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  While Sheldon, Tam, and their new friend, Libby, were getting to know each other and talking about geology, I could feel a certain degree of reje from the new girl towards me, even disgust.

  "Ok, so I think I'm going to the cafeteria," I said slowly, puzzled by the way Libby was still looking at me from time to time. "See you ter, Sheldon, Tam. o meet you, Libby," I added as I stood up.

  "See you ter, PJ Dun, my friend," Tam said excitedly, smiling cheerfully.

  "See you ter, PJ. Remember we have English after lunch. I hope to meet in front of your locker as usual," Sheldon said formally, straightening his bad g his hands oable.

  "I'll be there," I assured my little friend, nodding. Sheldon needed me to apany him to the to avoid getting trampled by the crowd of students.

  "Wait, we talk?" Libby, who had been frowning during my brief final versation with Sheldon, said, strangely furious as she stood up and walked quickly beside me, guiding me away from the table.

  While I ractically dragged by the girl, Tam, sitting silently at the table, gave me a thumbs-up with a slightly impressed smile, and Sheldon, like me, seemed pletely intrigued by the way Libby was dragging me.

  "Is something going on?" I asked the girl after being dragged a few bookshelves away from the table, whiow only Tam and Sheldon shared.

  "You bet," she said, crossing her arms and frowning in a straempt to look intimidating, warning me.

  "Ok," I said slowly, nodding. "Would you mind telling me what's going on?" I asked, puzzled.

  "I don't know what you're pnning with that little boy, but you o stop," she warned seriously, pushing my chest with a finger.

  "I don't—" I started to say, but the strangely furious girl interrupted me.

  "Oh, you know what I'm talking about," Libby said, advang again in a sad attempt to be intimidating, though obviously, she was failing pletely. "You're PJ Dun. The whole school knows you. You even made it to the neer they say you're a prodigy, but I don't believe it. You're taking advantage of that boy," she accused, pointing towards where Sheldon and Tam were.

  "What?" I asked, offended, immediately uanding her hostility. "Where did you get that idea? Sheldon and Tam are my friends," I decred seriously.

  "Oh, please, 'friends'?" she said with disdain in her voice. "You're a jock. They're not your friends. If I ever find out you're doing anything to them—" she said, raising her finger in front of my face again.

  "Let me stop yht there," I said, raising my voice slightly, not wanting to disturb the others in the library, "I don't care what you think of me, but I don't appreciate being threatened, especially when you're pletely wrong."

  "I'm sorry, what is going on?" suddenly Sheldon asked, intrigued, approag where Libby and I were arguing. "Tam and I heard yuing and even heard PJ raise his voice, but not loud enough to be disruptive. Kudos for that," Sheldon said kindly, smiling at me.

  "Go on, ask him," I said arrogantly to Libby, nodding towards the small boy.

  "Sheldon, has Dun ever asked you to do his homework or take a test for him?" Libby asked seriously, her arms crossed, increasingly frustrated.

  "Oh, I wish!" Sheldon decred excitedly. "That would mean PJ is admitting to being itively inferior to me, and we wouldn't have to pete anymore to prove it."

  "pete?" Libby asked incredulously, taken by surprise.

  "Oh, yeah, PJ and I have been peting in every css sihe beginning of the school year," Sheldon decred proudly.

  "A petition that, if I recall correctly, I am currently winning," I said, amused by the surprised rea of the boy.

  "Because of Geie," Sheldon murmured, clearly annoyed.

  "Now, Sheldon, could you expin to Libby here why we have a 'schedule' to meet in front of my locker?" I asked, raising an eyebrow, enjoying Libby's expression of realization.

  "Sure. Your height and growing muscuture, like your friends', serve perfectly as a shield from the rest of the student body," Sheldon expined unabashedly.

  "Well, thanks, Sheldon," I said, smiling at my young friend. "Now, I bet you feel dumb," I murmured to the incredulous girl as I walked towards the library exit, feeling much better.

  "You're wele," I heard Sheldon say proudly before I left the library.

