Oh, this is where I give you advice and pretend you are going listen to it?

I've been looking at this for a while to be honest. Trying to think of how exactly I can put it into words, but I don't really want to think it applies to my life. It might apply, hell it might make a lot of sense for some aspects of my life, but I would rather prefer to just live in that lovely state of denial about it.

I'd like to say that I've always lost more than I've made. I have alimony check stubs that almost prove that very fact.

I mean I could take the easy way out and talk about how I've got an established career... which I've nearly scrapped a few times, but I won't. I could bring up all the friends... or well I have one good friend, who pretty much drives me to Spanish Soaps.

Then there are all the patients I see on a day to day that are going through their own ordeals, their own troubles and pain... I want them to think of life like that phrase. To think that they have gotten more out of it all then they'd ever lose in the long run.

In the long run though? They'll never really think about that until it's the very end... and that's when they lose it all.

Rubbing his hand across his features Wilson lets his chair rock back into a fuller recline for a moment as he pours over the latest group of patient files that he's yet to annotate with translations of his jotted notes. It's a tedious process, but it's one that he'd rather do during office hours than while sitting with the patient in front of him. He just has to trust his handwriting and his memory... and that House won't interrupt him.

Of course that would be like asking the trees outside Plainsboro-Princeton not to produce oxygen. So even though he has a stack of folders waiting for translation his line of sight can't help but be pulled up to his office door every time he thinks he hears someone coming up close.

It's the one time that he doesn't look that House barges in unasked and unannounced, "You go into the arena alone... the Lions? Are hungry for you."

Wilson sighs and presses his index finger against his temple regarding House as he stands there staring down at him at his desk, "I'm sorry did you need something?"

"Yes. I have a patient that has cancer."

"Just like that?"

House hands him the file and he glances through it, "Her white cell count is up, that could mean anything. That could mean she's got a papercut across her thigh."

"Oh, but how'd she get that then? Cancer bug give it to her? Walk around with a big old piece of papers saying... I'm gonna get you!"

"Cancer bug? Oh come on... you have that whole... what you're down to how many now? Did they run labs?"

"Oh... they're the lions. They're hungry for you!"

"You do realize that you're using the line out of context right?"

"You do realize that this Cancer Patient could be dying while you talk to me about Rhett Butler and his attempts to get into Miss O'Hara's pants right?"

Rolling his eyes ever so slightly Wilson glances to the stack of folders that he knows will be waiting for him whenever he's done with whatever House has roped him into and with a bit of frustration and a slight shake of his head moves from behind his desk and out to follow House to the lecture hall that had become the temporary office for all the would-be candidates for the job.

Wilson half expected House to follow him, but he instead took a seat on the couch in his office, "Oh... remember? He goes into the arena alone... or is that me misusing those quotes again? Let me know when you find the cancer!" House shouts out after him.

More pressing of fingers into the bridge of his nose as the frustration builds up with no where to let it go. His hand grips to his shoulder with a bit more pressure than he needs trying to ease the tension from his neck as he pushes the door open to the 'den of lions' who are hungry for knowledge and answers...

"Oh it's just him."

"Just me? You're patient could have stage three cancer and it's... 'just me'? What kind of Doctors are you?"

"Cancer? No one said our patient... did House give you a file? He told us that you'd have the answer to who is most likely to keep their spot on his team. Something about you know that arena well?"

Shutting his eyes Wilson picked up the case file he had in his hand and saw the name of the patient. Waldenström, Sézary... two different forms of Cancer.

"So who do you think would be on his team if he had to choose tomorrow? - Should we be taking more notes? - How long do you think a position on his team could last in the long run? - Would he fire us or make us quit?

He had found the cancer alright... and the lions were hungry for him.

Repeating the sentiment doesn't make it any more or less true. Saying it twice gives the illusion of comfort, of knowing that it's just a little thing in the long run. Women do it often, softening threatening things by saying them twice... as if saying it just the once means more than adding that backslash between the repetitive words.

You can be in love, but it means less when questioned if you are "in love/in love" because repeating it... just takes away the meaning. The same goes for most things in medicine.

A blood test is just a blood test, and it's true because at it's core... that is all it really is. When you look at it that way a blood test isn't the difference between healthy or sick. A biopsy is just a biopsy, because it's really just a small amount of you being taken away for another series of tests. That procedure is just the base of it all, the trouble starts when you think beyond those first steps.

