Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

Following House through the hospital corridors, I was thinking about what he had told me. If his intention truly is to turn me into a great doctor, learning from him and using whatever resources I have to study before returning to medical school would be the best option. In my past life, I didn't get to study within a hospital environment or work with real cases. Sure, I worked as a paramedic, helping people on the streets, but it's not the same.

Without realizing it, we arrived at an office with a glass door. "Yes, if you hear me and learn what I'm going to teach you, maybe one day you'll have an office with your name engraved on the door," House said as he pushed the door open to enter.

Gregory House, M.D.; Department of Diagnostic Medicine, I read on the door before pushing it open.

Inside the room, besides House sitting by an individual desk, there were three other people. The female doctor who had been arguing with House a few minutes ago, somehow arrived faster than us, and two other doctors—one blond and one African-American. All of them, except House, had their backs to me, so they hadn't noticed my arrival yet.

"I recognize that loopy 'G'," House said, pointing at the board where the female doctor was writing, causing her to give him a stern look. "So, what does the jerk tell us?" House asked.

"Nothing good, the brain's losing control of the body. Can't order the eyes to focus, regulate sleep patterns, or control muscle movements," the African-American doctor said, reading data from a folder.

"Yeah, not good news for the family, especially for the kid," House said ironically.

"Maybe not that bad, could be an infection," the blond doctor guessed.

"You wish," House mocked, grabbing one of the folders. "Come here, PJ, and tell Dr. Chase here why it's not an infection," he continued, surprising the other doctors who hadn't noticed my presence yet, as he extended the documents toward me.

With a bit of reluctance, I approached House and took the documents.

"Whoa, whoa, who's this kid, House?" the African-American doctor quickly said, "You can't give clinical records to just anyone, that's against the law," he continued, standing up.

"You're right," House said with false surprise, "my apologies. This is my nephew, PJ, and he'll be your replacement," House continued with sarcasm.

"Haha, very funny, House," the African-American doctor said with an obvious fake laugh.

"Alright, alright, you got me," House said with fake remorse, "I lied, he's not my nephew," he continued with a smirk of satisfaction, "he's PJ Duncan, and from now on, he'll be my assistant," House said more seriously than before, silently challenging the other doctors to say something.

Seeing that no one refuted anything, House continued, "Now that we know who you are, Duncan, tell us why it's not an infection," he said while sitting up straight with seriousness.

Looking at the other doctors in the room, I was hesitant to open the documents. The doctor was right; it's illegal for anyone to view a patient's medical history.

The female doctor who had been arguing with House in the hallway seemed intrigued by what I might say. The blond doctor sitting down appeared to be thinking about why House rejected his theory as he read the documents in his hand, and the African-American doctor, who was still standing, looked annoyed at House.

Making a decision, I opened the medical history and quickly read it.

With a sigh of resignation, the African-American doctor took his seat again, saying irritably from his place, "Why do I even bother?"

"That's right," House affirmed to the doctor. "So, Duncan, why isn't it an infection?" House repeated, prompting me to respond.

"No fever, no white count," I answered slowly as I placed the medical history back on House's desk.

"Correct," House said with a smile directed at the seated blond doctor.

"He did the same with the patient's family, explaining what a myoclonic jerk is," the female doctor said, smiling beside the board. "What? So just because he's some kind of genius, we're going to ignore laws and jeopardize patients?" the African-American doctor asked House, pointing at me.

"To begin with, he's not a genius, don't say that too much, or he might believe it," House sarcastically replied, "and nobody will be in danger. He's here, unlike you, to learn. I'll ask him some questions, and if he answers correctly, I'll give him a gold star on his forehead. If not, we'll explain why not and possibly discover things during the explanation, just like you did with me, except I'm not paying him," House continued as if it were obvious.

"So, you want us to teach this kid?" the African-American doctor asked even more annoyed.

"Oh no, of course not. Why would I want you guys to teach him?" House said with false offense in his voice. "I'll teach him everything he needs to know, along with these books," House said mockingly, grabbing a book from one of the drawers of his desk. "After all, I promised your mother, didn't I?" he asked me with an ironic smile as he handed me the book. "Study it, I'll ask you questions," he concluded.

"Now," House said, standing up, "anyone think this differential diagnosis might be compromised because we don't have an accurate family history?"

"I took an accurate family history," the offended female doctor responded from her spot.

"You didn't even take an accurate family. His father's not his father," House said, stating the like it's obvious.