  The rest of the school day passed without any issues. Sheldon, seemingly ign the text of my argument with Libby, spent the csses as usual, peting with me at every opportunity.

  "Hey!" Geie, smiling broadly, approached me during football practice. "Did you know Sheldon has a girlfriend?" he asked, amused.

  "Libby," I said while warming up.

  "Wow, how did you know?" my 'i' friend asked, impressed.

  "I met her during lunch," I expined.

  "But we ate lunch together," Geie said, incredibly surprised.

  "Geie, I arrived at the cafeteria ter than you guys, remember?" I asked, incredulous at my friend's behavior.

  "Oh, yeah," Geie said, nodding as his expression showed he was remembering lunch. "That sandwich was really good."

  The days passed, and aside from short versations about rocks on the way to css with an unusually excited Sheldon, nothing ged in my routine.

  "What's going on with Sheldon?" I asked my friend on Friday night after returning from practice with Case, drinking sodas with Geie in the front yard of my house while listening to musid watg Sheldon frantically the windows of his house.

  "Oh, he's mad because my mom didn't let him go to a movie or something with his girlfriend," Geie expined, drinking his root beer. "Do you think regur beer tastes like this?" he asked, raising his .

  "I'm sure it does. Keep drinking that," I replied, reing in my chair.

  Several minutes after watg Sheldon his house's windows, my little friend calmly walked over to where Geie and I were fortably seated.

  "Good evening, PJ," Sheldon said kindly, smiling.

  "Hey buddy, want one?" I asked, pulling a soda from the cooler on the ground.

  "Oh, no thanks," Sheldon replied immediately, standing silently in front of us.

  "Do you need something? Want a chair?" I asked again, notig the boy had no iion of moving.

  "Sitting out here, where birds are, you have a great sense of humor PJ," Sheldon said ironically, smiling. "I wao ask if you're free tomorrow?" he asked, g his hands in front of his abdomen.

  "Well, I have practice around this time, but the rest of the day I'm free, I suppose. Why, what do you need?" I asked the boy.

  "My mom thinks it would be much safer for me if you came with us. She also wants to meet Libby because she's going to drive. So, since you're free, would you like to enjoy a geology exhibit and a space shuttle movie in IMAX at the Museum of Natural S Houston?"

  "So your mom wants me to e to apany you?" I asked, sighing at the idea of going to see a rock exhibit.

  "It's obvious if you think about it. In our neighborhood, you have the most medical experienext is your own mother, being an athlete, you're fit enough to defend me if any altercation occurs, after Libby, you're the only oh driving knowledge and also, even if you are not legally an adult, you are responsible as one" Sheldon expined calmly.

  "Yeah, those are very good reasons," I said, nodding, amused. "But I don't think it's a good idea, Sheldon," I admitted, immediately seeing his incredulous look. "I don't think Libby likes me very much, and I wouldn't want to ruin your trip."

  "On the trary," Sheldon said immediately. "She seems very ied in you. She had many questions," he added, nodding ily.

  "I assure you it's not the good kind of i," I said, amused. "But I'll tell you what, buddy, if you really need me to e, I do it just for tomorrow."

  "Ok, thanks, Geie," Sheldon said, nodding to his brother as a farewell and walking back to his house, pletely unashamed.

  "Thank God he didn't wao go with him," Geie said, pletely relieved.

  "Did you hear the reasons why your mom felt safe with me apanying them?" I asked, amused.

  "Yeah," Geie replied, ign what I was implying with my question, turning up the musid leaning ba his chair.

  "So 'i,'" I murmured, amused, enjoying the music as well.

  The day, after my m routine, which, being the weekend, was a bit ter than usual, Sheldon arrived at our house.

  "Good m, PJ," Sheldon said, standily like some strange kind of door-to-door salesman. "In theory, Tam and Libby will arrive in a few minutes. Would you like to wait at my house? My mom made lemonade."

  "Sure," I said, taking my keys and following Sheldon to his house. "I'll be back ter," I told Gabe, atg TV on the living room sofa.

