Daily Drama (In American TV Shows)

Following House through the hospital corridors, we quickly arrived at a small waiting room where an equally small family of three people, two women, and a man, was waiting.

"He's resting-" one of the three people waiting there spoke quickly, a girl of just over twenty who strangely seemed familiar to me, before being interrupted.

"I'm Dr. House," he interrupted seriously, limping forward, "I'm your son's physician," he continued immediately, eliciting puzzled looks from the people in front of him.

"Oh, you're the one we haven't met yet," the older woman sarcastically spoke as she settled into her seat.

"You're the one he hasn't met," the man added quickly, annoyed, "how can you treat someone without meeting them?" he asked incredulously, even more upset.

"It's easy if you don't give a crap about them," House replied ironically, leaning on his cane and surprising the people in front of him. Before the annoyed family could respond, House continued, "that's a good thing," House commented, selling the idea, "if emotions made you act rationally, then they wouldn't be called emotions, would they?" he continued quickly, supporting his idea, "that's why we have this nice division of labor: you hold his hand, I get him better. If I start tucking him in at night, well, that's not fair to you guys, and if you start prescribing medicine, that's not fair to me," House asserted, inspecting the family's reactions. "So what I want to know is: who stepped on my side of the med? Who cared enough to get stupid enough to give him his cough medicine?" he asked seriously, judging the family.

"When we checked in, Dr. Foreman said-" the younger of the two women tried to say quickly.

"Yesterday, he was getting better; later that day, he got sick again," House argued, leaning slightly toward the family seriously. "So sometime during the day, someone gave him cough medicine," he said, hinting at an unspoken question.

The three family members of the patient fell silent, avoiding each other's gaze.

"Come on, nobody's gonna be mad," House assured sarcastically, "I just want to know who tried to kill the kid," he continued ironically.

"House, I don't think-" Dr. Foreman began until the older woman interrupted him, "his throat was sore," the woman admitted with embarrassment.

Causing House to smile triumphantly, leaning on his cane.

"And now we know," House said humorously, nodding at me, "type four," he added sarcastically.

House speaking directly to me caught the attention of the three family members of the patient.

"Who is-" the man was asking before the younger woman interrupted him, "I know you," she affirmed a second after realizing my presence.

Before the awkward moment of me not recognizing her but she recognizing me, House, with a small proud smile, put his hand on my shoulder, "impressive kid, with a engaged woman?" he asked ironically, falsely proud.

"Stop it," I replied quickly, removing his hand from my shoulder immediately.

"No," the girl quickly defended herself from the puzzled looks of the other people present, "Brandon and I met him in a café where the barista had some kind of accident, and he took control of the situation," she explained quickly, clarifying the silent question of everyone present, including me.

So, the patient is the guy who quickly, by mistake, applied compressions to Sarah, Brandon.

"Well, that's boring," House said somewhat disappointed, "where are the pills?" he asked the older woman, returning to the important topic.

"He took the last of them before he was switched into that room," the woman admitted, somewhat desperate and ashamed.

"They're all gone?" Cameron asked seriously.

"It was just cough medicine," the woman declared, worried.

"No, it wasn't," House denied seriously, "where's the bottle?" he asked, taking a step forward as the woman searched in her bag.

When House got the small yellow bottle, he read the label seriously before weighing it directly to the person behind him, me.

Certainly, the bottle's label had Brandon's name alongside a prescription for Benzonatate, a cough treatment medication.

Handing the bottle to Chase, who was beside me, "anything you can remember about the medicine? The color, the shape, anything," I spoke to the worried family.

"They were small, round, and yellow," the older woman affirmed, receiving nods from the other two family members.

"Anything else, anything, a mark on the pill, a groove in the pill, the shape, a letter," I continued the interrogation to check all the boxes.

"They didn't have any mark, any letter, nothing, just a very small disk-shaped pill," the girl named Mindy explained, whom I vaguely remembered. 

"Good," House said, turning to face us, "Chase, go with the family to the pharmacy and check it."

Chase nodded and left for the hospital exit with the older woman and Mindy behind him.

Without saying goodbye to anyone, House began to walk on his own towards one of the hospital corridors.

Leaving Dr. Foreman and Cameron explaining the situation and the theory to possibly Brandon's father, I quickly followed House down the hospital hallway. "I have some things to deal with Cuddy again, kid; we won't be able to go to the clinic today."

"Understood," I replied a bit disappointed. Dealing with patients at the clinic, despite being occasionally repetitive, was great practice for patient interaction, unlike the work of a paramedic, which wasn't always emergency cases.

"Go watch TV; you need to kill a few brain cells," House sarcastically advised as he walked away from me.

Recalling all the documents I had taken from the library, I headed back to House's office to return them and avoid getting into trouble.

After returning the borrowed documents and books, I decided to follow House's advice and watch TV.

Reading through the labels of the tapes stored in the video section of the library, I found various surgical procedures, one of which I had never heard of before.

Taking the tapes, I looked for the person in charge of the hospital's basic equipment administration.

"Hey, nice to meet you; could I ask for a TV with a VHS player for Dr. House's office?" I kindly asked the library materials manager, handing over the credential that Director Cuddy had allowed me to use.

Checking the credential, looking at me suspiciously for a few seconds, the manager nodded and stood up to hand me a registration sheet with a pen.

Thanking him quickly, I took the pen from his hand to record whatever was necessary.

"So, do you have access to whatever you need in the hospital?" the manager asked as he pushed a cart with a TV and VHS player on top toward House's office with me.

"Yes, except for medications," I replied, causing him to lower his head in disappointment for some strange reason.

