After a few minutes of walking alongside House in a gss-walled hospital room, Doctors Foreman and Chase were there, seemingly discussing something amusing as they were smiling and ughing.

  Whewo doctors noticed House approag, and sequently me, they lost their cheerful demeanor. Dr. Chase simply put on a professional, serious face, while Foreman furrowed his brow, clearly annoyed by my presence.

  "You were right, there's a lot of blockage," Foreman said to House, pletely ign me.

  "I've scheduled him for surgery. They're gonna put a shunt into one of the ventricles to give the cerebrospinal fluid an out," Dr. Chase said, standing upright and speaking as professionally as possible.

  "No more pressure, everything goes back to normal," cluded Dr. Foreman calmly.

  "He's lucky to have you," House said ironically, addressing the two doctors, "and I wasn't talking to you," he tinued, causing the two doctors to be visibly irritated as he turned and walked away.

  Feeling unfortable in front of the two disgruntled or disappointed doctors, I could only nod iing. Dr. Chase returhe gesture, while Dr. Foreman merely furrowed his brow further and seemed to want to say something.

  "e on, kid, we have to deal with the most b part of my job," House interrupted, already several steps away from where I was.

  Grateful for the interruption, I could only nod again. I didn't wait to see if either of the two doctors imitated the gesture. I quickly turned and followed House.

  At a brisk pace, I quickly caught up to him. "Why do you do that?" I asked, annoyed.

  House raised his eyebrow incredulously, nearly half his forehead. "Do what?" he asked arrogantly, still walking.

  "You know what I mean. I think Dr. Foreman already hates me, why do you have to give him more reasons to do so?" I asked, exasperated, trying to make him uand the seriousness of the matter.

  House stopped abruptly, furrowing his brow, and turo face me. "PJ, medie is not a game," he said very seriously. "We hold people's lives in our hands, with families' pressure stantly on our shoulders, breathing down our necks, hoping we help their loved ones," he tinued, gesturing emphatically. "If you care more about people's feelings than your patient's health, you might overlook important things and, as a result, lose your patient," he tinued, pg his hand on my shoulder, still serious.

  "I uand that, House, but there's o antagonize Dr. Foreman or Chase, even Dr. Cameron, to save the patient," I said, now calmer.

  House seemed to ponder for a moment on what I said. "You're right," he said, removing his hand from my shoulder. "Allow me to revise my ahen," he tinued, now with a small smile. "I do it because it's fun. Foreman's face when a kid is right and he's not, it's priceless," he finished with a big sarcastic smile, then turned around to tinue walking.

  Incredulous at his audacity, I could do nothing but stand still and watch him as he walked away.

  "e on, kid, I'll teach you how to duct a real medical examination," House said, pulli of my thoughts, followed by a muttered remark that I didn't quite catch.

  I quickly caught up with him oher side of the hallway.

  "Now, you o uand that in outpatient ic work, there are four types of patients," House said, still advang. "There are those who obviously just have a cold," he said, annoyed, raising one finger. "Then there are those who want drugs from addis to sexual reasons," he said, raising a sed finger. "Then there are the hypodriacs, they're the most fun. Sometimes you pretend they have some horrible disease and watch them get scared," he said, raising a third finger before l his hand again and tinuing to walk.

  "You said there were four types of patients," I said, puzzled by his omission.

  "Right," House said with fake surprise. "The fourth type is the idiot," he tinued sarcastically. "No, scratch that, they're all idiots, but the fourth type is the worst," he tinued, as we reached the reception desk of the outpatient ic.

  "Dr. House, here you go," the the desk said, handing House a folder taining what was likely a patient's records.

  "Thanks," House respoaking the papers without a hint of gratitude. "Dr. House, rep for duty at three-thirty," he tinued after cheg the time on his wristwatch. "You send them in in a few minutes," House instructed the nurse before moving towards one of the examination rooms.

  Quietly bidding farewell to the h a friendly smile, which was happily returned, I followed House into the examination room.

