Surprise, surprise. Eric saw the numbers, knew what they meant-- and didn't care. Pig. Self-centered, self-serving, steamrolling pig. Some diagnostician. Eric could rage against House's ethics all he liked, but House at least bowed down to the facts. Amber had no use for someone, as a man or doctor, who hid themselves from reality to protect their sweet, fragile egos.
Taub's jab made a fool of her, but even so, the recriminating glance Amber shot him was mild. The emphasis of the joke fell on Eric, who was letting a personal grudge-- what had she even done, besides acknowledge that House was a genius and that they probably needed his help-- cloud his judgment. "Again," Amber said dryly, "why? The results for MS aren't any more conclusive than for lupus." None of her anger came through her voice, but that was because she wasn't feeling it yet; it was still too far away, as if it belonged to someone else. The important thing was to keep her calm and argue her case logically and rationally.
"They're different diseases, yeah," Kutner offered, smiling impishly. Maybe he wasn't such a terrible waste of space after all. "But the treatments wouldn't conflict with each other. No reason not to run them at the same time."
"It's just not practical, though," Thirteen argued, winning herself a spot at the bottom of Amber’s list-- right above Eric. But the only new thing about there was that Thirteen wasn't dead last anymore. "What are we going to tell her father? That we have no idea and so we're throwing everything and the kitchen sink into her? And if she got better, how would we know which treatment worked?"
no subject
Taub's jab made a fool of her, but even so, the recriminating glance Amber shot him was mild. The emphasis of the joke fell on Eric, who was letting a personal grudge-- what had she even done, besides acknowledge that House was a genius and that they probably needed his help-- cloud his judgment. "Again," Amber said dryly, "why? The results for MS aren't any more conclusive than for lupus." None of her anger came through her voice, but that was because she wasn't feeling it yet; it was still too far away, as if it belonged to someone else. The important thing was to keep her calm and argue her case logically and rationally.
"They're different diseases, yeah," Kutner offered, smiling impishly. Maybe he wasn't such a terrible waste of space after all. "But the treatments wouldn't conflict with each other. No reason not to run them at the same time."
"It's just not practical, though," Thirteen argued, winning herself a spot at the bottom of Amber’s list-- right above Eric. But the only new thing about there was that Thirteen wasn't dead last anymore. "What are we going to tell her father? That we have no idea and so we're throwing everything and the kitchen sink into her? And if she got better, how would we know which treatment worked?"