  "Ok," he replied, raising his thumb without turning around.

  "Ah, PJ, would you like a gss of lemonade?" Mrs. Cooper kindly asked at the Cooper's house.

  "Yes, I would love ohank you," I said, smiling at the woman.

  "Sheldon, could you serve PJ some lemonade, please?" she said, as Sheldon immediately nodded, walking formally out of the living room. "Would you like to sit down?" she added, pointing to a sofa.

  Mrs. Cooper, looking towards where Sheldon had gone, waited a few seds before turning to me.

  "Before Tam and Libby arrive, I'd like you to know something," Mrs. Cooper said quickly, apparently having some trouble saying Libby's name. "All of this is because I want to meet that girl. Normally, I would feel pletely at ease with you present there," she assured me, seemingly worried I might take my presehere the wrong way.

  "Oh, don't worry about it. I pletely uand," I assured the woman.

  "Oh, thank God," Mrs. Cooper said, relieved. "Do you happen to know this Libby girl?" a moment ter secretly she asked, ied.

  "Oh, well, I met her a few days ago. She seems like a good person," I responded. "Also intelligent. She was reading about a topic advanced for school," I added, notig Mrs. Cooper wao know more.

  "That's all?" Mrs. Cooper asked nervously.

  "Well, she was obviously ied in Sheldon's well-being," I admitted. "She seemed to think I was using Sheldon for his homework, like a bully or something."

  "Oh, that's funny," Mrs. Cooper said, ughing lightly. "You bullying Sheldon," she added, amused, though a few seds ter, I saw the idea grow in her mind while frowning.

  "What's going on?" Sheldon asked, carrying a tray with a single gss of lemonade.

  "Oh, nothing, honey," quickly Mrs. Cooper replied.

  "Thank you, Sheldon," I said, taking the gss from the tray he was carrying.

  "You're wele. Here's also a coaster," he added, pg a circur pstic pie the coffee table.

  "Ok, I'll make sure to use it," I said, putting the gss on the coaster.

  "Thank you," Sheldon said with relief.

  "Bullying," I heard Mrs. Cooper murmur with a slight ugh.

  After a few minutes of Sheldon telling me about everything he found iing about the museum we were supposedly going to, the Coopers' doorbell rang.

  "Oh boy, they're here," Sheldon said excitedly, standing up immediately, followed by his mother.

  Mrs. Cooper opehe door. "Hi there, please e in, have a seat."

  "You have a beautiful home," Libby said as she entered with Tam.

  "Thank you," both Sheldon and Mrs. Cooper respo the same time, making Mrs. Cooper look at Sheldon, puzzled.

  "Dun," Libby said, surprised to see me in the Coopers' living room, stopping for a moment.

  "Libby," I o the girl as a greeting, amused as her expression immediately turned slightly embarrassed.

  "Oh PJ Dun, my friend," Tam said, smiling widely as he saw me.

  "Tam," I greeted the boy, still finding it strahat he used my full name.

  "What are you doing here?" the intrigued girl asked, f a smile as she took a seat on the same sofa as me, oher side of Tam, who was in the middle of us, fortunately.

  "Oh, PJ was very kind to offer to apany you. I feel much safer if he goes with you," Mrs. Cooper responded.

  "Also, PJ is our neighbor," Sheldon added.

  "Yeah, his car is outside, pretty cool," Tam said, smiling slowly, making me silently thank him with a smile and a wink.

  "Ok, I hope you'll five me," Mrs. Cooper said to Libby, ging the versation. "I just wao meet the person driving my nine-year-old son to Houston."

  "I uand," Libby responded.

  "Me, too," Tam suddenly added.

  "I wasn't talking to you, Tam," Mrs. Cooper said harshly. "I just wao make certain that you've had no traffic tickets or, heaven forbid, acts," the woman said seriously to Libby.

  "No, ma'am," the girl immediately assured.

  "Even if you're not, I'd prefer you to say it now, and I'm sure PJ could drive you there," Mrs. Cooper said.

