"My guy probably has depression, so I sent him off for a psych consult," Taub said.
Amber tapped her thumb against the glass table. She'd been proud of what she'd done, but now it seemed everyone had more or less gone through the same steps-- listened to the patient history and herded them towards the appropriate department. Not at all impressive. The hospital didn't need a specialized wing for this.
She didn't seem to be the only bored one. Cole listened diligently as if it were a moral duty, and Kutner seemed genuinely intrigued, but Thirteen had long ago tuned out and started staring at the window. Taub seemed to stay awake only by the power of his hand supporting his chin and Brennan kept fidgeting like he was waiting for the chance to jump up-- either he was disappointed his case really did lack substance or he had to go to the bathroom.
Having them find their own mini-cases and follow up on them individually was efficient, Amber did grant that much. But it wasn't as... exciting as having a real challenge under House. It was like clinic duty with fewer patients and a more dignified title.
Still, if they were going through this, Amber would do her part and do it well. Having heard everyone's case so far, including Thirteen's, she straightened out her shoulders and raised her chin to speak with full clarity and certainty. "My patient is probably suffering from malnutrition, so I'm running the tests for that. I'm sure the results will help me narrow down what she has."
Looking straight at Eric as she delivered her report, a part of Amber wanted to smile-- it was so strange negotiating her personal feelings and professional stance.
A moment of silence followed with everyone glancing at Thirteen expectantly. "Oh, is it my turn?" She asked. "I--"
A phone call came in. "Dr. Foreman?" A voice Amber did not recognize asked. "Your patient just had a seizure, in the MRI."
"Still think the weakened reflex means nothing?" Brennan asked.
no subject
Amber tapped her thumb against the glass table. She'd been proud of what she'd done, but now it seemed everyone had more or less gone through the same steps-- listened to the patient history and herded them towards the appropriate department. Not at all impressive. The hospital didn't need a specialized wing for this.
She didn't seem to be the only bored one. Cole listened diligently as if it were a moral duty, and Kutner seemed genuinely intrigued, but Thirteen had long ago tuned out and started staring at the window. Taub seemed to stay awake only by the power of his hand supporting his chin and Brennan kept fidgeting like he was waiting for the chance to jump up-- either he was disappointed his case really did lack substance or he had to go to the bathroom.
Having them find their own mini-cases and follow up on them individually was efficient, Amber did grant that much. But it wasn't as... exciting as having a real challenge under House. It was like clinic duty with fewer patients and a more dignified title.
Still, if they were going through this, Amber would do her part and do it well. Having heard everyone's case so far, including Thirteen's, she straightened out her shoulders and raised her chin to speak with full clarity and certainty. "My patient is probably suffering from malnutrition, so I'm running the tests for that. I'm sure the results will help me narrow down what she has."
Looking straight at Eric as she delivered her report, a part of Amber wanted to smile-- it was so strange negotiating her personal feelings and professional stance.
A moment of silence followed with everyone glancing at Thirteen expectantly. "Oh, is it my turn?" She asked. "I--"
A phone call came in. "Dr. Foreman?" A voice Amber did not recognize asked. "Your patient just had a seizure, in the MRI."
"Still think the weakened reflex means nothing?" Brennan asked.