Friday 2-3-06

Friday, February 3rd, 2006 06:13 am
[identity profile]
It's noon before he makes it to the clinic.

His last day.

He's sitting at the desk, with a cup of coffee and Johnny Cash on the radio. He'd brought Cash in from town, and the pup in on the floor chewing on a rawhide bone.

Dr is in. Come say goodbye. He's on slowtime unil this evening
[identity profile]
Even he thinks it's ironic that he's put more hours in to the clinic since resigning than he put in any other time.

There is some sadness in him about leaving. He's gotten sed to it. He actually cares about the kids at Fandom High.

But it's time. He's ready to move on. To what, he's not sure. Maybe nothing. Maybe he'll just retire and enjoy the days without responsibility or obligation. Maybe he'll learn to cook so he can fix elaborate dinners for Geoff.

He'd spent the night at Geoff's, and once settled behind the clinic desk, he pulled out his phone to check messages. There was just one but it seemed the world stopped while he listened to it.Arcs of pain throbbed in lis leg. He knew it was subconscious, there was nothing wrong with his leg.

In any case, the clinic is open around 10 am, though the doctor is nowhere *ahem: Read: NOWHERE* to be seen. With Cash on the radio and Coffe in the pot the clinic is, apparently abandoned. Feel free to stop by, because the doors are open...
[identity profile]
He opens the clinic around 10 am, puts a pot of hazelnut coffee on to brew, and a soft jazz CD on the stereo system.

He fishes a red lolly pop out of the desk drawer, then commences to going throug the drawers. There's not much, really. He's made sure of that with his periodic and impulsive cleaning sprees. He found the box of pens Wilson had ordered long ago, that he'd retrieved out of the trash after one of his fits of total destruction. He sighed and stashed the flimsy plastic container in his shoulder bag.

There wasn't much else worth keeping, but he put what little there was in a small box. The desk in he office was much the same, and the box he'd filled was light enough that he could manage it back to his apartment. He set to work on reorganising the filing cabinent in the office, because it was something to do to pass the time.

Doctor is in and available, though on SP until after 3pm est. Assistants were welcome to pick up a thread. Come bleed, steal coffee, or say goodbye. Friday will be Dr House's last day in the clinic

(no subject)

Tuesday, January 31st, 2006 06:42 am
[identity profile]
The clinic doors are open first thing Tuesday morning. Dr House is at the desk in his office, with the door shut. He is disinclined to sit in the waiting area where coffee is brewing and a soft jazz CD is playing. He's writing in a notebook, his hand jerking across the page in spurts, o laying dormant while his mind processes a thought.

Friday. Four days. he can handle this for four days. He's asked for a permanent leave of absence effective Friday. After that? Maybe he'll go to Michigan and see his moher. Or to Vegas and blow all his money. Or Jamaica and get hs hair braided. Or Venice to see the streets of water. He really hasn't decided.

The doctor is in, but the mun is away until afternoon. Assistants, please tag in. Susan, if you're around House *may* attempt to talk to you.
[identity profile]
The clinic is open bright and early, but Dr House is nowhere to be found. If one looks hard enough, he's on the floor in the office, behind the desk, with his iPod headphone in his ears and a not!puppy on his chest. Interrupting him would not be wise.

He slips out around 11am and heads in to town. He returns on a motorcycle, which he parks in front of the apartment door. It's a Triumph model, and it's his new baby. Touch it and die. He had it specially ordered and designed to accomodate his leg and his cane.

He has an appointment to speak with the principal, so he completely by passes the clinic and heads down to talk to him.

House will be scarce today, due to getting the motorcycle and talking to the principal. Hopefully one of the assistants will step in and cover any tags House! mun is *not* available until after 3:30 pm est in any case

Sunday Morning

Sunday, January 29th, 2006 10:15 am
[identity profile]
He'd used his leg a an excuse to avoid leaving his apartment. It had nothing to do withthe mun being over threaded or on the phone off and on last night dealing with personal stuff. Mun appreciates everyone who tride to get House invovled and apologises for my RL limitations that prevented him jumping in. He had no intention of going to the gym because of the snow, but he would have helped in the clinic

Sitting at the desk in the clinic Sunday morning, he felt bad about that. Guilty, even. He could have asked Geoff to help him get to the gym, but the fact was he didn't want to. And, well, in his defense, he didn't know how bad it was going to get. He'd been quite content to spend the weekend snowed in with Geoff, talking and laughing and, well, other things that brought a smile to his face.