  "Put this on," House said, handing me a gown with his name embroidered on it. "Don't worry, no one will read that," he tinued wheiced me reading the embroidery.

  "Now, I want you to sit and learn how this is done," House said apathetically. "Of course, until I tell you to get up and do something," he tinued in a whispered attempt that I could now hear.

  A few moments ter, the examination room door was knocked on. House, with a look of annoyan his face, said apathetically, "e in," allowing the door to open.

  The one who opehe door was her than the nurse who had handed House the dots, and behind her was a blonde woman carrying a baby, thanking the he womaered the room, the hen excused herself ahe room, but not before closing the door behind her.

  "Alright, what do we have here?" House said as he read the dots while the woman took a seat.

  "This is Madeline, she's 7 months old," the woman said cheerfully while rog her baby.

  "How muu does she get in a day?" House asked as he filled out a form.

  "No formu," the woman said with a big smile, "just mommy's healthy natural breast milk," she tinued while pying with a small frog plushie in front of her baby.

  "Yummy," House ented sarcastically.

  "Her whole face just got swollen like this ht," the woman said, now more serious.

  House nodded in agreement as he tinued reading the medical records. "e here," he indicated for me to approach the baby.

  "Check her temperature," House ordered. "Also, her gnds," he tinued while evaluating me by gently pg my hand on her.

  "She doesn't have a fever, and her gnds are normal," I replied to House.

  "Good," he responded after verifying it for himself. "I 't find her vaation records," House said, now addressing the mother.

  "We're not vaating," the woman quickly ented, as if it were an obvious choice.

  Seemingly taken aback, House looked at the woman and her daughter with disbelief. Theurned slightly to me, whispering, "Type four," before sighing with irritation aurning to the little family in front of him.

  "You think they don't work?" he asked, f himself to avoid making what would likely be an insult.

  "I think some multinational pharmaceutical pany wants me to think they work, to pad their bottom lihe woman said, causing House ao share a look of disbelief.

  Nodding slowly, House poio the toy the woman was holding along with her daughter. "May I?" he asked.

  "Sure," the woman agreed to let House take the plushie.

  Pying with the plushie in front of the baby, making small frog-like noises, House ied the toy. "All-natural, no dyes," House said, showihe plushie. "That's a good business: all-natural children's toys. Those toy pahey don't arbitrarily mark up their frogs. They don't lie about how much they spend on researd development," he tinued, expining to me while the woman smiled in agreement. "The worst a toy pany be accused of is making a really b frog," House joked, pretending to make the baby ugh slightly while the mhed too.

  Pying with the baby again for a few seds, House preteo remember something. "You know another really good business?" he asked the woman. "Teeny tiny baby coffins, you get them in frog green or fire engine red, really," he asserted, still pying with the frog and amusing the baby, but surprising the mother, causio lose her smile. "Why is it reeo breastfeed until six months?" House asked me with seriousness.

  "The mother's antibodies protect the baby for the first six months, after that, they don't," I responded without hesitation.

  "Correct," said House. "That's why these pahink they gouge you," House tinued, making the frog toy jump. "They believe that you'll spend whatever they ask to keep your kid alive," he said this time looking seriously at the surprised woman. "Want to ge things? Prove them wrong. If a few hundred parents like you decide they'd rather let their kid die than cough up 40 bucks for a vaation, believe me, prices will drop REALLY fast," House cluded, his face adorned with a touch of sarcasm, while still pying with the frog and the baby.

  Shocked, the mother couldn't say a word for a moment, presumably thinking about what House had just told her. "Tell me what she has," she said, now more ed.

  "So, what does she have?" House straightened up in his seat and turo me.

  "A cold," I immediately replied.

  Nodding, House hahe toy back to the still stunned woman.

  Probably writing a prescriptioore a sheet from his pad and ha to her met her vaes, give her this medie, and she'll be fine in a few days," he said apathetically, as the woman got up ahe examination room, thanking him.