I know that beyond those fundamentals that a blood test is a white count check, and a biopsy is the determination between benign or malignant. It's such a slight difference, but it makes all the difference in the world to the one hearing that side of the conversation.

Repeating the words in cancer doesn't help. You can't give someone relief by saying, "Well... it's just cancer... it's not cancer/cancer." It would be interesting to think about the difference between the two... but it's pointless.

Cancer is just cancer. Survival is just survival. Dying is just an end.

The hardest part about my job, with the exception of having to deal with House on a daily basis is having to sit there with the couples. Maybe it's not exactly because they are couples, though the divorcee (which I know that is generally used for females) in me does have a certain amount of disdain for watching the couple use each other for support through the hard times. Mostly because when the hard times came for me I tended to avoid them. Regardless of my own personal issues with it, it's hard to see them go through it all. That one of them at the end of it all will be left alone with the memories of watching their loved one suffer.

Cameron went through it, and I've seen how she copes with it, if you can consider it actually coping. Still they hold their hands and they look into their eyes with that everlasting love and they say goodbye. They let a part of themselves go with them, even though the one dying would rather them stay behind and live their life.

It's upsetting and depressing, and it's the worst part of my job... because they always leave someone behind.

"You do realize that this isn't how it's supposed to work right?"

"Sure it is. See you put the coins in the slot and - Look! Candy falls from the little magical coils of metal hidden behind glass!"

Wilson glances at House, his head tilting in disapproval hands shoved deep into the pockets of his labcoat, "You know what I am talking about."

"You mean we're not discussing just how many times I'm going to have to put in another sixty-five cents just to get my PayDay to drop?"

"You can tell maintenance about it eating your money House, and no that isn't what we're talking about and you know it."

"Right... because what we were talking about was - Oh so interesting. Please, I have more fun talking about Mr. Kirkpatrick's bowel movements... which he says he hopes to have by Thursday now."

Exhaling rather loudly Wilson shakes his head still following behind House as he roams through the free clinic ignoring most of the patients that are trying to get his attention. He's using the 'If I can't see you, you can't see me' tactic, and surprisingly it just leaves most patients stunned with shock to the point that they just can't even get a word out of their mouths.

House uses his cane to push open the door on exam room four and when he sees the patient inside he immediately lets the door close on her, that same in shock expression on her face as House just moves onto the next room.

"So you going to remind me what we're talking about or am I just going to be kept on the edge of my seat all day long?"

Pressing his fingers up to his temple Wilson stops in the middle of the hallway trying to figure out if he wants to yell it to the entire room, or just walk out. He's halfway to the point of shouting it to everyone, but decides that playing the shadow to House as he avoids patients just isn't what he wants to do all afternoon.

"I told you before the vending machines, before the stop at the pharmacy and I told you in the beginning when I handed you the patient chart, and if you've forgotten? Then I just am not going to tell you again." Wilson threw his hands up in frustration and headed out to actually help the patients in the clinic, starting with the woman that House had startled.

Grabbing the chart off the door he flipped it open and walked into the exam room. Pulling the stool from the corner of the room he settled onto it and smiled up at the girl, "Sorry about earlier. So now... Miss... Cooper, you've been having some pain behind your left elbow it says. Can you describe the type of-"

"What do you mean you aren't going to tell me again. The very basis of our friendship is that you always tell me again. You tell me a thousand times to stop with the vicodin and to start treating my team like actual... people! But this? This you won't tell me again?"

"House, you're interrupting this girls exam." To that of course House snatched the chart from his hands and flipped though the pages, he glanced up to her giving her the standard 'House Full Exam' and then handing the chart back to Wilson.

"She needs a new desk chair, or she needs to stop pressing her elbows into brick walls. Do you walk with your elbows running along the walls? No? Buy a new desk chair. The arm rests on yours are worn and the constant pressure is putting stress onto your nerves in your elbows which is giving you the tingly funny bone feelings. So you're not telling me again?"

Wilson snapped out of it glancing up to House, "Look I always do the tell you until you yell at me thing, and well this time I've stopped before you usually yell... and oh - look at this. You're yelling at me again."

"Isn't this how it works?"