But in truth, he knew he had a back slide. He was trying not to use his leg as an excuse anymore, or at least not when it wasn't really a problem. Getting across campus to the gym would have been difficult, even with Geoff's help, because snow and cane do not mix well. That he could justify to a point. But when Pippi had come to him, through the clinic door, and he'd still refused to help? He couldn't really justify that. He was selfish and not for the first time, he sat alone and wondered what he was doing.

It wasn't that the clinic was too much responsibility for him, but he wasn't sure exactly what it was. He'd fallen back on his pattern of avoiding clinic as much as possible, putting in just enough hours to say he was managing it. And he was. Wilson still helped a great deal, which House appreciated that. But he wasn't happy. He hadn't been happy for a while. The non-human factor of most of the kids really bothered him because despite his best efforts he simply didn't know how to help them in most cases.

He sighed and sipped at his coffee and waited to see if anyone would come down to the clinic.

Doctor is in. He has coffee and Cash, both puppy and music. All is right with the world. His discontent is the start of his leaving Fandom arc, and he will eventually seek out the Principal to discuss things. But not yet. Bring your injured to him now, if you dare

[OOC: Mun is AFK for a bit

(no subject)

Wednesday, January 25th, 2006 03:40 pm
[identity profile]
He'd checked on Vala, of course, but he hadn't opened the clinic because he just didn't want to deal with it. The on-call light was on, and he was technically available. If needed. He spent the morning lounging on the couch watching mindless television to pass the time. He hadn't decided if he was going to keep the appointment with Susan Dr Pevensie, but he found himself letting Cash out at quarter to two, and five minutes later he was in the clinic.

He sat at his desk and sighed. Maybe he should bring the plant from Blair back to the clinic. It might cheer the place up, once it started to grow. And Blair had said he should talk to it. He had plenty of time to talk to inanimate objects when he was working clinic.

He opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out a thick manilla envelope. His medicalfile. Copies of doctor's reports, his current perscriptions, the pages of the notebook Wilson logged his progress and reactions in after he gave up the Vicodin. He sighed again and swiveled in his chair to look at Susan's door. He didn't need her to tell him he was a addict, and he didn't appreciate ehr making assumptions as such. He was an addict, and he knew it. And aside from a couple of teeny timy little slips, he'd been off the Vicodin since November 20. And did those slip ups really count, when he'd puked the pills back up each time? Probably.

The doctor is in, but he has an appointment with Dr Pevensie on the books. The question remains if he will honor the appointment or not. If he does, the on-all light will be on, but I wouldn't recommend interrupting. If he doesn't, the on-call light may remain on because he's feeling somewhat anti social and I wouldn't recommend interrupting hisbrooding. Just fair warning, yo.
[identity profile]
He'd enjoyed the poetry class quite a bit, despite the headache throbbing at the back of his head.

He wasn't planning on reopening the clinic, but he'd left his cell phone on the desk when he'd rushed off to get to the class on time.

He sat down at the desk for some reason unknown to him and started going through the desk drawers, cleaning them out.

The doctor is not officially on duty. but that doen't mean you can't come in.

Clinic [1/24]

Tuesday, January 24th, 2006 01:22 pm
[identity profile]
Susan opens the Clinic, assuming it's one of Dr. House's bad days, and not knowing which of the aides is expected today.

She herself has two patients to get ready for. So she hopes that someone comes to take over Reception fairly soon.
[identity profile]
It was one of those mornings, where he woke up, edgy and restless probably as a result of the nightmare from the previous evening. Whatever the cause, Wilson hit the floor already wound up and going at 150%.

Dressed in his old worn jeans, a red t-shirt with a flannel shirt overtop he swung into the Clinic, carrying a cup of coffee from the perk and a bag of supplies he’d picked up from the Town Clinic when he’d stopped in to flip the ‘On Call’ light on. Dropping a set of CDs into the player, ranging from Afro Celt Sound Systems to NINs, he stripped down to just the t-shirt and jeans, before going to the supply cabinet and digging out the small box of tools they kept there.

In short order the celtic tones with deep drum bass line of the ACSS was thumping through the Clinic, mixing with the sounds of a ratchet and the sloshing of water and cleaning chemicals.

Yep it was that time again a full tear up the exam rooms and strip clean them to within an inch of their lives. Feel free to interrupt him; you might just have to shout over the music to get his attention.

Doctor on duty…just follow the sound singing.

Saturday 1-21-06

Saturday, January 21st, 2006 11:36 am
[identity profile]
He stashed his crutches in the office and sat in the rolling chair from the desk. He had charting to finish, notes about Thursday night to document.