  "There you have it, the fourth type," House finally said when the door to the examination room closed. "You're lucky; she's a type four, but she was easy to vince," he tinued while taking the file and handing it to me. "Take this to the nurse," House finished as he put his feet up on a table and leaned bafortably.

  Leaving the examination room, I approached the desk where Nurse was filling out forms. "Hello, Dr. House asked me to give you this," I said with a friendly smile as I handed her the file.

  "Oh, yes, very well, thank you very much," the nurse said as she took the papers and checked them. "You must be Amy's son," she said without turning to look at me.

  "Yes, o meet you. I'm PJ Dun," I replied cordially as I extended my hand for a handshake.

  Staring at my hand for a few seds with disbelief, she finally took it and smiled. "It's the first time a person in a b coat has offered me their hand without feeling forced to do so," she said with a ugh.

  The nurse must have noticed my surprise because she tinued, "The doctors here treat us like we're extras, just in the background. The worst of all is Dr. House," she said, nodding her head in the dire of House's office.

  "I didn't know that. Why would they do that?" I asked, surprised.

  "I think it's an ego problem. They study all those years to bee doctors, and they think that people in other healthcare roles don't deserve their time," the nurse said calmly, with a sad smile.

  "But—" I was about to say when someone else cut my words short by pg a file on the desk.

  "Nurse, I want you to schedule an appoi with this patient for tomorrow at this time," ordered a doctor I had never seen before. "Excuse me," he o me and the into one of the examination rooms.

  Without saying anything, the Nurse simply smiled ironically and highlighted the doctor's attitude. "My name is Fryday, but to that doctor, I'm just 'nurse.' I assure you he 't distinguish between us," Nurse Fryday said, irritated, as she wrote the patient's name in the files.

  I was truly surprised. I had never imagihat the type of treatment a nurse received would be so degrading. My mom used to get annoyed with House, but I thougth that doctors in general only treated paramedics that way because they didn't take the time to get to know us. But to treat nurses who worked with them every day like this...

  "I'm really sorry you have to gh this treatment, Nurse Fryday. I hope one day they treat you as you deserve," I said sio the nurse. Right now, I couldn't do much to ge things.

  The nurse, who sadly smiled, handed me another file. "I'm gd you see it that J. I just hope that after you study medie for all those years, you'll have the same mi," Fryday said calmly.

  Taking the papers, I nodded. "I will, I promise," I replied assertively.

  Returning to the office, I handed over the dots, which House took with annoyance.

  A few moments ter, the door was knocked again. "e in," House said, exasperated.

  It was Nurse Fryday once more, with a patient behind her, smiling at the nurse, an a she gdly returned before letting the patieer and closing the door behind her.

  "Hello," said the patient, obviously suffering from sinusitis.

  "Type one," House said, annoyed in his voice.

  The day tinued with House receiving patients and having me perform quick exams that he would ter verify. Occasionally, I pretended not to know how to perform a certai, and to my surprise, House expined, not kindly, but patiently.

  Certainly, House was right; the vast majority of the patients had a simple cold or some minor ailment that they exaggerated in their minds. In general, time passed quickly. After dismissing the st patient, House took his backpad stretched a bit.

  "Well, it's time to go, kid," he said as he left the office with the file of the st patient in his hand.

  Following House out of the offiot fetting to leave the b coat where it was hanging when we arrived, we walked to the desk where Nurse Fryday was still filling out forms. "Doctor House, cheg out at four-fifty-five," House said as he checked his watd filled out a record.

  From the ic's entrance, Doctors Chase, Cameron, and Foremaered briskly in our dire.

  "There's a problem," Dr. Cameron said quickly.

  "Were there plications in the surgery?" House asked as he walked towards the ic's exit.

  "Goodbye, Fryday," I quickly said to the nurse before following House and the three doctors. "Goodbye, PJ," the nurse responded cheerfully.

  "Surgery went fine, he's in recovery, but we took a vial of CSF aed it," Foreman crified as he handed House some data sheets.

  "Really?" Dr. House asked, surprised. "I didn't know you were into older women, Dun," House teased when I caught up with them.

  "What are you talking about?" I asked, annoyed.