  "That would be pretty cool. I've always wao ride in your car," Tam immediately said.

  "Tam," Mrs. Cooper warned seriously, sileng the Vietnamese boy again.

  "You've got nothing to worry about, ma'am," Libby assured. "I'm a very safe driver."

  "Good, good," Mrs. Cooper said, relieved. "Have you made this trip before?"

  "A few times, yes," Libby responded, making Mrs. Cooper nod.

  "You smoke marijuana?" Mrs. Cooper asked suddenly, trying to catch the girl by surprise.

  "Mom!" Sheldon excimed, obviously embarrassed.

  "No, ma'am," Libby assured calmly.

  "Just say no," Tam said again, making Mrs. Cooper simply stare at him this time, causing the boy to lower his head, disappointed.

  "Well, I find this very reassuring," Mrs. Cooper said, relieved. "I have to admit, I had some trepidation, but havi you, I'm feeling a lot better."

  "Good," Sheldon said cheerfully.

  "You've got nothing to worry about, Mrs. Cooper," Libby assured kindly. "I've been babysitting kids for years," she added, and from Sheldon's expression, I was sure it wasn't the best choice of words.

  "Excuse me," Sheldon said, much paler than usual, which was w. "I don't feel well," he tinued, visibly w his mother. "You'll have to go without me," he added, walking away from the living room.

  "Oh my," Mrs. Cooper murmured, watg her son leave mencholically. "I'm sorry to waste your time, Libby, but it seems Sheldon won't be apanying you guys. Also, thank you for ing here, PJ," she added, smiling slightly.

  "Don't worry, ma'am," Libby assured, apparently puzzled by the whole situation.

  "Yeah, don't worry," Tam said, this time being ignored by everyone.

  "Don't worry, Mrs. Cooper, this was a fun chat," I said, patting Tam's shoulder and standing up. "Thanks for the lemonade."

  "Well, see you ter," outside the Cooper's house I said to the two unfortable teenagers.

  "Wait, where are you going?" Tam asked.

  "Don't get me wrong, but the only reason I was going with you was to apany Sheldon," I said to a disappoiam. "But hey, I'm sure you two have fun with... the rocks," I added.

  "Oh, yeah," Tam said slowly, seemingly getting some kind of message as he smiled widely moving his eyebrows signifitly.

  "Rocks?" Libby asked, looking offended for some reason.

  "Like I said, have fun," I said, walking home.

  "I thought you had left," ing out of the kit in our house with a gss of water, Gabe said.

  "What are you talking about? I've been here all day," I said, looking at my brother strangely.

  Sighing before raising his shoulders, Gabe sat ba the sofa.

  "I'm not at all worried about your future," I said, hugging my brother by the shoulder, watg Scooby-Doo with him.

  Days passed again. It was Tuesday, and after the sed period, I left with Brock, heading to our lockers to meet the others.

  "Hey Porker, after css?" In the hallway, a couple of extremely disheveled guys pushed Brock while passing, ughing unpleasantly as they walked.

  "What was that?" I asked, watg the guys walk away.

  "My senior friends," Brock responded cheerfully. "We hang out after css. They're pretty cool."

  'Pretty cool' seemed like two idiots to me. "Ok... what do you do after school?" I asked, slightly ied. I didn't like to think that my friend was being bullied.

  "I don't know, we make jokes and... Wait a minute, you're jealous!" Brock excimed, smiling obviously excited.

  "Yeah, I'm jealous that you hang out with more friends besides us," I said, rolling my eyes exasperatedly.

  "Oh e on, don't feel bad for having feelings, we all have them," Brock decred, hugging my shoulder tightly.

  "I'll kick your ass," I joked while walking with my friend.

  "If you need a shoulder to cry on after doing that, I'll be ready," Brock decred.

  After school, at the hospital, in the ER waiting rooms on my way to the diagnostics lounge, I entered House sitting in one of the armchairs in the emergen waiting area, reading a neer with his legs on a small table.