He didn't remember writing excuses for the kids, and wondered if he'd done it so automatically that he forgot he'd done it, or if he'd, well, forgotten to do it.

He tugged the crossword puzzle out of the desk drawer, but couldn't concentrate on that either.

Doctor is in. No coffee, no Cash -neither dog nor music. No mobility either, but he's not immediately advertising that. You know how pools without life guards say 'Swim At Your Own Risk'? Yeah.

[OOC: Slowtime likely, yeah, but don't hesitate to tag in]
[identity profile]
The fever had broken a little more than 24 hours ago so Wilson knew he was no longer contageous. Simply congested, tired and achey none of which were good reasons to keep away from the clinic another day.

So, despite the scolding he knew he would get from Aziraphale, Wilson trekked his way up to the school and set about opening up the clinic for the day.

Doctor is in. There is coffee and the makings for tea. The bump in the chair behind the desk working the crossword is your doctor.

(no subject)

Monday, January 16th, 2006 08:03 am
[identity profile]
He'd had a comfortable dinner with Wilson, then retired to the small apartment with Cash. Cash had taken a while to settle down, preferring to run around the apartment and pester House to throw his ball for him. The pair had finally collapsed in the bed, sometime after midnight.

House swung open the clinic doors just after 8 am. He was showered and shaved and breakfasted. Cash had eaten and romped out in the courtyard. It was a rare morning for House, and the clinic was the last place he wanted to be, but there he was. At the desk, sucking on a red lolly while Cash played with the ball at his feet.

Dr is in. Coffee is brewing, Johnny Cash is singing to the waiting room. Come on in. He is still taking blood samples, if anyone is willing to give
[identity profile]
He'd slept in, because it just felt good to sleep. He rolled out of bed around 10, let Cash out in the courtyard while he showered and took his meds with toast. The puppy was more than ready to come in, and House took a few minutes to play with him before heading into the clinic.

He sat at the desk witht he book of sonnets Geoff had given him. The poetry class requitred he read a few select works. He intended to read every one. For that reason, there was no Johnny Cash humming through the stereo system, but there was a sweet smelling coffee brewing in the pot.

The doctor is in. Interrupt him if you dare

[OOC: On days Dr Wilson doesn't open the clinic, I will post Dr House in as soon as I can after work, usually around 3:30 or so, EST. Today, I crashed and slept for two hours. Despite late posting, one can assume Dr House has been on site at the clinic all day, unless his post denotes otherwise. Clinic assistants (DEATH, Alanna, Lisa, and Paige once House gets the paperwork back) are also welcome and encouraged to make open clinic posts. For the benefit of new players, clinic posts should only be made by clinic staff. In emergancy, ping or email one of us!]
[identity profile]
Though he was running a little late you try getting dried apple pie filling off the next morning but the Clinic was soon bright and inviting (as much as a Clinic could be) with the fresh scent of coffee wafting through the air and a certain oncologist kicked back with a crossword puzzle stack of paperwork.

Doctor is in!
[identity profile]
Though he wasn't sure if House had gotten his annoucement out to the school yet, Wilson went ahead and opened up the School Clinic as they'd discussed the night before.

Letting Cash out of the apartment, he reached down and ruffled the puppy's ears. "Did he already leave you on your own little guy? Come on then, let's get the day started."

Opening the front door of the clinic, Wilson gave Cash a quick run through the courtyard to be a good puppy then called him back into the reception area of the clinic, tossing him a new squeak toy that he'd picked up on his way up from town.

He hadn't been back to the clinic since the night he'd left the apartment and though he expected to feel a little strange, he soon found himself settling into his usual routine. Starting coffee, a nice Kona blend today, he straightened up the waiting room and settled down at the desk to do some paperwork.

Wilson was fairly certain that House hadn't thought to update the supplies in awhile and they had talked specifically about Wilson keeping up with the back office work of both clinics. So, settling down with the paperwork and a mug of coffee Wilson got his day started.

Doctor is in, come say hello!

[ooc: At work so on a SP schedule :)]

(no subject)

Sunday, January 8th, 2006 11:54 am
[identity profile]
Saturday had been a good day for him. He hadn't managed to get to the book shop, which was good. He didn't want to see Aziraphale yet. Soon. But not yet.

By noon Sunday morning, he was in the clinic, playing The Beatles instead of Johnny Cash. Cash the puppy was asleep under the desk. The doors were open, coffee brewed in the pot.

The doctor is in. And in a fairly decent mood.