  "Yeah, Fryday," House tinued, emphasizing the h even more mockery.

  "Haha," I said, faking a ugh, "it's called being polite," I said under my breath while I greeted the three doctors beside House, who, unsurprisingly, only two of them respoo amiably.

  "It turns out the bowing wasn't the cause of his problems; it was a symptom," Foreman said apathetically in my presence.

  "Oligoal bands*, and an increase of intrathecal IGG*," Chase expined, pointing to the data sheet.

  "Here you go, kid. What diagnosis do you make with this data?" House said, staying still and handihe sheet.

  "Multiple sclerosis*," I said as I reviewed the data.

  "Yes," House said, turning to face the three doctors, "the reason it takes three of you to tell me this?" he asked, intrigued.

  "Because we're having a disagreement about whether or not it is MS," Cameron crified.

  "No lesions on the MRI," Chase said, dismissing Cameron's argument.

  "It's early; he's had the disease for maybe two weeks," Foreman asserted seriously.

  "Mald criteria* requires six months to make a definitive diagnosis," Camerued again.

  "Oh, who cares about McPherson? I hear he tortured kittens," House said sarcastically, obviously mispronoung the name on purpose.

  "Mald," Foreman corrected him dryly.

  "Oh, Mald. Wonderful doctor, loved kittens," House said with false cheerfulness.

  "The VEP* indicates slowing of the brain," Foreman said, ign House's ents.

  "Without the lesions, we 't be sure," Camerued once more.

  "Well, if it is, it's gone from zero to sixty in three weeks, which would indicate rapidly progressive MS," House said seriously, tering Cameron's argument. "Not the fun MS with the balloons and the bike rides for cripples in wheelchairs," he tinued sarcastically.

  "We should wait until we—" Cameron started to say until House interrupted her, annoyed.

  "Start treating him now," House cut her off abruptly. "He walk for another couple of years, maybe live for another 5," House tinued calmly.

  Looking at the three doctors in front of him, House again had a serious look on his fad said, "Break it to the family. I'm going home."

  Defeated, Dr. Cameron walked in the opposite dire of House.

  "Dun," House said, stopping, "go with whoes with," he finished as he tinued walking, disappearing around a er.

  Turning to the two remaining doctors, I looked expetly. "Take the kid," Foreman said with exasperation as he walked away.

  "Well," Dr. Chase said, "get ready for one of the hardest parts of being a doctor," he said cryptically as he put his hand on my shoulder.

  This is the sed time I've heard that phrase today, but now I truly believe that it will be the hardest part of being a doctor.

  "If you feel unfortable during the versation, leave the room quietly. If you feel like g, don't do it in front of the family. Always maintain a serious, professional demeanor," Dr. Chase expined as we walked. "We won't be delivering news of a family member's death, but giving the diagnosis of a terminal illness is practically the same thing. You might feel like you have to say something, but don't. You'll remain silent," Dr. Chase said in the most serious manner I've seen from him.

  Reag one of the hospital rooms, Dr. Chase kwice. "e in," we heard from ihe room.

  Dan, the patient, was with his parents, who looked relieved.

  "Dr. Chase, hello, e in," the man said cheerfully, allowing the doctor to enter.

  As Dr. Chase ehe family also noticed me in the doorway. "Young man," the maed, also allowio enter. He must remember me from how easily I was allowed to enter, and not just him because the woman and Dan also noticed me and greeted me cheerfully.

  "When Dan be discharged? He's feelier," the woman said hopefully from the side of her son.

  "I came to talk about that; we found something," Dr. Chase said seriously, causing the family to immediately ignore me, giving their full attention to the doctor.

  "What do you mean, you didn't remove the blockage?" the man asked, ed.

  "We did remove any blockage; the surgery was a plete success," Dr. Chase reassured him. "But we did some tests on Dan's cerebrospinal fluid, and what we found isn't good," Dr. Chase tinued seriously.

  "What is happening?" the desperate woman asked.