  "Of course, it's the alcohol!" he suddenly shouted, drawing the attention of many people around him. "Hello! This guy's a professional doctor, pys golf and everything, I bet," he tinued sarcastically, standing up and walking toward a doctor who seemed to be arguing with some kid.

  Should I interfere in this?

  "Hey JP, e ahis," House ordered me.

  "Well, seems like I have no choiow," I murmured.

  "He's not gonna tell you your mom's an alcoholic without proof," House said sarcastically, pointing at the other doctor. "I'm sure he scoped for varices, checked her esophagus, ran all kinds of blood tests. A doctor like this, they don't make assumptions; they do the work."

  "I'd be happy to refer you the case, Dr. House," the other doctor said, obviously exasperated by House's words. "You seem so ied."

  "What case? It's over," House decred sarcastically. "You're sending her home."

  "PJ," the other doctor said, calming his tone, asking for my help.

  What, now I'm some kind of nanny for House? "Sure," I respoo the man.

  "Thanks," the doctor said, handing me a chart and walking away from where we were.

  "What, you're my nanny?" House asked, right?.

  "How old is she?" House asked the boy now that the other doctor had left.

  "You're a doctor?" the boy asked House, incredulous about the whole iion.

  "Own my owhoscope," House responded.

  "Yes, he is," I added, assuring the boy.

  "Sorry, did I ask you how old she was? I fet," House asked sarcastically.

  "Oh, she's thirty-eight," the boy responded quickly.

  "Strange," House murmured, obviously more ied.

  "What's up?" I asked.

  "My mom," the boy expined, opening a notebook apparently full of notes. "She's got a deep vein thrombosis."

  "Really strange," I said, agreeing with House. "Did she have any acts, blows, or falls?" I asked the boy.

  "No, I would notice," the boy said immediately holding up some kind of notebook apparently filled with post-its and notes.

  "What do you have there?" House asked, looking at the boy's notebook.

  "Oh, just my notes, I have everything here, from the first diagnosis to the current ohe boy admitted, slightly embarrassed.

  "That will be very useful," I said, raising my hand, smiling at the boy, but internally puzzled by the boy's o make so many notes.

  "Useful?" he asked, handing me his notebook.

  "Yeah, gratutions, kid, you got a doctor ied in your mom's case," House said sarcastically. "You, nurse, e and admit this boy's mom," he rudely added, stopping one of the hospital nurses walking down the hallway.

  "Sure, Dr. House," the nurse said, g her jaw, obviously annoyed by his rudeness.

  "See you in the lounge, I'm going to call your brothers," House said, snatg the notebook and chart from my hand and leaving without saying anything else.

  "Thanks, Matilda," I said slightly embarrassed by how House treated her, pressing the nurse's shoulder slightly.

  "Oh, don't mention it, PJ, after all, it's my job," the nurse said ironically.

  "Are you also a doctor?" the boy asked, incredulous, seeing my backpack.

  I needed a pce to store my books.

  "Don't you know him?" Matilda, the nurse, asked, surprised. "He's PJ Dun," she said, making the boy surprised to hear my name. "From the neer," she added, and I noticed the boy didn't didn't reize my name for that reason.

  "So, are you a doctor?" he asked, now seemingly nervously avoiding my gaze.

  "Well—" I was saying, but ilda interrupted me.

  "He's not o, but I assure you he's much better than... other doctors," the nurse said harshly, obviously having someone in mind.

  "Thanks, but that might be an exaggeration," I said, making the nurse chuckle. "Hey man, I'll leave you in the incredibly capable hands of ilda here. She'll apany you to admit your mom," I said, pressing the shoulder of the still strangely nervous boy slightly.

  In the diagnostics louhe four doctors were already present. House was writing on his board what I could imagine was the new patient's data.

  "Hello," I greeted those present.

  "Hey PJ," and now only Cameron responded.

  O of three, way to step up my game.

  "Ok, now that we're all here," House said, g in his typical sarcastie. "A thirty-eight-year-old woman with no previous symptoms or history presents with deep vein thrombosis. How did she get it?"