(no subject)

Wednesday, January 4th, 2006 03:49 pm
[identity profile]
House was whistling a happy tune as he took Cash into the clinic. The dog stained and pulled on his leash, wanting to investegate the new sights and smells. House kept him close to his left side, reinforcing the training suggestions he'd read in the book he'd gotten at Phale's shop. House didn't turn the on-call light off right away, though there was more activity on campus than there had been over the holidays.

After letting Cash explore the entire clinic on the leash, House let him off the tether to see what he'd do. He out on a pot of coffee, for the aroma more than anything, and Johnny Cash in the CD player. He sat at the desk, and watched the dog roam the waiting area and sniff a trail to the lab. When House called, he returned to him, sat at his feet and looked up with bright, eager eyes. House rewarded him with a treat, and picked him up.

He opened the doors, though he didn't expect any patients. Cash was back on the leash, because House wasn't sure how he would react if someone came in.

The Doctor is in. Man and dog are at the desk. Cash is asleep in House's lap, House is working a crossword puzzle. You didn't think he'd be doing work, did you?

New Years Day

Sunday, January 1st, 2006 12:12 pm
[identity profile]
He'd slept soundly until nearly 10:30. A shower, a quick breakfast of toast and meds, including aspirin for his pounding headache, and he was more or less ready to start the day.

January 1, 2006. A new year. A new beginning.

He decided to open the clinic doors, just in case. He expected several of the students, and possibly the school staff, would have headaches this morning. He couldn't say if any of them would come down to the clicnic, but at least the option was there.

He put coffee on to brew and Johnny Cash in the stereo.

He sat at the desk, legs propped up on the flat surface, head tilted back to touch the wall.

The doctor is in. He's a wee bit grumpy, due to his own hangover, but that wouldn't stop him mocking anyone who came in looking for a little relief from their own headaches. Come whimper, bleed, or snag a cup of coffee if you dare

(no subject)

Sunday, December 25th, 2005 07:04 pm
[identity profile]
They'd had a quiet Christmas Day in the apartment, and House had soent a good part of the day at the piano, when he wasn't in front of the television.

He decided to go in to the clinic after dinner, because, well, no one had been working the clinic for the better part of a week, and hethought someone ought to be there. Just in case. For a couple hours anyway. It had nothing to do with the four walls closing in on him in the apartment. Not at all.

And so, there is a doctor on duty, so come bleed. Or jam out to Johnny Cash with him, share a cup of coffee. Well, no. He won't share his cup, but there's some in the pot, if anyone wants to partake. There is also a plate of store-bought Christmas-y cookies on the counter.

ETA: Clinic staff, if anyone is around, you can drop by in this thread to get your Holiday gifts from Dr House

(no subject)

Thursday, December 22nd, 2005 11:21 am
[identity profile]
After a relaxing evening with Aziraphale, House felt much better about himself, and the future. There were still a lot of wrinkles that needed to be ironed out, but he was, at last, on the right track.

As long as he didn't screw up again. But he wouldn't dwell on that. He was going to be more positive, focus on the good things. Like a morning without pain. He took a warm shower and ate a quick breakfast, then wandered into the clinic.

He didn't intend to stay long. He had some shopping to do, and needed to go in to town. But for the early morning hours, he could be found with the clinic doors open, bent over the desk working on charting and end-of-the-year paperwork.

Tues 12-13-05

Tuesday, December 13th, 2005 10:03 pm
[identity profile]
He had Johnny Cash on the clinic radio. Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down, a song that reflected his mood a little too well. When it reached the final chords, he hit repeat to listen to it again, his fingers tapping out the beat on the edge of the desk.

He'd been trying to call his father all evening, and had only gotten the answering machince at home and voice mail on his cell The voice mail didn't surprise him, his father never turned the phone on. But the house phone? The fact no one answered unnerved him more than he cared to admit. He had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, maybe not constantly in his thoughts but always close, hovering, never far away.

He was in the clinic, reorganising the drugs in the lock up while he listened to Johnny Cash, because it gave him something to do. He'd had the bottles alphabetical, then rearranged by catagory, and decided he liked alphabetical better.

Hurt came over the CD player. With a weary sigh, he left the lock up half alphabetical, half by catagory, and went into the lobby to sit at the desk to listen without distraction.

"I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel...
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real"

(no subject)

Monday, December 12th, 2005 03:43 pm
[identity profile]
It's Monday. He's been sitting in the clinic all day, but kept the lights off and the on-call beacon on because his mun has to work he's feeling antisocial.