"Why would you say that?" the blond doctor, now known as Chase, asked.

"30% of all dads out there don't realize they're raising someone else's kid," House replied.

"From what I've read, false paternity is more like 10%," the African-American doctor, Foreman, discredited House's assertion.

"Actually, of all the possible fathers who take a paternity test, about 32% are not the biological father," I said without thinking, as my mind was occupied with the patient's data.

"Not even here for five minutes, and you're already defending me. You make me proud, kid," House said, putting his hands on my shoulders with false pride.

"Even if that's true, it's still very unlikely that he's not the kid's father," the annoyed African-American doctor said.

"Who cares? If he got it from his parents, they'd both be dead by now. Can we get on with the differential diagnosis?" the female doctor quickly interrupted, preventing House from saying anything.

"Fifty bucks says I'm right," House said with a challenging smile to the African-American doctor, ignoring the female doctor.

"I'll take your money," the confident doctor replied.

"Hit a nerve? Don't worry, Foreman. I'm sure the guy who tucked you in at night was your daddy," House retorted quickly.

"Make it a hundred," the African-American doctor said confidently, now known as Foreman.

"What about you, kid? What do you think?" House asked me after nodding to Foreman.

"It's hard to say. The night terrors might not mean anything," I responded, not really knowing what it could be.

"Not about that, is he really his father or not?" House quickly retorted.

"Oh no, I don't think he's his dad," I said after being surprised by the strange question.

"Two to one, Foreman. Looks like you're betting against two people now," House said smugly, grinning.

"Now you want me to bet against minors too?" Foreman said, shaking his head.

"Yes," House said nonchalantly after a few seconds of pretended consideration.

"Wait, who said I'm betting? I just think he's not the father," I quickly said, trying to get out of the mess.

"What's the matter, kid? Not sure of your statements?" House said as he sat back down.

I really wasn't completely sure. Dan, the patient, had a split chin, something he didn't share with either of his parents. But it's not necessarily a paternity test.

"It's clear that the kid only said it because you did. Leave him out of the bet," Foreman said with a bit of disdain in his statement.

"No, I'm in. One hundred dollars say he's not the father," I quickly said without being able to control it. Once again, someone's disdain towards me struck my ego. I should be able to control it, but for some reason, I can't. Possibly PJ's teenage body is affecting my psyche.

"Alright, easiest two hundred dollars I've ever made," Foreman said confidently after a sigh, making House chuckle a bit.

"What about leukoencephalopathy*? In a 16 year old," said the female doctor after a few seconds of thinking.

"It doesn’t necessarily have to be that bad. If we exclude the night terrors, it could be something systemic: his liver, kidneys, something outside the brain," Dr. Chase argued.

"Yes, feel free to exclude any symptom if it makes your job easier," House sarcastically remarked. "See, kid, you can't ignore a condition. You have to keep it in your mind to reach a solution," House continued, pointing at Dr. Chase as an example.

Likely feeling offended, Dr. Chase straightened up and quickly said, "The night terrors were anecdotal. He could have had a bad dream."

"No, the parents said he was conscious during the event and didn’t remember anything afterwards. That’s a night terror," the female doctor next to the board countered.

"Parents said?" Dr. Chase quickly questioned with a prideful smile, causing the doctor to roll her eyes in disbelief.

"That’s a good point. Before we condemn this kid, maybe we should entertain Dr. Chase’s skepticism. I want a detailed polysomnograph*. If he’s having night terrors, I want to see them," Dr. House affirmed with a slight smile.

"Now kid, he redeems himself nicely," House said again, pointing his cane at Dr. Chase as an example. "As I always say, kid, everyone—" he continued.

"Lies," I interrupted.

"Well, you're learning," House said with false pride as he stood up. "Well, I'll leave you to get acquainted, kids. I have to go; it's my quitting time," House said as he glanced at his watch and left the office.

"And oh, Duncan, remember to read that book. I'll ask you questions," he added, pausing at the office door to tell me.

With House out of the office, everyone was silent and looking at me. "Well noted that the patient didn't have a fever or a high white blood cell count," Dr. Chase broke the silence as he stood up, "nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Robert Chase," he continued, extending his hand for a formal handshake, which I gladly accepted.

"Nice to meet you, doctor. I'm PJ Duncan. Sorry for interrupting your work, but Dr. House offered to teach me what he knows about medicine, and he has better books than the public library. So why not accept?" I said as I showed him the book House gave me and shrugged.

