Holiday H/W fic Part 5
Two minutes later, a tall, stoop-shouldered resident with reddened eyes trotted into Wilson’s room. “Dr. Hansen is holding Grand Rounds right now. I’m Dr. Patterson,” he told them, eyeing the filthy remains of Wilson’s suit. “What seems to be the trouble? Santa fall out of his sleigh?”
“Actually, he got kicked in the head by a jackass with delusions of grandeur. How about if you treat him now and save the funny for later? Dr. Wilson here has all the signs of a subdural hematoma in the parietal region,” House growled.
“Are you certain?” Patterson asked. “The CT last night was clean.”
“Must have been a slow bleed,” House snapped. “And any earlier symptoms would have been masked by the alcohol.”
“I’ll schedule another CT,” the resident said.
“Are you kidding me? He’s already symptomatic! Page your neurosurgeon and book the goddamn OR for a craniotomy before this man’s brains start dribbling out of his ears!”
Cowed, the resident scuttled away. Frowning ferociously, House bent over Wilson, but he touched his head with great tenderness, turning it gently this way and that. Wilson caught his hands and held them, staring up at him in terror. “House? What’s going to happen to me?”
“Don’t worry,” House said gruffly, resisting the urge to pull away. “You’re experiencing increased intracranial pressure, probably because you suffered a minor tear in a vein when you fell. If you’re lucky, the surgeon will just drill a small hole to suck out the accumulated blood.”
“And if I’m not lucky?”
“Well, then they’ll have to open up your skull to remove the clot and repair the vessel.”
Wilson stared at House in dawning horror. “You mean…”
“Yes, Wilson,” House said somberly. “There’s no way around it. We’re going to have to shave your head.”
Wilson let go of House’s hands and turned his head away, and if a tear or two leaked from his eyes, neither man called attention to that fact.
***
House’s cellphone rang as Wilson was being wheeled up to surgery. Not recognizing the number, he answered anyway, and heard Cuddy’s voice to his combined annoyance and relief. “House! Where the hell are you?”
“I’m at Princeton General with Wilson. He’s going into surgery right now. Where have you been? I called you everywhere I could think of.”
“I spent the night at the police station!”
“On what charges? Assault, vandalism, and destruction of property? Oh no, wait, that was Wilson.”
“I wasn’t being charged! My purse was stolen last night. I lost my phone, my keys, everything!”
“Have they caught the guy?”
“It was a woman. A tall, heavily made-up woman in a pink fake fur coat. She seemed upset. And really strong.”
House rolled his eyes, figuring that he knew exactly who had Cuddy’s purse. “Don’t worry, Cuddy, I’m sure the police will find her. Were you alone when this happened? Where was your well-endowed friend?”
“I’d sent him home. You and Wilson had already disgraced the hospital enough for one night.”
“You’re angry.”
“Yes, House, I am angry! I was this close to getting the funding for a new wing, and now all I have to show for the evening is public humiliation and sore feet.” She paused. “What on earth are you doing at Princeton General, anyway?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You didn’t want Wilson embarrassing himself in front of our staff, huh?”
“Apparently not that long.”
“Terrific. It’s nice to know that you can show that kind of consideration to someone, even if it isn’t me.”
“Cuddy-“
“I’ve got to go. I’ll be by later today to visit Wilson.” House heard the faint click as she hung up.