The desk is spotless, though he did take everything out of the trash can after his little cleaning spree on Sunday. He filled the drawers back up, and figures Wilson will have a difficult time finding *anything*, and he'll hear about it later, but it felt good to toss everything when he did it.

He's opened the doors, finally, and is at the desk with a red lolly, and a bottle of Vicodin sitting in front of him. Wilson's crossword puzzle book is there too, but he hasn't written one single word all day.

Dr is in, if you dare to see him
[identity profile]
He's in the clinic before 7am, because he can't sleep.

He'd drank half a bottle of Whiskey during the night, hoping a little alcohol would help him sleep. It had only made his dreams more intense. To the point he'd woken up disoriented and believing he was confined to his bed in room 212 at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, and consciousness did little to ease his mind. He was alone, in his apartment in Fandom, and his leg didn't hurt. He should havebeen feeling pretty good. He felt like he wanted to trash the apartment just to make a statement.

Unable to take the silence of the apartment without Wilson any longer, he'd stumbled into the clinic. He flipped the switch, but didn't open the doors. He sat down at the desk (after switching the festive holiday music for Johnny Cash) and dug Wilson's crossword puzzle book out of the drawer. It failed to hold his attention and he ended up throwing it across the waiting area. That began a systematic cleaning of the desk surface, dumping everything in the trash can just because it was there.

Dr on duty, but be warned, he's hung over and grumpy. Enter at your own risk
[identity profile]
House is in the clinic, laying on the floor behind the desk with his feet propped up on he chair. He has headphones on, connected to his iPod.

Anyone coming in to the clinic might notice his cane handle sticking out from under the desk, or the occassional hand moving as he keps time with the music he's hearing.

Disturb at your own risk. He's brooding.

[OOC: Mun is braving the malls today...pray for her. Will respond upon returning home, if anyone drops by the clinic. Just thought I should post House in, since he is *supposed* to be working]
[identity profile]
Doctor Coffee STAT -he so loved that nickname- was busy restocking supplies from a shipment that he just recently been dropped off.

The waiting room was filled with the scent of the Christmas Blend this morning and The Boston Pops Holiday extravaganza played throughout the whole Clinic.

Doctor is about, throw a candy cane at him if you need him.
[identity profile]
The rich scent of Kona coffee filled the waiting room today along with The Nutcracker Suite. Wilson was working on paperwork, dividing his attention in between a couple of files on the desk. He looked busy but rather relaxed at the moment.

Nothing like a good snowball fight and a sneak snowball attack -House soooo owed him for that one- to put an oncologist in a fairly chipper mood.

Doctor on Duty, come get coffee if you wish.
[identity profile]
Wilson had gone in to town, leaving House in charge of the clinic since, despite a noticeable lack of pain, House didn't care to go out in the snow unless necessary. He was still working out the kinks of walking without pain, but still needing the cane because his leg was still compromised. Aziraphale couldn't heal the physical damage, and the muscle wasn't going to regrow itself.

With a steaming mug of coffee left over form Wilson's shift, House hummed Johnny Cash songs under his breath while he worked in the lab.

The doctor is in, though you may have to ring the bell to get his attention
[identity profile]
*DEATH, returning from the park, makes his way back to the clinic. He not only has his theraputic dance manual, but what appears to be a book on Earth agriculture and holiday traditions. He is flipping through it thoughtfully and then writing things down on paper.

The duck is apparently quacking a rousing rendition of "Old McDonald Had a Farm"

After several minutes, DEATH realizes something is missing. He waits expectently and, after a few moments, a small skeletal rat, complete with accoutrements, appears.*

DEATH is in. Bleed or chat here.
[identity profile]
After a hot shower and a breakfast of toast and Lavender tea, House went into the clinic. He refilled the bowl of lollipops, all the red ones suspiciously missing.

There was also a bowl of bell shaped Butterfinger candies set on the desk. And coffee brewing in the pot, the sweet Christmas blend mixing with the vague scent of sandlewood from Wilson's recent cleaning spree.

Dr sitting at the reception desk working on a crossword puzzle
[identity profile]
It had dawned on Wilson, at about 3am that it was December 1st. He'd been working solidly at the school Clinic for two months and there was something he needed to do.

So, today the doctor was dressed in a red t-shirt over old ratty blue jeans with rubber soled boots on his feet. The smell of coffee filled the clinic waiting room as usual but the whole Clinic was also jamming out to the new Alanis Morissette CD. Maybe he'd taken a page from Crowley's book because the volumn on the stereo was BLASTING.

Wilson sung right along with Morissette, dancing in an exam room as he bent down next to the exam bed, unbolting it from the floor.