"So you're here to make use of the hospital's resources," Dr. Foreman said annoyed as he stood up. "Don't disrupt our work while you're here, kid. I don't know what kind of game House is playing, but I don't want to be involved," he continued angrily as he stormed out of the office.

"Pay no attention to him. He just feels a little threatened," Dr. Chase said, giving me a light pat on the shoulder. "Yeah, he might not be easy to warm up to at first, but you'll see his attitude change over time," the female doctor added as she erased the board.

"You're lucky that House offered to teach you. He's a great doctor. I can't say the same about his personality, but if you're going to learn medicine from him, it's a great opportunity," she said as she also approached. "I'm Dr. Allison Cameron, by the way. Nice to meet you," she continued, offering her hand as well.

"Nice to meet you," I said as I shook her hand.

"So, did you learn everything from the public library?" Dr. Cameron asked after the handshake.

"Yeah, you could say that," I lied, avoiding eye contact to hide my behavior out of embarrassment.

"No matter where you learned it, it was impressive, like Dr. House, but without being a horrible person," Dr. Chase added with a friendly smile.

"Thank you?" I said, confused by his compliment.

"Yeah, even the way you dealt with the patient's parents was like him. You provided a straightforward explanation of their condition. It was quite surprising. I've seen residents who can't even explain a common cold to a patient's family," Dr. Cameron joked.

"Well, my mom is a nurse, so you could say I learned from her how to deal with patients," I quickly lied.

"Oh, Duncan, I remember now. Your mom is the new nurse," Dr. Chase recalled. "She's... how should I put it?" he paused, thinking of his words, "emotional," he concluded with a puzzled look on his face.

"Yes, my mom works here," I confirmed, ignoring the other part of Dr. Chase's statement.

"So, that's how Dr. House knows about you. He probably talked to your mom, and the topic of her son studying to be a doctor came up," Dr. Cameron theorized.

"No, not really. A friend's dad had a minor heart attack, so we came to the emergency room yesterday. I met Dr. House outside the room of a patient with cysticercosis. He thought I was the teacher's relative, so he started a conversation with me," I explained to the doctors.

"Wait, you were outside Rebecca's room?" Dr. Cameron asked, surprised.

"Well, yeah. She looked really unwell, so I felt a bit sorry for her. House came over, and we talked about her symptoms. I remembered reading that the cysts get attached to the muscles and the brain, but because they have a similar density to the brain, you can't differentiate a cyst from the organ. So, I told House you could show the larvae by doing an X-ray on her thigh," I explained, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Both doctors were silent for a few seconds, clearly surprised. "Now I understand why House finds you interesting," Dr. Chase said, breaking the silence. "Yes, that's impressive," Dr. Cameron confirmed with a nod.

Checking his wristwatch, Dr. Chase said, "It was nice to meet you, PJ, but we have to go. We need to talk to Dan's parents about his polysomnograph."

"That's right. Well, I'm sure we'll meet again. It was a pleasure, PJ," Dr. Cameron said with a friendly smile.

Taking the book House left in my care, I said goodbye to the doctors and left the office.

Back in the waiting room where I had parted from my mom, I found her sitting on one of the chairs, reading a magazine.

"Oh, PJ, are you ready? Let's go," she said, standing up and putting the magazine away to start walking towards the exit.

When my mom noticed the book in my hands, her joy was evident. "So, did you agree to study with Dr. House?" she asked quickly, feigning disinterest as we got into the car.

"Yes, for now, I'll be studying with Dr. House," I responded, waiting expectantly for her reaction.

"Oh, PJ!" she exclaimed excitedly, hugging me. "My son, the doctor! How exciting!" she continued, tears of happiness in her eyes.

Patting her back, I waited until her burst of emotions subsided before we headed home.

"So, Florence gave me the chance to take a later shift, and when you're out of school, she allowed me to take a break to pick you up and head back to the hospital," my mom happily shared as we drove home.

My mom continued talking to me during the ride, but I couldn't really pay much attention. I was thinking about Dan, the patient, and the possible causes of his symptoms.

Upon arriving home, I snapped out of my thoughts and, along with my mom, entered the house again.

Bob was sitting on the couch in the living room, reading his insect magazine, which he set aside when he saw us enter. "So,…" he started expectantly as he stood up.

"I'm going to study with Dr. House," I replied, showing him the book the doctor had given me.

