A medie, of course!

  In the day-to-day life as a paramedic, there are dozens of emergency calls involving medications. An ordinary person will take any medication prescribed by a doctor without thinking twice. However, if there's a mistake and you actally take medication to treat something you don't have, it cause an overdose that affects your body. This may not be immediate, but if your symptoms don't improve over time, you might tiaking the medication until it takes effect, whether for better or worse.

  Quickly taking the muscle rexant medication, I turned off the lights to walk swiftly to my room, where I covered the top of my still somewhat cold body.

  With the help of a handheld fshlight, I took the pharmaceutical encyclopedia that House had giveo study, carrying it with me to my bed. Satisfied with the bs over my body, I began to reread from the beginning, paying special attention to the overdose warnings for each medication.

  I needed a medication that would cause fever and a rash on the body. I could ignore abdominal pain, nausea, and blood pressure not responding to IV fluids, as they were all symptoms of kidney failure.

  Obviously, the cough started it all. The patient, being sick, went to the doctor, who, identifying a patient resembling the 'type one' from House's category, simply prescribed cough medie. Later, at the pharmacy or before it, there was an error, leading to administering the patient a wrong medication from the prescription.

  The question was, whie is capable of doing that?

  Flipping through the pages and reading carefully, I came to what could possibly be my answer.

  "Colchie," I read aloud, fearing to wake Gabe, who eacefully asleep in his bed.

  It is a medication primarily used to treat gout, a type of arthritis caused by uric acid crystals accumuting in the joints, leading to infmmation and pain. It is also sometimes prescribed for other ditions, such as familial Mediterranean fever and pericarditis.

  "The colchie blocks mitosis and stops cell divisioing in abdominal pain, rash, fever, nausea, low blood pressure, kidney failure, and messing with the bone marrow," I read more fidently, vihat this had to be the answer. A simple error expined why the order of symptoms seemed se; the patient was self-inflig them.

  "What's going on?" I heard from Gabe's bed with a tired nasal tone. "Is it time to run?" he asked, lifting his head still half asleep.

  "No, buddy, sleep," I quickly replied, turning off the fshlight, causing him to lower his head again and immediately fall into a deep sleep.

  Amused by how easily Gabe could sleep, I closed the er of the page, shutting the book to leave it on my bedside table along with the fshlight. I had to iigate a bit more, but it was a good start to a theory.

  Still thinking about the implications and treatment for colchie overdose, I closed my eyes peacefully to sleep.

  As usual, I mao wake up a few moments before the arm clock, turning it off to avoid it ringing. I woke up Gabe to get both of us ready for our m run.

  After warming up and stretg in the front yard, we started our run around the neighborhood. For the season, it seemed like the sun was rising a bit ter, and coupled with the cooler temperature, the atmosphere was much chillier. Despite that, the streets of our neighborhood had the same amount of life as every past day—people walking their pets, other runners, mail carriers, delivery persons, and people heading to their cars to go to work.

  Without really thinking about it, I ted the st p of my usual runs. "Look at that, you did the same number of ps as me," I told Gabe, who was bent over, hands on his knees, panting for air. Gabe could only raise his thumb over his still bowed head in response.

  "Breathe," I said, pg my hand on his back. "Give it a few more days, and you'll be able to do it without any problems. Let's go," I tinued pyfully, giving my brother a slight push on his shoulder.

  "Yeah," said Gabe, quickly straightening up to avoid stumbling, then swiftly returning to try to push me back.

  Dodging the little kid's attempt, I ehe house quickly, with him following behind me.

  "Gabe, there you are," Mom said as we ehe kit to each grab a gss of water. "He apanied me during my entire run," I expio the woman after drinking the water, making her smile in surprise at her younger son. "Look at that," she tinued proudly, embarrassing the little boy.

  Shaking the boy's head, "Go up in Mom and Dad's bathroom," I ordered as I lightly pushed him out of the kit.

  Leaving my gss in the sink to be washed, I left the kit to take a quick shower befoing to school.

  After ing up and grabbing my things from my room, I went to the kit, where I had a quick breakfast. A few moments ter, I left with Bob in his awful yellow truck.

  Listening to Bob's favorite songs through the speakers of the truck, we arrived at school.

  "Have a great day, champ," Bob said as he lightly pushed me out of the truck, moving to the rhythm of one of the songs.