It had been two months he'd been working here and he realized that the clinic had not been strip cleaned in that whole time. Clean, cleaned of course but not strip cleaned. So he was spending the day dismantling each exam room to scrub them down with a AMA approved cleaning solution, the smell of the chemical mixing with the rich scent of coffee.

Wilson had to laugh a little. The last time he'd been involved in a strip clean he'd been a first year peon resident and even then, he'd been part of a team, not tackling 5 full rooms on his own. Ah well...hence the really loud music, the coffee and the dancing.

It was going to be a busy day.

Doctor is in, honest. Grab him if you need him or come dance with him if you'd like he's actually not a bad singer.
[identity profile]
Returning from town, House went through the small apartment, pausing in the kitchen to take his meds, then headed off to the clinic. He hadn't worked for more than a week, not since he'd treated Rory and strained his leg. As much as he hated to admit it (and would likely not admit it if asked) he missed it.

His leg ached a little from he chill, and hoped the nausea creeping up on him was from being out in the cold as well. He set a pot of coffee to brew, Wilson's special Christmas blend. The sweet aroma filled the small waiting area pretty quickly, and House sat at the desk with a red lolly and a couple files. His eyes flickered to the side, to The Pill Book sitting like a beacon on he end of the desk.

He reached over to finger the cover, and sighed.

[OOC: He's going to start feeling rotten again, so if you stop by, he may be testy. His bark is far worse than his bite, though, so... OOC the second, mun will be AFK from 9-10 eastern for canon]
[identity profile]
The passage of air was LOUD today and Wilson moved very, very carefully in an attempt to keep the air as still as possible. He was late opening the Clinic not because he was late getting *to* the Clinic but because he was moving very slowly…in the hope of keeping the air really quiet.

Getting the doors open, he started a pot of coffee and sucked back the third 20oz bottle of water he’d been drinking since about oh…not too many hours ago. Putting a happy face on, he managed to do rounds without passing out, which was a blessing, checking in on Rory, Logan and Jack before crawling back up to the front desk.

Sitting down, very carefully –DAMN AIR WILL YOU SHUT UP!- Wilson leaned forward till he could cradle his head on his forearms. Seven…liquors….what the hell had he been thinking last night?

That it felt good to laugh a little and not hurt…andohGodI’mnottwentyanymore

Dragging his water bottle down into his lap to snuggle it close, Wilson reached for the half a piece of bagel he’d been trying to choke down for over an hour now. He was about half-way through it. By noon he might be finished with it.

If I live that long…Crowley is going to kill me.

Taking a slow breath, Wilson sat up and reached for a chart. He was being in his charting and really needed to catch up, if the little black squiggly lines would just stay still long enough for him to read them.

Doctor on Duty.
[identity profile]
Wilson had closed the Clinic briefly for a few hours, long enough to get a shower, relax a little with dinner and House but then he'd forceably dragged the older man back to the Clinic. They had to go over a few administrative items that he needed House's input with so...back to the office.

Now, if only they could behave themselves.

Stretched out in a chair across the desk from House, Wilson was flipping through a medical catelogue.

"I think we could afford it, House and it really would be indispensible.
[identity profile]
Dr House is in the clinic. He doesn't intend to work, but when does he ever intend to work? He's checked on Jack, and is at the reception desk, pen in hand.

He has coffee and lollypops. Maybe even a crossword puzzle book he's confiscated from wilson.

Interrupt if you feel so inclined. He really doesn't mind a patient now and then.
[identity profile]
House wandered in to the clinic, to check on Jack as he'd promised Wilson he would. He grabbed a red lolly from his stash in the desk before heading back to the exam room Jack had pretty much taken over.

He changed the IV bag and read over the notes Alanna and Lisa had made on his chart over the last 24 hours, added his own current notes, then headed out.

Dr not on duty, (he is on call) but on the premisis. Pester, at your own risk

(no subject)

Saturday, November 12th, 2005 11:44 am
[identity profile]
House is a wee bit excited about the evening to come.

He's having trouble relaxing enough to sleep.

So...May as well work a few hours in the clinic, right?


He's sucking on a red lolly, and he's in the office. Disturb if you dare.
[identity profile]
Jonathan Crane is here to help you, No matter *what* your problem is. Please, come visit him )

Jonathan is set up in one of the rooms at the Clinic, his face is still bruised, his nose is still broken, but he's smiling anyways. He's clearly a happy guy.

will have to slow-play

(no subject)

Wednesday, November 9th, 2005 06:34 am
[identity profile]
Wilson told House about his initial talk with Aziraphale, the conversation that focused on his own trials and tribulations rather then the angel's more personal struggles that had come later, while House held him and nuzzled against his neck, a hand idly stroking his hair. It segued in to Wilson telling House about Jonathan's injuries, and then sleep. Peaceful sleep. It wasn't until he woke up that House realised he hadn't taken his bedtime dose of Vicodin.