"Well, that's great, at fifteen, and you have more access to things in the hospital than many people," the manager continued with amusement as we reached House's office.

After he finished installing and connecting the devices, shaking his hands, "well, it was a pleasure to meet you; my name is Neil. If you need anything, ask for me," Neil said as he stretched out his hand.

"Likewise, I'm PJ, by the way," I replied as I shook his hand firmly.

After Neil left the extension number to return the equipment and left the office, I set up the first tape, sitting down with one of my notebooks to take notes.

In my past life, almost all the audiovisual content I consumed was videos about surgical procedures. The fact that during such a delicately careful procedure, the present surgeons had the ability to calmly explain each step in the operation was and still is something I yearned to be able to do.

Taking notes, watching interesting or complicated steps of the operation again and again, I lost track of time between video and video.

"That's The Grey Method," House suddenly said behind me, making me shift my attention from the impressive laparoscopic technique to treat gallbladders.

"Ellis Grey, a witch, crazy and bitter general surgeon," House continued, grabbing his backpack from behind his desk. "But a brilliant mind in medicine," he added, mocking.

"Do you know her?" I asked with interest at his description of the doctor.

"Yeah, unfortunately," House replied sarcastically as he walked out of the room, bidding farewell with reluctance. Perplexed by House's departure, I checked my wristwatch, surprised to find that a few minutes past the usual time we left the hospital had already gone by.

Dialing the extension number from the phone on House's desk, I thanked Neil before grabbing my things and quickly leaving House's office for the hospital exit.

"PJ," Mom greeted with a bit of fatigue on her face, sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting room in front of the nurses' desk, "I was about to call Dr. House's office, are you done?" she asked, struggling to stand up.

"Yes, it got a bit late; I was studying some interesting videos," I explained to her as I helped her stand.

"It's okay, let's go," Mom replied, grabbing her bag from the seat next to her.

Bidding farewell to Mom's nurse colleagues, I walked out with her to the parking lot. "Take this," she said, stretching her hand before reaching the car.

Extending my hand to take whatever she was giving me, I received the car keys. "You need to practice," the woman continued as she prepared to get into the passenger seat.

Amused, not really sure if her intention was to let me practice or if she was just doing it because she was tired, I entered the car, opening the passenger door.

"You have to press the-" Mom was saying before I started the car and smoothly left the parking lot with a few uncomplicated maneuvers onto the road while listening to the music playing in Mom's car speakers.

A few moments after being on the road, puzzled by the unnatural silence from Mom, I turned to confront her about it.

With an obvious surprised look on her face, she was studying my driving posture. "How do you know how to drive so well?" she asked, astonished.

Annoyed with myself for my foolish mistake, trying not to lose focus on the road and pretending confusion, "I pay a lot of attention when you and Dad drive," I lied, trying not to appear nervous.

Letting out a weak laugh, Mom shook her head slightly, "clearly, you're my son; you have my same talent for driving," she said calmly as she settled comfortably in her seat.

When we arrived home, after I parked the car, we entered, greeting Bob who was on the living room couch, as he usually does, reading a magazine about the updates in his job.

Leaving the two adults alone, who decided to start with dinner, I went to Teddy's room to help her with her homework and talk for a few minutes.

During dinner, after Bob and Mom talked about their days and asked us about ours, "So, it was all because of a mistake at the pharmacy?" Bob asked, surprised and concerned.

"Yes, that's the theory, but we won't know until Thursday when Mom and I return to the hospital," I replied while calmly chewing my food.

"Right, you don't go to the hospital tomorrow," Bob remembered, "do you think the theory is possible?" he asked after a few moments.

"Yes, unfortunately, it's common for pharmacies to make mistakes when dispensing medications," I replied, not giving it much importance.

"Well, that's not creepy at all," Gabe commented amused, being quickly supported by Teddy nodding eagerly.

Realizing that I could scare my siblings, I quickly tried to change the subject, "How are the songs going, Gabe?" I asked swiftly.

Before Gabe could respond, Bob, surprised, put down his utensils on his plate quickly, "I had forgotten," he exclaimed excitedly, "one of my clients knows a music teacher offering me a great price for lessons for you," he said with a big smile, awaiting Gabe's reaction.

Gabe, seemingly surprised, didn't know how to react to the shocking news. Helping an expectant Bob, I gently nudged the side of my younger brother, making him react immediately.

Joyfully, Gabe nodded, "yes, finally," he celebrated, making the other people at the table look at him amused. "Thanks, Dad," Gabe continued after standing up to hug Bob.

"You're welcome, sport," Bob affectionately replied, patting his youngest son on the shoulder, "PJ told me you wanted to have a teacher," he added, smiling at me.

After receiving the good news, Gabe began to talk non-stop about everything he had learned on his own about music.

---

Author's Thoughts:

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

I had planned to upload this chapter earlier today, unfortunately, the internet in my house decided not to work all day. Customer service for the internet company must be a horrible job because everyone who answered my calls seemed dead inside.

With the whole day without internet, I had the opportunity to watch movies that I had on DVD, including 'Grave Encounters.' I didn't remember how much I enjoyed watching Found Footage format movies.

So, I recommend a movie in this format that I saw a while ago and remembered today, 'Exhibit A' is a great movie that you definitely have to watch if you, like me, enjoy this format for horror movies. (It's not a movie with paranormal elements, which, for me, is a big plus.)

Another week has passed, so new thanks are in order. I would like to express special thanks to:

keyakedo

RandomPasserby96

11332223

Having said that.

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

Thanks for reading :D

PS: LEAVE A REVIEW, please.