  After saying goodbye to Bob, I ehe school, greeting some of my cssmates I crossed paths with as I walked towards the door.

  Walking through the school hallways, returning the greetings to anyone who greeted me, and trying to ignore people who just poi me, whispering what robably a highly distorted story of what happened in the cafeteria a few days ago. Uo avoid it, I bumped into someone's shoulder, causing a few notebooks to fall to the ground. "Oh, I'm sorry," I said, bending down to pick up the fallen items.

  "Thanks," said the person, and as I lifted my head to return the belongings, I discovered it was Kat with a pletely ral expression. "Kat," I said iing, somewhat embarrassed, remembering the interruption from the day before.

  Surprised, Kat lifted her gaze, furrowing her brow. Then she snatched her things from my hands, quickly getting up. As I stood up with her, intrigued by her strange behavior, before I could ask her the reason, she advanced quickly, angrily hitting my shoulder as she passed.

  Without moving, fused by Kat's atitude, I watched her move swiftly through the people in the hallways. Strangely, like me, some people seemed especially ied in Kat, pointing at her, ughing, and whispering among themselves.

  "Yo, doctor!" I heard someone shout behind me as they grabbed my shoulder abruptly, makiurn quickly. In front of me was aremely rge teenager with obvious ht. "What do you think this is?" he asked loudly with a silly smile, showing me his forearm where a bck patch was stuck. As he dispyed it, he tinuously smiled at a group of teenagers beside him.

  "That's dirt, probably mud. Take a bath," I quickly responded, removing his hand from my shoulder, annoyed by his obvious attempt at a bad joke. I imitated Kat's previous a, hitting the teenager's shoulder as I walked to my locker.

  As I walked, I could hear the teenager's panions making fun of him.

  Thinking about what I could have doo bother Kat so much, I tinued walking until I reached my locker, where my four friends were already cheerfully chatting.

  "Hey," I greeted everyone as I opened my locker. "SuperStar," Brock said cheerfully as he friendly hit my shoulder.

  "Is everything okay?" An asked, arms crossed in front of his body.

  "Yeah," I said, still a bit upset about the issue with Kat and especially the ht teenager's joke.

  Closing my locker in front of my calm friend, "Fet it, just an idiot," I said much calmer.

  "I know a lot of them," An joked with a small smile, pointing his gaze at our three friends.

  Amused, I lightly hit his arm in feigned disagreement.

  Incredibly, my geou his arm caused an immediate rea. With a futile attempt to hide the pain, An quickly stepped back out of my reach.

  "Wow, An, are you okay?" I asked, ed.

  "Yeah!" he quickly resporying to downpy the issue.

  Before I could tih my interrogation attempt, "PJ!" I heard Sheldon's high-pitched voice behind me.

  Trying to warn my calm friend that the versation wasn't over, a rather unsuccessful attempt sihe foy warning lendidly ign me.

  "Sheldon," I greeted the boy with a nod that he imitated.

  " we go to ow?" he asked hopefully. Sheldon's natural plexion was usually pale, but today, for some reason, the boy looked much paler and sicker than usual.

  "Feeling okay, little buddy?" I asked, lightly toug his forehead to check if he had an abnormal temperature.

  "Yeah, just a little tired," the boy assured.

  "Didn't sleep well st night?" I calmly asked the little boy.

  "Oh, no, no, definitely got the necessary hours for my body's development," he eloquently replied.

  "Then you didn't have enough food for breakfast. Want some of my lunch?" I offered as I turo take out my lunch bag.

  "Oh no, I'm very young, and I have many things to aplish," the boy asserted quickly, denying my offer.

  "What do you mean?" I asked intrigued.

  "He's afraid of food," Geie responded, amused, standing a few steps away, making David, amazed by the idea, stare at the boy pletely incredulous.

  "Solid food is a health hazard," Sheldohe o expin immediately, despite the incredulous looks from those in front of him.

  "So you did anything this m?" I asked, ed for the little boy's health.

  "Oh, yes, I had a banana shake with oats," the boy replied.

  "Okay then," I said, somewhat relieved. "Do you guys have everything you need?" I asked my friends in general, receiving positive responses. "Well the's go," I said, urging the little boy to walk ahead of me, walking with my friends to our first period.

  Csses went on with the usual daily routine, even though Sheldon wasn't as active as usual. Apparently, he had enough energy to quickly ahe questions asked by the teachers, tinuing our petition of responses.