  "Oral traceptives, smoking, diabetes, obesity," Dr. Foreman said frustratedly, listing the on causes. "What's the point here? A D.V.T. is a D.V.T. Put her on I.V. Heparin to prevent future clots," he added, exasperated. "What's the big mystery?"

  "Fine, you're all sleepy, obviously you need a hint. Kid," House said.

  "The age," I responded immediately.

  "Yeah, she's twenty years too young to get a deep vein thrombosis," House added obviously, looking incredulously at his employees.

  "I treated a twelve-year-old girl once, a soccer pyer," Dr. Foreman said, unimpressed with the idea. "She got kicked in the leg," he added.

  "There was no trauma," I ed immediately.

  "And none of the risk factors," House added.

  "You took a history?" Cameron asked, impressed.

  "I got some notes," House said, raising the notebook he snatched from my hands. "They're not mine, but they're reliable, I think, for the purposes of this discussion. And as for the immobility, well, she's real active right now. Of course, paranoia keeps her limber."

  "Paranoia?" Dr. Foreman asked, surely expressing the same question as the others.

  "Oh, yeah," House nodded. "She's schizophrenic," he expined as if it were nothing. "And her kid wrote this, so it might be a little biased, you know, having to take care of his nutso mom and all."

  Hearing House's words, everyone else in the room looked at him incredulously.

  "You think there's a e? Do we include schizophrenia in the differential for D.V.T?" House asked mogly.

  "Well—" Dr. Foreman was saying.

  "The answer is no," House interrupted immediately. "Abnormal dopaminergic pathways in the brain do not cause blood clots. Schizophrenia is not the cause of D.V.T."

  "Okay, so we're ign schizophrenia for the diagnosis, but again, D.V.T," Dr. Foreman said, slightly exasperated.

  "Correct, and it's our job to find out why," House said, walking out of the room. "Your new bible, study it and pass it to the rest of the css," he added, handihe boy's notebook.

  "I don't study the bible," I said, tapping the notebook in my hand.

  "e on, you live in Texas," House said sarcastically, leaving the lounge.

  After House, the other three doctors also left the room, leaving me aloh the patient's chart and her son's notebook.

  At least the notebook was well-structured.

  On some occasions the boy would simply write dowe, phone number and name of the doctor he took his mother to, fortuhere were not many names.

  Using the phone in House's office I called the few names iebook to ask a couple of questions on House's behalf.

  "Hey kid, did you find anything iing?" After several hours and many dozens of pages read, House asked me as he walked to his desk.

  "I made some follow-up calls with some of the doctors present," I said, pushing the notebook in front of him, "other than a visit to an ophthalmologist, there wasn't much of i, at least until today she had a 0.12 blood alcohol level even though her son wrote that the st alcohol she had was three days ago," I said, pointing to one of the st pages iebook that I had marked.

  "Yeah, I heard that." Taking the notebook from my hand, he read the part I had marked for him.

  "Do you believe the kid?" I asked seriously. If it's true and the woman hadn't ed more alcohol today, then we had more symptoms to sider.

  "He's a good kid," he said slowly, pg the notebook on his desk.

  "That doesn't answer my question."

  "No, it doesn't." Leaning back thoughtfully in his chair, House replied.

  At that moment, House's pager went off. "What's happening?" I asked, seeing the man frown, but not receiving a response.

  Several mier, Cameron and Dr. Foreman arrived at the lounge. House had called Foreman from his office, leaving Cameron aside.

  "So, when I said no psych meds, I'm just curious— which word didn't you uand?" House sarcastically asked Dr. Foreman talking loud enough that we could even hear outside.

  "The Haldol had nothing to do with the bleed, you know that." Dr. Foreman defended himself. "I used it purely as a chemical restraint."

  "Oh, great," House decred with false relief. "Well, that's good to hear, so she won't experieny of those pesky little side effects you get when your motives aren't pure. Oh, wait," he added ironically.

  "Those side effects are so rare!" Dr. Foreman defended himself, annoyed.