  "What's happening is that the blockages weren't the cause of Dan's problems; they were just a symptom. We've discovered clear markers for possible multiple sclerosis," Chase expined.

  "Multiple sclerosis?" Dan's father asked incredulously, looking at his son, who seemed shocked by the news as he was embraced by his mother.

  "It'll take months for a definitive diagnosis," Chase tried to reassure the family.

  "What'll happen to me?" Dan finally spoke from his bed.

  "Multiple sclerosis is an incredibly variable disease, if it is multiple sclerosis, and we're not 100% sure," Dr. Chase expined without really answering the young man's question.

  "What do you think is going to happen?" the father pressed for answers for his son.

  "There are some medications to mahe symptoms, but as the disease progresses, the problems will beore severe: bowel and bdder dysfun, loss of itive fun, pain," Dr. Chase said, trying to make it clear what could happen.

  "Is it going to hurt?" the father asked incredulously and with pain.

  "The brain's like a big jumble of wires," he said, trying to make the family uand. "Multiple sclerosis strips them of the insution, and the nerves die. The brain interprets it as pain, but by starting treatment, we're going to avoid that for as long as possible. We're looking into a couple of specialists, and until we get you squared away, you'll stay here. Okay?" he finished, addressing Dan, who ighe doctor and stared fixedly at his hands.

  "We'll leave you alone," Dr. Chase said as he left the room.

  I stayed in the room for a few seds, long enough to see the family huddled tightly with their son in the middle. I could hear the beginning of painful g before leaving quietly but silently, closing the door behind me.

  "That weer than I expected," Dr. Chase said with relief as he walked. "Some families obviously don't take this kind of news well. They might bme you for their loved one's illness or simply hate you for not being able to treat them," he tinued walking. "The best you hope for is this kind of rea. You o make it clear to both the families and the patients that you're doing everything in your power to help them," he finished, smiling at me.

  "I know it be tough seeing families suffering, but you don't have to let that drag you down. We do this job to help the people we help. I'm not saying you should pletely ighose you 't help; that's not healthy. Just learn to differentiate between the ones you save and the ones you 't," Chase said, putting his hand on my shoulder. After notig a flicted expression on my face, his smile faded.

  "If you o talk about this with someone, you talk to me or even Cameron. I doubt Foreman will offer any advice, but you always try," he tinued, removing his hand from my shoulder. His expression ged from calm to armed, as if he had remembered something. "I don't think I o tell you this, but don't try to discuss it with House. It's not worth wasting your breath trying to talk to him about this," he fiurning to walk again.

  In my past life, I had witnessed many people's deaths. Sometimes we didn't arrive quickly enough to do anything, or a patient died in the ambun the way to the hospital. Whenever family members were present, my partner would take the lead in dealing with them. It was never my responsibility, but I still wit. Delivering bad news was a pletely different feeling, much rawer, much more difficult.

  Watg someone grieve a loss is terrible, but taking away hope is even worse.

  Unsciously, I tio follow Dr. Chase down to House's office, where Dr. Cameron and Dr. Foreman were present.

  I entered quietly, ign the calm versation among the three doctors, to gather my things. When I had what I needed, I quickly said goodbye to the people present a without waiting for a response, heading to the reception area where I parted ways with my mom.

  As I walked, I couldn't stop thinking about Dan's ck of rea. He seemed lost in his mind as he stared at his palms. It was terrifying to think that a teenager, no older tha this moment, had to bear the hat he possibly had an incurable disease, ohat would slowly take away his autonomy, his body, his freedom.

  "PJ, are you okay?" my mom suddenly snapped me out of my thoughts. Unsciously, I had reached the reception area.

  Wiping away any expression that might have been on my face, I forced a smile and said, "Yes, mom, everything's fine, nothing to worry about."

  Mom seemed skeptical for a moment, studying my face with and shaking her head slightly. She seemed about to object, but whatever she wao say was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Nurse Florence.

  "Oh, Doctor Dun," the older nurse said pyfully, winking at me, "I heard from Fryday that you were with Dr. House on his ic shift. How was that?" she asked cheerfully.