  When lunchtime arrived, my friends and I sat at the table Regina and her friends used as their own. After quickly sing everyone in the cafeteria, I noticed Kat wasn't present, and Sheldon had only a small ilk box and a tiny jelly in front of him.

  Listening as my three more excited friends began talking about some current popur movie, "So, are you going to tell me what's going on with your arms?" I asked, leaning towards my friend much calmer.

  With a deep sigh, An slightly shook his head. "It's just a training act," he said quietly with a small smile, undoubtedly trying to make me not worry about what happened.

  Before I could ask him what he meant by a 'training act,' two slender arms ed around my neck, startlih the suddenness of the situation. "Hey, handsome," Regina greeted as she sat o me, pushing Aly, who quickly moved on his own, avoiding Regina's hand.

  "You scared me," I joked with Regina when she finished settling into her seat, opening a sad bowl.

  "Oh, I'm sorry," the girl responded, amused, pushing her shoulder against mine.

  As Regina's two friends also took a seat at the shared table, each group of friends tinued with their own versations and lunches, at least for those who could easily eat. It was a bit challenging for me because Regina always had my arm trapped with hers.

  After lunch, we tinued with our st two periods to go to training where, like in the previous sessions, the coaches gave us a physical circuit to start, and we ended up running and practig the pys we already knew.

  "Hit the showers," Coach Cooper shouted after blowing his whistle loudly, allowing many of my teammates, myself included, to internally celebrate as we were all generally tired.

  "PJ, e here," Coach Cooper shouted, separating me from my teammates. "Hello, son, I know this isn't your problem, but—" Mr. Cooper tinued, pg his hand on my shoulder and making sure no one was around to hear, "it's about Sheldon. You know he's—" he paused abruptly, searg for the right word, "special," he said uainly about the use of the word, "but nothing like what's happening now. He's afraid of food," he fessed quickly, speaking as if the idea were pletely unheard of, "so what I wao ask you, as you're my son's friend, and I know from his word that you're one of the few people he respects, maybe you talk to him," Mr. Cooper asked hopefully.

  "I heard it from Sheldon; don't worry about it, Mr. Cooper. Sometimes children of Sheldon's age, when they experieraumatic event, may develop a minor phobia. But I'm sure he'll overe it with time," I assured the man, trying to reassure him.

  "That's exactly what I told Mary. Well, anyway, I'd appreciate it if you could talk to him," Mr. Cooper finished with a slight embarrassed smile.

  "Of course, sir. I'll talk to Sheldon," I assured him calmly.

  With a pat on the shoulder, Coach Cooper walked toward the locker room, with me a few steps behind him.

  Wheered the locker room, to my unfortunate and unpleasant surprise, most of my teammates had already finished 'ing' their sweat in the showers. The ck of hygiene in teenagers never ceases to amaze me.

  Separating from Mr. Cooper, I quickly went in to grab a towel ao the showers, where a thick cloud of steam weled everyone roached.

  After ing my body, making sure to what needed ing, I emerged bato the locker room, where I was retively alone. Grabbing my things from my locker, I started dressing quickly.

  Once ready, I gathered my belongings to leave the locker room. However, in one of the locker aisles, I ran into An, who was quietly applying some oio his arms. Fog on his arms, whitil a few minutes ag the eraining session and school duration were pletely covered, I said, surprised, "An, what happened?" I asked, approag the teeo get a better look at his limbs.

  Bruises covered his long, swollen arms.

  "It's nothing," the usually calm teenager said, strangely hiding his arms under a towel quickly.

  "Let me see; it's clearly something, idiot," I said, a bit annoyed. "What kind of training causes this?" I asked, holding one of his arms firmly, avoiding the rge bruise.

  With a hint of shame or annoyance, A his head down, muttering words I couldn't uand until one of them sounded like 'father.'

  "Did your father do this?" I asked, surprised and upset.

  I remembered his dad; the first time we saw him, Bob and I were outside An's house the day we dropped him off after the game. He was definitely a stoid intimidating man. I didn't think he could be an abuser.

  Not receiving a response from the teenager, I shook my head. "I'll tell Coach Cooper," I said, determined. I couldn't allow a man to physically abuse a teenager, especially oh two younger siblings.