  "assing out, increased fusion, depression?" House asked. "That's not gonna happen," he responded sarcastically. "That's not gonna screw up our diagnosis, 'cause you just used it to restrain her. I'm so relieved."

  "She spit on my face," Dr. Foreman excimed indignantly.

  "That must have been shtening for you," House mocked.

  "What was I supposed to do, tie her down?" Dr. Foreman asked.

  "Yeah," House replied as if it were obvious.

  "What happened?" Without intending to interrupt the other doctors' discussion, I leaned slightly and asked Cameron.

  "The patient bled out two units."

  "The clotting studies," Chase said, arriving from the hallway. "Pretty fast. Did you promise to date the entire b?" Ign me, he asked Cameron.

  "No, I save that for emergencies," Cameron replied monotonously. "I told them she bled out two units, and if it happened again, she'd die," he added, taking the papers from Chase's hand.

  "If it had happe home, she would have died," Chase said, disappointed. "And the ER doctor was gonna send her home."

  "May I?" When Cameron finished reading the test results, I asked immediately, receiving the dot.

  "I used my best judgment," Dr. Foreman excimed.

  "It turns out your best judgment is not good enough. Here's an idea: ime, use mine," House responded.

  "I think they're choosing a movie," Cameron said sarcastically.

  "Why did the patient bleed out?" House asked, ing out of his office.

  "The clotting studies so far are normal," Cameron replied.

  "Well, cover your ears if you don't wao spoil the ending," House said arrogantly. "Everything was normal, except for a prolonged P.T. time, which means what?" he asked.

  "Usually it means whoever drew the blood didn't do it right," Dr. Foreman said, exasperated.

  "Oh, that's right, because you drew the blood," House said. "But you were precise because you khe tube urely for the P.T. study."

  "That's right," Dr. Foreman responded.

  "And I'm right with you. I trust this result for two reasons: A) because you are a good doctor, and B) because five milligrams of I.V. Haldol makes for a spectacurly cooperative patient," House decred ironically.

  House's words, obviously irritating Dr. Foreman, caused him to walk away from the versation.

  "The prolonged P.T. time makes me think she's got a vitamin K deficy," House decred, ign Dr. Foreman.

  "Vitamin K would expin the bleed, but not the clot," Cameron disagreed.

  "Without vitamin K, protein C doesn't work. Without protein C, she clots," House expined. "Clotting and thinning all at the same time."

  "What about another drug iing with Heparin, an antibiotic like ampicillin?" Cameron asked. "That would cause the bleed."

  "She's not on ampicillin," I disagreed. "Two months ago she pined of a sore throat, and her son got her ampicillin, which she refused to take," I expined, recalling the information from the notebook.

  "He just said she didn't take it. What is it, everybody lies except for schizophrenid their children?" Cameron asked, exasperated.

  "It's more likely than malnourishment. Why not scurvy or the pgue?" Chase asked.

  "I wish my idea was as cool and with it as yours," House said, pretending to be impressed. "What is yours, by the way? Do you have one?"

  "Alcohol," Chase responded immediately. "It causes immobility, which expins the D.V.T."

  "It also causes cirrhosis," I nodded. "If it's true that the woman didn't drink more alcohol today, the 0.12 blood alcohol level be expined by liver damage."

  "Yeah, it also expins the bleed and the prolonged P.T. time," Chase said, gng at me. "Let's ultrasound the liver."

  "Three theories," House said, amused. "Check out her ppicillin and diet," he said, nodding to Chase and Dr. Foreman. "Then ultrasound her liver. Let's find out whht before she bleeds to death."

  "Let's go," Dr. Foreman told Chase with a nod.

  "Wait," House said with a broad smile. "Take the kid with you," he added, patting my shoulder, which made both Chase and Dr. Foreman frown.

  Great.

  ---

  Author Thoughts:

  As always, I'm not Ameri, not a doctor, and not a fighter.

  Normally this chapter would be uploaded an ho, but I'm going to try to post at different times from now on to see when I attract more readers.

  With that said,

  I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

  Thank you for reading! :D

  PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.