  Grateful for the interruption to the awkward moment, I smiled at the opportune nurse. "It was an iing day. Many patients with colds, a mother who didn't want to vaate her baby, overall, I learned a lot today," I quickly replied.

  "I'm gd to hear that," she affirmed, nodding slightly. "Well, Amy, see you tomorrow," Dr. Florence said, lightly grabbing my mom's arm after cheg the wall clock. "Doctor Dun," she joked again before heading back the way she came.

  "Well, I've packed my things, PJ, so we go," Mom ented cheerfully, seemingly fetting our previous iion.

  With her bag in hand, Mom rejoined me, and we left the hospital together. Apparently unsatisfied with the brief summary I gave to Nurse Florence, she began asking me about each patient that House and I had seen during the day. "So, did House allow you to duct the exams?" she asked excitedly as she started the car.

  "Yes, he always reviewed afterward, but I usually started with the examination," I firmed with a slight smile.

  "When you enter medical school, you'll be the only one who has already worked with patients," she said excitedly. "You'll be popur," she added, even more excited than before.

  We tialking about Mom's day, and several mier, we arrived home.

  "Oh, PJ, get ready because we're having dinner with the Cee was discharged, and Mary invited us for dinner," Mom said as she noticed the Cooper house.

  "Sure," I nodded as I got out of the car.

  Entering the house, I found Bob watg TV from the living room couch, holding a beer. "PJ," he said excitedly as he quickly got up, "let's go to the garage; I've got something to show you," he tinued, moving faster than I'd ever seen him move since I arrived in this life.

  Following him through the house to the garage door, which Bob quickly opened, I entered behind him. "I got this at a great price, even though I expihat I had already taken care of the bugs, he wao get rid of this," Bob said, showing me a set of gym equipment: barbells, bars, weights, dumbbells, ropes, and even a pung bag were scattered and disanized in the garage.

  "Isn't it great?" Bob asked excitedly, showihe cluttered tools.

  "Yes, it's great, Dad," I said, leaving my backpack to the side. "We should a," I tinued as I approached to start moving the equipment.

  "Yeah, I was waiting to see how you wae it. After all, it's primarily yours," Bob said proudly, putting his hand on my shoulder.

  I could only say, "Thanks," to start anizing with Bob.

  After anizing all the equipment and hanging the pung bag from the garage ceiling, Bob had a proud look on his face as he pulled me into a one-armed hug, admiring our makeshift home gym.

  "After dinner, we'll work out. If Gabe wants to join us, he ," Bob said proudly.

  "We're having dinner with the Coopers tonight; Mr. Cooper was discharged today," I informed Bob.

  "Ah, all right. If we don't make it tonight, we start tomorrow after dinner," he said cheerfully, shaking me under his arm. "Well, great job, son," he said as he let go and walked bato the house.

  Following Bob after turning off the garage light and closing the door, I separated from him in the living room and walked to my room.

  In the hallway leading to my room, I came face to face with Teddy, who leasantly surprised to see me. "PJ, I'm gd you're here. e," she said, draggio her room to her desk.

  Taking a seat, Teddy opened her notebook to a math problem. "I 't solve it," she said, making a pitiful face.

  Amused by her sudden ge in behavior, I crouched down beside her and began to expin.

  Teddy was, to say the least, a genius in her ht. I had noticed it during our previous study sessions. She quickly absorbed the expnation of a problem like a sponge, and the ime she entered a simir one, she could solve it without any trouble. I enjoyed helping her with her homework; it helped me ect with her. Unlike Gabe, I couldn't get Teddy to py football with me, not that I hadn't invited her. So, helping her with homework was the natural way to spend time with my teenage sister.

  "I uand now!" she celebrated halfway through my expnation, grabbing the pencil and tinuing the problem where I left off.

  Surprised by the sudde of my pencil, I could only remain static, aside from a weak, resigned ugh. Teddy tio solve the problem, pletely absorbed.

