Saturday, September 23, 2006

Thank God it's weekend

Strike! I managed to sneak out early yesterday and Cuddy didn't catch me!
I even managed to get into my office for a while and read some files.
And yes, I'm still pondering about James' "someone" and I'm ever so relieved it's not Cuddy. Maybe I should get him some Trapanal®, but this is much too radical, even for me. After all, I don't want to do him harm, I just want to know at long last. This is really yanking my nerves.
Well, and I think I'm falling ill.
While I was standing at my desk, Wilson walked by and smiled at me. I looked up, smiled back, waved and then had my legs turn to jelly. I leaned heavily on my cane and had to sit down. "Maybe I'm going to be down with influenza", I thought and went to consult Wilson.
"What ails you, my friend?", he quoted Deckard Cane and grinned at me.
I told him about that prickle in my stomach, casual dizzyness and my legs turning to jelly.
" you remember when that aroused?", he asked, feeling my lymph nodes.
I nodded and told him so.
Suddenly he backed off and stared at me, somewhat pale.
"Greg, if this is meant to be funny...", he began.
I looked surprised and was bewildered.
"You really think I'm pretending to be ill just to get some days off work?!" I asked him.
He gave me a scrutinizing look, then shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. I told you I'm odd of time. Well, I think that everything's okay with you. Maybe you just worked too hard."
"Fine then", I shrugged. "I'm trying to get out of here now, so see you tonight."
"I won't see you tonight", he replied. "I just need some time being on my own, I think."
I nodded. "Okay then...Have a nice weekend."

He's obviously addled and I wished I could help him.
So I sprawled on my couch alone that evening and watched football.
It was fairly late, I was just heading for my bed, when the phone rang. It was Wilson.
"Hi, Greg", he said.
"Um...I...just wanted to invite you to dinner tomorrow. I'll pick you up at 7 PM, okay?"
"Well...okay?" I felt a bit puzzled by the sound of his voice. He sounded stressed out.
"Fine!", he answered and I could almost hear his smile. "Please, put on a suit, I'll take you to a restaurant. And bring your things."
"Um...okay. What have I done to deserve this?"
"Nothing. You're my best friend and I want to tell you something. Goodybye now", he said and hung up. He is odd...

So, this morning I went to town to buy a new shirt and met Mrs. Wilson. This could have been my chance to ask her about that mysterious someone, but I promised not to do so. "Well, I just promised not to phone her...", I thought but then decided to respect Wilson's whishes.
"Dr. House!", she exclaimed. "How nice to meet you! How are you?"
We shook hands. "Hi, Mrs. Wilson. Nice to meet you. I'm fine, thanks."
She invited me for coffee and we entered Starbucks.
"So, how's my son?", she asked.
I grinned. "He's jazzed but fine, I think."
"Jazzed, yes....", she nodded and stirred her coffee. "My poor boy...He's so in love and won't tell anyone, not even me."
She looked me straight in the eyes. "I've got my suspicions and by the way he went pink I could tell I was right."
"You're lucky", I shrugged. "He doesn't even tell me."
She sighed "I wish he would," and absently sipped her coffee.
"Maybe he'll tell me tonight", I said. "He invited me to dinner...and told me he wanted to tell me 'something'."
Suddenly she beamed. "Wonderful! I hope he does! This is going on for years now and he always repressed his feelings."
I raised one brow. "Is that so?"
She nodded and changed the subject. We talked about the oncology and the Department of Diagnostic Medicine, then shook hands again and said goodbye.

I'm all on edge now but fear he'll back down.
However, I thought it would be funny to buy him roses. No white roses like the ones Cameron got. I got him red ones and try to anticipate his facial expression when he gets them right at the dinner table....


Blogger Tine-Bine's Abenteuer said...

Ich glaube, ich bin wegen dem Dinner aufgeregter als Dr. Wilson...

September 23, 2006  
Blogger Dr. Gregory House said...

Sicher nicht aufgeregter als ich.
Aber ich wette, es handelt sich um etwas vollkommen langweiliges, was er von sich geben wird und nicht um sein Geheimnis...

September 23, 2006  
Anonymous Dr. Foreman said...

Naaa? Wie war das Dinner mit Wilson?
ICH HOFFE, dass Sie beide es nicht schon wieder mit dem Alkohol übertrieben haben! Mein Telefon ist bis Montag morgen ausgestöpselt, soll heißen: DIESES MAL können Sie meine Chauffeur-Dienste getrost vergessen!
Ansonsten, schönes Wochenende, sehen uns übermorgen im Krankenhaus.
Gruß, (auch wenn Sie den nicht verdienen),

September 24, 2006  
Blogger Dr. Gregory House said...

Das mit dem Telefon ist uns nicht entgangen...
Wie um alles in der Welt haben Sie mein Blog gefunden?
Danke für den Gruß und lieben Gruß zurück!

September 24, 2006  
Anonymous Dr. Foreman said...

Die Adresse Ihres Blogs hab' ich von Chase.
Er hatte im Auftrag von Vogler im Internet über Sie recherchieren müssen, virtuelle Patientenbeschwerden, Berichte über Kunstfehler Ihrerseits und so'n Kram. Aber das wissen Sie ja.
Ups - oder doch nicht?
Jedenfalls hat Chase nichts Relevantes gefunden - abgesehen von Ihrem Blog. Aber das haben Sie NICHT von MIR, ja?
Ebenfalls einen lieben Gruß zurück,

September 24, 2006  
Blogger Dr. Gregory House said...

Chase, die Sonne meines Herzens!
Ja, ich habe mir sowas gedacht...
Und nein, das habe ich natürlich nicht von Ihnen, aber ich kenne jemanden, der noch sehr lange sehr langweilige Arbeiten wird verrichten müssen....

Sonnigste Grüße,


September 24, 2006  
Anonymous dr. foreman said...

Die Sonne Ihres Herzens leidet jetzt schon an morgendlicher Übelkeit und Panikattacken, wenn ihm bewusst wird, dass ihm ein neuer Arbeitstag an Ihrer Seite bevor steht...

Wann schreiben Sie eigentlich wieder was?


September 24, 2006  
Blogger Dr. Gregory House said...

Schon geschehen...

September 24, 2006  

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