Eric could not have stung her more with a physical slap. "It was not, I wouldn't put my career on the line just to show you up--" It wasn't about him, though of course he'd twist it that way. How egotistical could he get? He reached new highs with every action.
Amber couldn't even defend herself properly, since Eric stomped off into the place she especially couldn't continue the argument. No fighting in front of their patient, Amber knew they agreed on that much.
She followed him. If he was going to do more of a physical exam, she wanted to make sure Eric didn't miss anything with his MS-only tunnel vision. And she'd show him, damn it, that she hadn't given Casey the steroids just to fucking prove a point.
But Casey didn't exactly present the status of "better," having lost mobility and feeling in her legs. Amber hid her alarm behind a cool facade as Eric confirmed the loss; this had to be new, he seemed just as surprised as she was.
"What's happening?" Casey asked, a slight squeak to her voice. Amber could not blame her. "Is this a side-effect of the medicine?"
"No," Amber said. Neither interferon nor steroids caused this. Or did lupus or MS, for that matter. A new symptom? Unless, Amber’s stomach squeezing into a heavy ball at the thought, the steroids and the interferon together destroyed Casey's immune system and she'd become infected. No. No. Amber's mouth went dry. She'd been so sure-- but this wasn't the time for her own reaction.
Eric hadn't volunteered any information so far, so Amber assumed he was just as clueless as she was. She spoke again. "But this means it's not lupus or MS-- we'll have to discuss this further. We'll tell you as soon as we've found a better diagnosis."
"Better diagnosis?" Casey's distress was louder than ever, her face white. She pushed her torso up as best she could, her legs disturbingly still. "You still don't know? Is this permanent, will I ever walk again--"
God, this was tricky. "We're doing our best," Amber said, so disgusted she wanted to kick herself. Their best. The best didn't matter if it failed. All Casey cared was walking out of this hospital with a clean bill of health and two functioning legs. But it wasn't as if Amber could promise a cure, either. Why wasn't House here, he might've figured it out by now. "It does often take a few false starts before we find the right answer," Amber said, the best reassurance she could give Casey.
The last thing Casey looked was reassured.
On her way out, Amber murmured to Eric, "I'll get the others." And she did, paging this time not only the call to come to the conference room, but all the new factors and symptoms as well. She could just imagine them, laughing at her for digging her own grave by maybe making Casey sicker-- but it might not be her fault. Might.
no subject
Amber couldn't even defend herself properly, since Eric stomped off into the place she especially couldn't continue the argument. No fighting in front of their patient, Amber knew they agreed on that much.
She followed him. If he was going to do more of a physical exam, she wanted to make sure Eric didn't miss anything with his MS-only tunnel vision. And she'd show him, damn it, that she hadn't given Casey the steroids just to fucking prove a point.
But Casey didn't exactly present the status of "better," having lost mobility and feeling in her legs. Amber hid her alarm behind a cool facade as Eric confirmed the loss; this had to be new, he seemed just as surprised as she was.
"What's happening?" Casey asked, a slight squeak to her voice. Amber could not blame her. "Is this a side-effect of the medicine?"
"No," Amber said. Neither interferon nor steroids caused this. Or did lupus or MS, for that matter. A new symptom? Unless, Amber’s stomach squeezing into a heavy ball at the thought, the steroids and the interferon together destroyed Casey's immune system and she'd become infected. No. No. Amber's mouth went dry. She'd been so sure-- but this wasn't the time for her own reaction.
Eric hadn't volunteered any information so far, so Amber assumed he was just as clueless as she was. She spoke again. "But this means it's not lupus or MS-- we'll have to discuss this further. We'll tell you as soon as we've found a better diagnosis."
"Better diagnosis?" Casey's distress was louder than ever, her face white. She pushed her torso up as best she could, her legs disturbingly still. "You still don't know? Is this permanent, will I ever walk again--"
God, this was tricky. "We're doing our best," Amber said, so disgusted she wanted to kick herself. Their best. The best didn't matter if it failed. All Casey cared was walking out of this hospital with a clean bill of health and two functioning legs. But it wasn't as if Amber could promise a cure, either. Why wasn't House here, he might've figured it out by now. "It does often take a few false starts before we find the right answer," Amber said, the best reassurance she could give Casey.
The last thing Casey looked was reassured.
On her way out, Amber murmured to Eric, "I'll get the others." And she did, paging this time not only the call to come to the conference room, but all the new factors and symptoms as well. She could just imagine them, laughing at her for digging her own grave by maybe making Casey sicker-- but it might not be her fault. Might.