"Yes!" Bob cheered, raising his arms. "Well, I guess I'll prepare a celebratory dinner," he said as he sat down again. "Doctor Duncan," he repeated, with a big smile as he picked up his magazine and opened it.

Amused by the situation, I said goodbye to both of them and went to my room.

The door was closed, which immediately reminded me of how Gabe stormed out angrily after the news about the new baby.

Opening the door slowly, I entered our room. Gabe was on his bed, reading one of his comics.

"Gabe?" I called, hoping to divert his attention from the book. "Come on, don't do this. I'm talking to you," I continued, taking a seat at the foot of his bed.

"What do you want, PJ? I'm busy," Gabe said, moving his comic.

"Let's talk," I told him, reaching for the comic in his hands.

"Hey, give that back!" he shouted as I took the comic, trying to get it back. "No, grab the ball and follow me. Don't think we're not going to play today. Thursday's my first game, and I need to be in my best shape," I said, pretending to be full of myself as I stood up.

Leaving the book House gave me to study on my desk and folding the comic to put it in my back pocket, I left my room to go to the front yard. It was still daytime, with people going about their business on the street. Mrs. Cooper's car wasn't in front of her house, so they were likely at the hospital with Mr. Cooper.

Taking a deep breath of air, I smiled at everything that was happening. Faster than my previous life, I was on my way to becoming a doctor, I had friends, more family than I could ask for, I was involved in things beyond academics, and I was living a better life.

Suddenly, the slam of the front door pulled me out of my cheerful thoughts. I turned around quickly to see Gabe storming out of the house, looking annoyed, with the ball under his arm.

"Wow, what's wrong, Short-Stuff?" I said as I reached for the ball with my hands.

"You wouldn't understand," he said, annoyed, as he threw the ball forcefully.

Catching his strong throw, I held onto the ball for a moment, wondering what to say to him.

"Is it about the baby?" I asked, passing him the ball.

"Of course, it's about the baby," he burst out, annoyed. "You're the oldest, always getting more attention than anyone. Teddy's the only girl, so obviously, she's more special. I'm the youngest, no one pays any attention to me. I'm invisible. Now, there's going to be a baby. Not content with being invisible, I'll be nonexistent," he continued, sounding more sad than angry.

Taking the ball in my hands, I approached my younger brother. "Gabe, you're not invisible. Mom and Dad might seem a bit preoccupied, but it's not like that at all. They're just excited about the new baby. Mom said the same thing happened to Teddy when you were born. She thought they didn't love her anymore," I said, trying to lighten the mood with a joke.

Seeing that the joke didn't make Gabe smile—he had his head down—I quickly changed the subject. "Look, little man, if you need help with something, want anything, or just want to talk to someone, come to me. I told Teddy and you the same thing. I'm your big brother. Anything you guys need, you can ask me, and I'll figure out how to help. Speaking of which, we need to find a guitar teacher for you. Don't think I forgot," I said as I messed up his hair, waiting for his reaction.

Slowly lifting his head with a small smile, Gabe nodded slightly. "Alright, thanks, PJ."

Smiling at my little brother, I said, "Now, let's play. I want to win the first game," flexing my arm. "Run, shrimp!" I shouted.

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Glossary 

Leukoencephalopathy*= Is a term that describes all of the brain white matter diseases, whether their molecular cause is known or unknown.

Polysomnograph*= A type of sleep study, is a multi-parameter study of sleep and a diagnostic tool in sleep medicine.

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Author's Thoughts:

As always, I'm not American, and certainly not a doctor.

This chapter serves to introduce new characters. The next chapter will be longer (much longer). Expect a chapter similar to Chapter 10.

Unfortunately, we didn't reach the goal I set for two weekly chapters this month. For the next chapter, I'll set a new goal, and we'll do this every week from now on for special chapter update events.

Someone recommended changing the cover of the novel, but I really don't know what to use. I'm not good at art, so I don't want to make something myself. If you have any recommendations, please leave them in the comments.

Things I want to clarify:

1. I'm not racist. The way I wrote Foreman in this chapter is just for the development of his relationship with the MC.  
2. The same goes for Gabe. I hope I can write good character development for secondary characters like I did for the MC. Wish me luck.  
3. Did you know that the first legal paternity test was in 1924 in Germany?

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

Thank you for reading.

P.S. If you haven't already, please leave a review. It really helps me gain motivation to write and know what you're enjoying about my novel so far. :D