"No. This is not how it works House. See friends talk to each other, they don't berate each other until one of them wishes he had upped his dosage of anti-depressants that morning just to cope with the stress of his day. Which I'm sure you probably wish you could up your.. oh wait... you already do up your dosage. Look either you can look at the case I gave you, or you can just keep pretending it doesn't exist. Either way I'm going to go help her. I just thought you'd try too."

"Well... I just wanted to be clear on how the whole 'friendship' thing was supposed to work. Here I always thought I was just allowed to be the rude asshole. So we're not in a buddy cop movie? You're not the Play it Safe Guy while I get to be the Loose Cannon with all the girls wanting him?"

Wilson glanced to House as he headed back out of the clinic up to his office, "No. This is barely a medical drama show we're on. It's just our screwed up priorities friendship House, and it's probably always going to be like this. There is no starting over here."

"Oh.. it could have been the start of a beautiful friendship though..."

"Oh come on, I'd have been the Play It Safe Guy that gets all the girls... you know that at least is true."

"Are you Doctor House?"

Wilson had been seated in the chairs just outside the waiting room reviewing a few of his cases from the clinic and trying to avoid actually being noticed for a change. He had way too much on his mind and all he wanted was a few moments without his extension ringing or House messaging him about Cuddy's breasts.

Of course in a hospital there is no such thing as privacy and there is no where that a doctor can't be found if someone really wanted to find them. Without looking up Wilson shook his head sighing lightly as he flipped a page in the chart comparing test results, "Nope... I'd be Doctor Wilson."

"Oh... good. That's who I was told to find."

Told to find... generally in a hospital that means either no one knows the answer or someone doesn't want to find out the answer so they play Doctor tag. Really it's a riveting chase of sending the patient from one specialist to the other until the last one on the list has no one else to refer them to. It's almost pathetic until you realize that it's a free clinic, and then it becomes slightly depressing and borderline malpractice.

Still the game always has a starting point, and it's usually House. It also has a rather short life span once it hits Wilson because he can't bare to pass off House's little problems onto another Doctor and make it seem that he's the one that can't handle his own cases.

Clicking his pen and tucking it into the top of the clipboard Wilson glances up to the woman standing before him, "You were told to find an Oncologist. So the reason you're here... is somewhere in the realm of oncology I hope?"

"On-what-a-gee?"

Great....

"Oncology. Cancer? Tumors? Malignant growths?"

"Oh my God! I have cancer?"

Fantastic...

"Probably not. You were referred to me by a Doctor House?"

"No. I mean he's who I am specifically *not* supposed to find. I was supposed to come into this hospital, go to the free clinic and find Doctor James Wilson... not Doctor House."

She sounded like she had been given strict instructions and was reading off of a checklist, "And why are you being told to find me and not Doctor House?"

"Oh! I got this in the mail!"

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a PPTH mailing envelope usually reserved for sending bills and test results. She hands it to him and he entertains the notion that she's really supposed to come find him and glances across the letter. It's a simple lab result for blood work, and it's showing her that she has Chlymidia. A further review shows that her attending physician on the day she came in was a Doctor Gregory House. Then on the following page where it says to discuss these results with your doctor please call... but House's information has been blacked out with Sharpie marker and a Post-It note is attached with a note reading, 'Do not see Dr. House. Find Dr. Wilson.'

"I take it you never saw Doctor House?" Wilson asked, and continued at her blank look, "Cranky? Cane? Sarcastic to a point of annoyance?"

"Yes! That was Doctor Chase."

***

Three hours later Wilson finds himself finally prying himself from the woman with a thousand questions about where she got her STD, how long it will take to clear up... along with a plethora of other questions that he hadn't had to answer since his first year residency. He crosses the hall to find House reclining in his chair, tossing The Ball in the air.

"So one of these days I'm going to actually say that I am you... I'm sure I'll regret it, but maybe... just maybe it'll be on a day when you've told your patients *not* to see you."

"I'll get you a schedule if you want!"

Was called out to him as he left House's office for his own, hoping that maybe he'd be able to finish what he set out to do earlier.

A little badness could be pretty misleading in most fields, but I'm guessing in medicine... mainly oncology I'd wager that a little badness is going to go a hell of a long way. Even with there being goodness... actually I take that back. Even with what little goodness is out there for my patients I highly doubt that really the badness is something to overcome.