  "No!" An raised his voice faster, and before I could react, he freed his arm from my firm grip, quickly standing up from the locker room bench. In a series of apparently carefully measured movements, he pushed my left shoulder forcefully while lightly kig my opposite foot before pulling my shirt and f one of my arms slightly behind my back. "It's not what you think, PJ. It's just a boxing training act. My dad teaches me to box, and like an idiot, I thought the best way to improve my guard was by toughening my forearms, hitting a tree," he expined quickly, gradually trolling his tone.

  Struggling a bit to free myself from his grip, it seemed An realized the position we were in. "Sorry," he immediately said, releasing my wrist, lifting his hands to his chest, and l his head in embarrassment.

  "Hitting a tree?" I asked seriously, not going to mention the embarrassing i where a teenager had defeated me before I could resist.

  "I read that some ese martial artists did it to toughen their knuckles, and I thought I'd give it a try," the teenager expined calmly. "It was a bit embarrassing to admit," he tinued, smiling almost imperceptibly.

  Staring at the teehinking about what to do and trying to intimidate him, obviously without result since his ability to immobilize me was something he knew how to do and not just a stroke of luck.

  If what he says is true and it's just something a foolish teenager would do, I would be less worried. But something didn't feel right. I couldn't pletely judge the man after only meeting him once, but without An speaking up, there was very little that could be done, especially in this era. I would only embarrass my friend and his family.

  "If yoing through something, An, you always e to me, and I promise I'll help you without exception. We're friends," I said, surrendering to the problem, trying to appear as serious as possible.

  Being the calm teenager I knew, An simply nodded slightly with a hint of a smile on his face.

  Patting my friend on the shoulder silently, I said goodbye.

  "Thanks, PJ," I heard the boy say as I took a few steps.

  "You're wele," I replied. "By the way, stop hitting trees; they didn't do anything to you," I joked before leaving.

  When I left som was already on the main street in her car, cheerfully dang and singing along to a song bsting from her car speakers, pletely unaware that dozens of teenagers were watg her with amusement.

  "PJ!" Mom greeted happily when I opehe car door.

  "Hello," I greeted the woman as I got into the car, preparing to leave.

  Even with the music bring through the car speakers, we drove out of the school grounds.

  After a few minutes of driving, once again thinking about my new problem with my friend, Mom asked, slightly ed, l the volume of the music, "Are you okay, PJ?"

  Surprised by her ability to sense my emotions, I quickly ged my face, smiling to try to reassure the worried woman.

  "It's just a problem at school," I assured her calmly, making her nod slightly, irely sure, before turning up the music again.

  After Mom parked the car outside the hospital in its usual spot, we entered, greeting Mom's nurse colleagues.

  Having greeted all the friendly nurse colleagues of Mom, I headed to House's office to tihe iigation to prove my theory about the medications.

  House's office was pletely empty, which was usually not on to see.

  Leaving my things on the office floor, I began searg through the books House had o his desk for something that might be useful. Taking a book that could possibly help, I left the offid headed to the hospital library to find more information.

  I o know why and how colchie damaged the kidneys.

  In the library, I found information on gout and its treatment with colchie, firming what I had already found the night before. Taking all the dots, I returned loaded with evideo support my theory.

  Unlike before, House was sitting in his office, boung his e on the floor, staring fixedly at the words written on the board.

  Wheered through the office door, House raised one of his eyebrows, silently asking what I had in my hands.

  "Hello, I have a theory about what might be happening to the patient," I asserted as I pced the dots on his desk.

  Turning his chair to face me, House raised his eyebrows incredulously, giving a sarcastic smile. "Enlighten me," he said sarcastically.

  "Gout," I affirmed, amused, as I leaned in to grab the book he had handed me earlier.

  Chug, House leaned ba his chair. "I don't think a teenager a few years older than you has uric acid crystals in the joints, kid," he ented sarcastically, still taking the book I offered and opening it to the marked page.

  "Exactly, so why is he taking medication to treat it?" I asked as I walked to the brabbing a marker. "Colchie," I said, writing the word at the top. "It blocks mitosis and stops cell division," I expio the man who was reading the book in his hands, with a small growing smile on his face. "Which will result in abdominal pain, rash, nausea, fever, kidney failure, low blood pressure," I tinued quickly, crossing out each symptom on the board.

  "And it will also mess with the bone marrow," House added as he closed the book in his hands.

  "Yeah, you were wrong. There weren't two symptoms, just ohe cough," I said sarcastically to the bitter doctor.