His leg was stiff, uncooperative. He groped for his pills form the bedisde table, and lay on his back while it worked itself through his system. Head turned to look at Wilson, to just watch him sleep, he found the steady rise and fall of his lover's breath.

He wanted to post another notice at the clinic, to let the students and staff know, unless one of the assistants opened the doors, the clinic would be closed. At least for a few hours. He sighed, sat up, and reached for his thigh with both hands. A few minutes gentle massage, combined with the Vicodin, worked enough of the kinks out that he could consider getting up.

Except he'd left his cane in the living room.

Another sigh, a glance at Wilson to make sure he was still sleeping peacefully, and he heaved himself up witht he aid of the bedside table. His pill bottle fell ove rnad rolled onto the floor. He'd just have to pick it up later. He slipped into a pair of sweats, but didn't bother with a shirt. He limped carefully out to get his cane, and more confidantly out to the clinic to post the same note he'd put up yesterday.

<Clinic Closed, due to personal emergancy. If you have an emergancy and require medical attention, contact Dr House via his pager. Do not page Dr House unless you have a valid medical emergancy. Do not attempt to page Dr Wilson. For any reason.

Satisfied, he headed back to the apartment to convince WIlson to spend a few daylight hours in bed.

[OOC: Wilson!mun is away from the computer all day. House!mun is away from the computer until...whenever...Could possibly be here by 3:30 EST, not likely before due to work. If youhave a medical emergancy...Please understand the muns are away. It would be really groovy is one of the active assistants could open the clinic for the day and negate House's memo. But understandable if that's not possible. Thanks]

(no subject)

Tuesday, November 8th, 2005 06:34 am
[identity profile]
House fell into a restless sleep with Wilson's head on his chest and his hand in Wilson's hair. The fact he hadn't taken his usual double dose of Vicodin kept him from going completely under. He remained aware of every movement from he man next to him.

It was close to four when he sat up, suddenly pulled out of the fringes of sleep with heart racing. Wilson had rolled off his chest, and buried his face against House's side.

Migrane House knew, without question. He'd seen the signs building last night.

He took a few minutes, in the dark, to comfort Wilson before sliding out from under the blankets. He scrubbled a note and limped out to post it on the clinic door.

Clinic Closed, due to personal emergancy. If you have an emergancy and require medical attention, contact Dr House via his pager. Do not page Dr house unless you have a valid medical emergancy. Do not attempt to page Dr Wilson. For any reason.

That done, he went back to the apartment, made sure the blinds were pulled shut and tuend upward to block as much light as possible, then crawled back into bed next to Wilson. With his pager on Vibrate.

[OOC: Wilson!mun is away from the computer all day. House!mun is away from the computer until...whenever...Could possibly be here by 3:30 EST, not likely before due to work. If youhave a medical emergancy...Please understand the muns are away. It would be really groovy is one of the active assistants could open the clinic for the day and negate House's memo. But understandable if that's not possible. Thanks]

Monday Evening

Monday, November 7th, 2005 07:16 pm
[identity profile]
He wandered in to the clinic around 7pm, Fandom Time. Not that that's really terribly important, but it makes for a good entrance.

He sat at the desk with a red lolly pop and the word games section of the newspaper.

He's hoping for a quiet night. And maybe some lab work. With assistance from his very capable partner, of course.

Dr House on duty. Against his better judgement
[identity profile]
Alanna paced around the clinic, a pencil in one hand and a book in the other. She might have even been trying to read the book.

(no subject)

Tuesday, November 1st, 2005 04:43 pm
[identity profile]
Dr House replenished the lollypop suppy in the bowl on his desk. It was a new bog, and he dug the red ones out and dropped most of them in his desk drawer. The one that locked.He stuck one in ihs mouth and slipped two in his pocket for later, right beside the bottle of Vicodin.

He limped to Exam 5 which doubled as a private room (for the likes of Parker and now Mmm Jack) and checked on the patient. Satisfied everything looked good, he headed back to the main lobby and sat down at the desk. With a little luck, it would be a quiet afternoon, and Wilson would emerge from whatever dark corner he was hidiing in...

