House sucked in a breath at the first contact of her hands, cool against his skin.
He was quiet for a beat, and then said, "An infaction, a... clot, in my thigh. It was misdiagnosed, the doctors involved though I was faking the severity of the pain in order to get drugs." The memory still caused a wave of rage to pass over him. "Three days it took them to realize what it was, and by then the damage was done. They wanted to cut my leg off, and I wouldn't let them. The dead muscle that remained because of the time delay caused... an incredible amount of pain. More than most people can imagine." She probably could, he thought.
He hated getting to this part in the story, but he knew that she was clever enough to want the whole thing rather than just 'I had an infarction'. And it was easier to talk than to concentrate on her hands. "I might have died, or I might have made a full recovery. I didn't get a chance to test that theory, because I asked to be put into a drug-induced coma to sleep through the worst part of the pain. Then my... girlfriend, who was my medical proxy while I was unable to make decisions for myself, went against my wishes and authorized a surgery where they cut out a lot of the dead muscle." He waved down to his thigh, a sour expression on his face. "Which made me the man I am today. Just me, my chronic pain, and a limp."
no subject
He was quiet for a beat, and then said, "An infaction, a... clot, in my thigh. It was misdiagnosed, the doctors involved though I was faking the severity of the pain in order to get drugs." The memory still caused a wave of rage to pass over him. "Three days it took them to realize what it was, and by then the damage was done. They wanted to cut my leg off, and I wouldn't let them. The dead muscle that remained because of the time delay caused... an incredible amount of pain. More than most people can imagine." She probably could, he thought.
He hated getting to this part in the story, but he knew that she was clever enough to want the whole thing rather than just 'I had an infarction'. And it was easier to talk than to concentrate on her hands. "I might have died, or I might have made a full recovery. I didn't get a chance to test that theory, because I asked to be put into a drug-induced coma to sleep through the worst part of the pain. Then my... girlfriend, who was my medical proxy while I was unable to make decisions for myself, went against my wishes and authorized a surgery where they cut out a lot of the dead muscle." He waved down to his thigh, a sour expression on his face. "Which made me the man I am today. Just me, my chronic pain, and a limp."