[CLOSED TO HOUSE] No rank, only diagnoses

[chasemd]

Chase had the freshly printed MRI films under his arm and a plastic sleeve containing some other documents in his other hand. He walked purposefully through the ICU, barelly offering his passing staff a nod in greeting as they said hello to him. He didn't have time to stop and chat at this point, as nice as it would be. He had been relieved it hadn

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[c18_h21_no3]

"Which crash?" He gestured toward the room, "This one, or the other three we had in the last hour?" House let his gaze hold on the patient a moment longer before turning to the younger doctor, eyes fixing on him, then the black films under his arm. Results from Rob, no doubt. Either this meant Chase had the diagnosis, or this meant Rob was dead. He almost felt ready to hear the latter. "What did you find?"

[chasemd]

Chase's eyes moved from one door to another of the rooms lining the corridor. "Make that four then." He held out the MRI results. "Rob had a weird crash on the way back from the MRI suite after becoming tachy in the middle of it. I don't if it's a symptom or not. I thought he was coming to, but he wasn't."

He pressed his lips together briefly. "And there's info that isn't symptomatic but could be relevant. Just check the MRI first. What's caused all these crashes? Any developments on the piecemeal meds?"

[c18_h21_no3]

"Dengue Fever." He gestured to Faith. "Peter and this new girl developed into Dengue Shock Syndrome, which explained both his, hers, and the two other crashes. Went into v-fib, and then full circulatory collapse. Took seven hits, and two syringes of epinephrine to get her back. I already ordered a max out on the ribavirin and to start the rest of the patients on mycophenolate. I paged Amber and sent her to do the serology and PCR tests to confirm the diagnosis with Peter's blood."

House took the MRI sheets from Chase's hand, holding the up to the light. "Rob can't handle another crash," he pointed out, looking over at Chase. "What made you think he was coming to?"

[chasemd]

Chase closed his eyes at the diagnosis. Foreman had nailed it and Chase had threatened House if it the diagnosis had been mentioned in any differential, he would do... whatever. Something. But now it didn't matter. A wash of relief rushed through him but he tried not to show it outwardly. He cleared his throat again and nodded. "Good. It shouldn't take long for them to respond to it. So, um, thanks..."

He shook his head. "No, he can't. It was just his heart. Racing, like in a panic attack. I thought for a minute he might be dreaming or something. His eyes were fluttering, but his condition didn't change. We need to find the answer." He held out the plastic sleeve with the funeral notice and Cuddy's email.