I get the notion though. The theory that the good things are worth the struggle, the ends are worth the means. Which in theory... well it makes a great theory. The truth though is that no one thinks about the badness they had to overcome. They push past it and never want to look back. That's probably why people end up doing the same dumb things to themselves. They forget all the pains they went to in order to get there.

It's all a sick process really. Push through to survive only to do it all over again, because despite all the badness you overcome once you get to the goodness? It's all going to be forgotten, or at the very least they'll think it was worth all that trauma to have that good moment.

I've watched it happen with patients when they get their first clear test results letting them know they went into remission. The moment they know they're okay for a while everything they went through seems worth it and if it comes back they'll be willing to go through it all over again just because they only remember that drop of good in the flood of bad.

“It’s a far, far better thing I do than I have ever done.
It’s a far, far better rest I go to than I have ever known.” - A Tale of Two Cities



You know, originally it wasn't a movie, it wasn't even a full novel in the beginning either. It was a serial story published in newspapers. that Dickens was getting paid by the word to write. The whole beginning where he goes on about it being "The best of times, it was the worst of times..." Filler. Now, that doesn't take away from the beauty of the work at all, it just puts it into perspective a bit. He was still getting paid by the word at the end of it, the extra 'far' in both sentences? Think about him getting an extra penny for each one and then see how profound it seems.

I'm not trying to downgrade it at all. It's a great literary work, an amazing few films... and it touches on a section of our history that some don't feel like really looking at. Plus that's the last line of the work. It's a statement about sacrifice, giving up life to make a difference in someone the survival of someone else. It's about making a change without anything for yourself in the end. Talk about last words making an impact on everyone that's watching or reading.

But it was counted.

By the word.

Like this.

Dr. James Wilson
House MD
200 and some change, but you get those for free.

"We are coming into a new world; a kindlier world,
where men will rise above their greed, their hate and their brutality."


Why is it that all the great quotes sound like fantastic ideas that will never really catch on? It probably isn't that difficult to accomplish these things either. What, maybe taking a few extra moments out of your selfish routine to consider someone else for a moment? Even just discounting the hate and brutality bit there, the greed? That should be simple enough for anyone to accomplish. Of course I am saying that based on the alimony checks that I write out each month, and maybe I'm a little bitter when it comes to earning so much only to have most of it taken away from me just because of a mistake. Then comes the hard truth that in my complaints there is that line of truth that my own greed has become a burden upon myself.

I'm not even sure if the world would be 'kindlier' if everyone rose above those flaws, because there is always going to be something else wrong with the world. One more thing that will end up upsetting someone... or insulting someone else.

The Utopian dream is a pipe dream, and perfection is a long ways off for humanity.

How about we all just get used to the world we're in. Maybe take a moment to pick up the garbage around us, and realize you're not the only person that lives here. I mean call me crazy, but I think to make the world 'kindlier' you have to actually care about someone other than yourself. So start small, and stop asking for alimony. Get off your lazy ass and start earning your own money, or do what you did to me and marry someone else and let them support you.

I might get in trouble for this one, and trust me it's not with a sound mind that I decide to write this, but well... you only live once right?

Look I know things are going to change, I welcome it most days, but when a man that is used to throwing his weight around the place ends up alone at the end of the day? There's something to be said about a bit of peace and quiet. Other than that fact that I'm pretty sure my days of having any moment actually to think for myself at work is pretty much gone now. I have accepted my fate as the best friend, and now I get the added bonus of being the one he goes to as soon as anything goes wrong. It's the way it rolls downhill I guess.

Foreman leaving was a long time coming. All the empty threats that he tossed out there it was going to come sooner or later. I'm just shocked he lasted this long. The rest... well change is good. Well except when it affects me adversely. No I take that back, change is good as long as at the end of the day you aren't ready to throttle your best friend.

I'm actually proud of him. I mean the old stand by tricks didn't work. Beating them down, sarcasm to the nines... it just became one more thing they tolerated, but firing Chase... that was change. That was calling a new shot.

That was House finally realizing that he was going to go for broke because when you're looking a serious change in the face? Might as well just go for the whole thing right?

I just know that this change... might not be for the best. I for one am not looking forward to fetching any lab results for him.