Eric went with Thirteen's imperfect idea, but that was her fault, for failing to pitch a better one. It was also a lot of doctors to send off; testing meant a lumbar puncture and/or a nerve conduction study, both of which needed the patient to be in the room when it happened, as did the family history and the plasmapheresis. But it was also a good strategy: Amber was definitely included in the action without seeming to have been singled out by her maybe-boyfriend. And as long as Amber was present, she could bully the others into letting her do what she wanted and how she wanted it.
Everyone rose simultaneously and filed out towards the same direction like a pack of animals. "We'll need a lumbar puncture and a NCS," Amber said.
"Seriously?" Cole asked. "We should do only a NCS, it's not as invasive as a lumbar puncture."
"And it's not conclusive, so we'll need the CFS analysis to confirm," Amber argued.
But, as it turned out, neither would happen.
While Taub and Cole went off to book the NCS, Amber waited by the patient's room, ready to take her once Kutner and Thirteen had explained what was going to happen next. On the way over Amber picked up a copy of the case file; Casey Alfonso was her name but that and a few irrelevant history facts aside, there was no new information.
Amber looked up from her reading and saw through the glass wall that Casey was yelling, face very obviously red even from this distance. That couldn't be good. Amber crossed her arms, ready to judge and admonish Kutner and Thirteen as they walked out. "What did you do?"
"What did we do?" Kutner asked angrily. "You mean what did Foreman do. She kept saying he'd insisted it was heatstroke and now she won't believe anything we say."
Jaw fallen, Amber looked over to Thirteen; she nodded in confirmation. "She wants House," she said grimly.
"Well, we don't have House!" Amber said. This was so unprofessional, their top-billing doctor out of commission and the other one freaking their patient out. How were they supposed to get anything done if their supposed boss messed everything up? God, how embarrassing, she’d expected better of Eric.
"Yeah, we noticed," Kutner said.
"I'll talk to E-- Foreman," Amber decided; if he’d caused this wrong then he'd fix it. He could apologize or something. It wasn't until she'd spoken, though, and that the other two gave her meaningful looks that she realized how it sounded. "What, just because I'm sleeping with him I can't talk to him?"
Thirteen's smirk was infuriating. "I didn't say anything."
Between the annoyance that the patient wouldn't budge and being caught tangling her personal life with work, Amber stormed into the Diagnostics office. There Eric was, looking so calm and content like everything was running according to plan. Hah. "She's refusing treatment and tests," Amber snapped. "Because you told her it was definitely heatstroke and now she won't believe anything we say. She wants House.”
no subject
Everyone rose simultaneously and filed out towards the same direction like a pack of animals. "We'll need a lumbar puncture and a NCS," Amber said.
"Seriously?" Cole asked. "We should do only a NCS, it's not as invasive as a lumbar puncture."
"And it's not conclusive, so we'll need the CFS analysis to confirm," Amber argued.
But, as it turned out, neither would happen.
While Taub and Cole went off to book the NCS, Amber waited by the patient's room, ready to take her once Kutner and Thirteen had explained what was going to happen next. On the way over Amber picked up a copy of the case file; Casey Alfonso was her name but that and a few irrelevant history facts aside, there was no new information.
Amber looked up from her reading and saw through the glass wall that Casey was yelling, face very obviously red even from this distance. That couldn't be good. Amber crossed her arms, ready to judge and admonish Kutner and Thirteen as they walked out. "What did you do?"
"What did we do?" Kutner asked angrily. "You mean what did Foreman do. She kept saying he'd insisted it was heatstroke and now she won't believe anything we say."
Jaw fallen, Amber looked over to Thirteen; she nodded in confirmation. "She wants House," she said grimly.
"Well, we don't have House!" Amber said. This was so unprofessional, their top-billing doctor out of commission and the other one freaking their patient out. How were they supposed to get anything done if their supposed boss messed everything up? God, how embarrassing, she’d expected better of Eric.
"Yeah, we noticed," Kutner said.
"I'll talk to E-- Foreman," Amber decided; if he’d caused this wrong then he'd fix it. He could apologize or something. It wasn't until she'd spoken, though, and that the other two gave her meaningful looks that she realized how it sounded. "What, just because I'm sleeping with him I can't talk to him?"
Thirteen's smirk was infuriating. "I didn't say anything."
Between the annoyance that the patient wouldn't budge and being caught tangling her personal life with work, Amber stormed into the Diagnostics office. There Eric was, looking so calm and content like everything was running according to plan. Hah. "She's refusing treatment and tests," Amber snapped. "Because you told her it was definitely heatstroke and now she won't believe anything we say. She wants House.”