  "Some idiot made a mistake, and because of a cough, they caused kidney failure," House said, ughing lightly as he shook his head slightly. "I k," he affirmed, amused, as he stood up.

  "So, did we reach the same clusion?" I asked, proud of myself.

  "No, I k would be fun having you around," the man stated with a big amused smile. "Let's go," he said, exiting the office.

  Following House, I said, "In theory, with the treatments you applied yesterday, the patient should be better."

  "Yes, that's true, but st night he had a repse, and Foreman did a study of his white cell t; suddenly, it was very low," House expined.

  "His immune system was promised," I affirmed, quickly uanding.

  "Yes, they admitted him to a room," House tinued, frowning. "So, how does that work with your theory?" he asked, smiling strangely at me.

  "A type four," I said disappointedly.

  "Yes, we didn't administer anything for the cough; someone must have do. e in," he said, pointing to a boratory door.

  In the boratory, the other three doctors who work with House seemed tired as they read books pletely focused.

  When House entered, he caught the attention of the other three doctors present. "Gout," he affirmed, imitating the tone in which I had said it, obviously mog me.

  Greetings to Dr. Cameron and Chase, we paid attention to Foreman, who sighed and stood up.

  "Um, are we talking about Brandon?" Chase asked.

  "Gout?" Foreman asked, frowning. "Uric acid crystals in the joints? The symptoms are pain, swelling, redness, stiffness... not one of which is on the board."

  "Because he doesn't have gout," House responded with obviousness, leaning against one of the walls and closing his eyes with a proud smile on his face.

  "Okay, so why mention it?" Foreman asked annoyed. After a few seds without House's respoired Foreman spoke again, "Aren't you going to tell us?"

  Opening his eyes with a surprised expression, Dr. House smiled even more arrogantly. "It's not my diagnosis, kid," he ordered, making the other three doctors focus their attention owo of them much more ied thaher.

  Nodding to House, I quickly expio the three doctors what I had already expio House.

  "But he doesn't have gout," Chase said, denying. "Why would he have gout medication?" he asked calmly, leaning ba his chair.

  "Yeah, your idea also doesn't expin the cough," Foreman quickly added in a ral tone.

  "Because you guys were right," expined House, separating from the wall. "He didn't have two ditions at the exact same time," he tinued, smiling slightly with defeat, rolling his eyes for admitting he was wrong.

  "The cough is the only natural symptom," I said, making the doctors tilt their heads, still not uanding.

  "He's an idiot," affirmed House, "he went to a doctor, who, to feel justified in charging two hundred dolrs, felt the o do something iy," House mocked, "so whoops, he made a prescription."

  "Almost six thousand people die each year from pharmaceutical errors," I added.

  "Not nearly as many as die from doctor screw-ups, but still, not something they use in their promotional material," House added amusedly. "The pharmacist gave him gout medie instead of cough medie," House resolved, making the doctors uand. "And the only thing it wouldn't do: it would do absolutely nothing to relieve his cough," he tinued amusedly. "Occam's Razor," he said to Foreman haughtily. "The simplest expnation is almost always somebody is an idiot."

  "But once he checked into this hospital, he was pletely in our trol," Cameron tered, theorizing. "Our food, our pills, our everything," she tinued seriously. "So even if you're right, no gout medication," she told me with a kind smile. "He'd either tio deteriorate or he would have gotteer," she tinued with a bit of disappoi. "But he got better, and the worse. It doesn't fit; it doesn't make sense."

  "So eveer, two idiots at different times," said House, leaving the boratory.

  Foreman was the first to exit behind him. As he passed by me, he simply looked at me for a few seds before leaving through the door.

  "Well done," Chase said, patting my shoulder kindly before also leaving through the door.

  "Impressive," Cameron nodded, also leaving behind the others.

  ---

  Author Thoughts:

  As always, I am not Ameri, aainly not a doctor.

  I love remakes :D (Resident Evil 4 remake is ART)

  I was accused on one of the pages where I upload the novel of being a marketing agent for vaation. I wish!!! At least I would earn some money doing this hobby. If you don't want to get vaated, I respect your ability to decide for yourself, but I don't respect your decision. For me, vaation and modern medie are a duty, not an option.

  Having said that.

  I think that's all. 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.

  PS2: The chapter is closer than it seems ;D VACATION!!!!!