Dr House on duty (reluctantly) because he's making an effort to work more hours

(no subject)

Sunday, October 30th, 2005 01:32 pm
[identity profile]
Wilson (modded with permission) returned to the apartment after getting Jack settled. House tucked the tired oncologist in to bed, and headed off to man the clinic for a few hours.

He's at his desk, sucking on a red lolly pop, guzzling coffee, and working the word puzzles from the newspaper.
[identity profile]
Wilson really hadn't been planning to hold any sort of Clinic hours on the weekend but this wasn't just any sort of weekend after all. He still spent the morning and the first part of the afternoon back in the apartment with House, sitting and watching really bad Saturday morning cartoons and mocking them in a way that would make T. Servo and the rest of the MST crew proud.

Eventually, the itch had gotten to him and Wilson had decided to head down to the Clinic to finish up some paperwork and ... well ... just in case anyone needed to stop by. They hadn't been told by the school that they had to be open but it was unlikely that Wilson would ever completely lose the office political animal side of his nature.

So in the later afternoon, early evening the Clinic would be officially unofficially open for a few hours, just in case anyone needed to swing by, Wilson was at the front desk and actually he was working on, work...not crosswords.

Pester if you so desire.
[identity profile]
Wilson's routine was fairly predictible by now. Wake up, rediscover gravity sucks, find the shower...blah blah blah.

Opening the Clinic, he started a pot of Kona Gold coffee today No Parker you still can not have any and then grabbed up various bits of paperwork that needed to be attended to, including new supply req forms.

Flopping down at the front desk, he stuffed the clipboard with a fresh sign in sheet on the counter and settled in to work.

First things first however. Behind the counter, all Clinic Staff would find the following note )

Sticking the note up and making a mental note to get said pills, the oncologist stretched back and picked up his first crossword puzzle chart to work on.

Doctor on Duty.

(no subject)

Monday, October 24th, 2005 07:27 pm
[identity profile]
House is in the lab, running the bloodwork Wilson asked him to do. He's brought a small radio with him, so at least there's music, though it has to sit outside on the reception desk so the air waves don't interfere with the lab equiptment.

He's humming along with whatever classic rock song is playing in the back ground, while he runs the blood. Against his usual pattern, he takes the time to scribble notes on the patient files just to show Wilson up. And to show Wilson how much he appreicates how Wilson has stepped up and taken over, allowing Hosue the luxury of skipping out on clinic duty as much as possible. Which has a lot to do with mun availability, but still

Michael's blood work is a straight forward test, and a good place to start. He lines the others up in no particular order, Hank, Parker, Chloe, and Duce.

Dr House is not on active duty, hopefully one of the assistants is working tonight? But House is in the clinic, so if somene stumbles in and distracts him from the blood work, he might reward them with a red lolly. Probably purple or orange, depends on how grateful/grumpy he is

[OOC: If any of you patients are looking for specific results, PLEASE let me know. I'm not good with the 'find whatever you want' thing. Need specifics, please. Duce the obvious exception, House isn't going to get to her blood work tonight since that's interactive and scheduled for Wednesday]
[identity profile]
House has found a new hiding place for his red lollypops. He has one dangling from his lips, another in his pocket for later. No one, not even Wilson knows where they are. yet.

He's sitting at the desk in the office. (It should be noted that while the office is a defined room behind the reception desk, there is a nifty window cut out, and so he has a clear view of the waiting area. That said, anyone needing medical assistance may hav eto make a ruckus to get his attention, since he's quite focused on his hand held video game. And his precious red lolly.

He's also thinking about the curious voice mail he received earlier, asking for his support on a student campaign. He's thinking about doing it, but thought he might talk to Wilson about it before committing.
[identity profile]
Red lollypop in hand (and very much aware *cough*someone*cough* has been in his stash), Dr House is sitting behind the desk in the clinic reception area with one of Wilson's medical journals open in front of him. He's read the same sentence at least ten times, his mind too busy to focus on the words. Last night with Wilson and Angelus had been...interesting to say the least (and yes, vagueness as it's not been played out yet. Hush)

He finally gives up on the article, flips the periodical closed, limps over to Lisa's latest bulletin board, leaving his cane hanging off the side of his desk. The board fails to hold his attention, and he ends up pacing the waiting area of the clinic. Without the cane. Which isn't really good for his leg, but gives him an excuse to take an extra Vicodin.

(no subject)

Friday, October 14th, 2005 08:24 pm
[identity profile]
Dr House is in the clinic this Friday evening.

He's bored. Come entertain him. He may reward you with a red lollypop unless your name is Parker.

Fandom High RPG

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