  Notig my preseeddy frowned slightly. "I've got it; you go," she said calmly, indig for me to leave her room.

  Incredulous but amused by her attitude, I couldn't do anything but stand up and, with a weak ugh nation, start to leave her room.

  "PJ," Teddy suddenly said when I reached her door. "Yes?" I asked, turning my body, hoping she still needed my help with something.

  "Close the door when you leave," she said without turning, still focused oask.

  Defeated, I left her room, making sure to close the door behind me, and tinued on my way to my room.

  My room was pletely silent, which wasn't surprising since Gabe usually read his ics silently if he wasn't pying with his toys. Slowly opening the door, I found a very sweaty Gabe asleep in an unfortable position.

  Amused again by what was in front of me, I couldn't help but ugh silently. Leaving my backpay desk, I picked up the books and notebooks I o do my homework.

  A few minutes after I started, Gabe suddenly woke up.

  "Hey buddy, good m," I greeted him.

  Still disoriented, Gabe didn't respond immediately. With his eyes closed and a red mark on his face from his strange sleeping position, he slowly stretched his limbs, making slight noises of effort.

  "Hi PJ, when did you get here?" he asked when he finally noticed my preseer stretg for a moment.

  "A few minutes ago, little guy," I replied with a smile.

  Without saying anything, just nodding, Gabe got up from his bed and walked to the exit of our room, lightly knog on the door as he ope and walked out as if he were drunk.

  Shaking my head with a smile, I tinued with my homework, which, thanks to my memories and my dedicated study in this life, was quite easy to do.

  When Gabe returned from an obvious trip to the bathroom, more awake than before, my homework was almost done.

  "I think I slept since I got back from school; I was really tired," Gabe said, embarrassed, as he picked up a ic book from his bed.

  "It's because of the exercise, Gabe. In the beginning, you'll feel like you have less energy, but you'll get used to it," I said calmly as I tinued with my homework. "That's why you have to sleep early a well, so that the rest of the day after exerg, you'll have enough energy," I finished.

  "Did you also get tired at first?" Gabe asked.

  Notig a hint of in his voice, I turned my chair to face him. Gabe, from his bed, had a worried look on his face as he stared at me. I remembered what Bob had said: Gabe sees me as a role model.

  "Yes, gremlin, at first, I also got tired. If you keep running with me, there will e a time when this will just be a fun memory," I said with a reassuring smile, which seemed to work.

  Less worried by what his face revealed, Gabe tinued reading his ic book, and I, feeling more at ease after reassuring my brother, tinued with my homework.

  When I finished my homework, I decided to start reading the book that House had given me. As expected, it was not a more iihan Dr. Thomas's book. It was a text on viral iions. Taking notes as I read, I lost track of time.

  "PJ, Gabe," I heard Mom call from outside our room, snappi of my study trance.

  Rubbing my tired eyes a bit, I stretched befetting up.

  Gabe seemed intrigued. "Why do you think Mom's calling us?" he asked as he followed me, still groggy, before opening the door.

  "We're having dinner with the Coopers. Mr. Cooper came back today," I expined while tousling his hair.

  "Okay," he replied without much , tinuing to read his ic book.

  Mom was no longer wearing her nurse's uniform; she was dressed more casually, along with Bob, who was carrying a package of beers.

  We all left together, heading to the Cooper's house.

  Mom, who quickly led the way, knocked on the Cooper's door, which was immediately opened by Meemaw.

  "Ah, it's the Duns," she excimed ihe house, then turned back to us with a smile. "Amy," she said cheerfully, opening her arms, and Mom received the hug with joy.

  When Mom let go of Meemaw aered the house, Bob was o greet her. He simply smiled and said, "Mrs. Tucker."

  Shaking her head, "Oh no, Bob, you too. Call me ie," Meemaw said, tapping his arm lightly.

  "Now that we have here, the you Duns," Meemaw said, approag my siblings, "is it my imagination or are you even more beautiful than before?" she tinued, pulling Teddy into a hug. "And you, look at you, you're very handsome," she went on, ping Gabe's cheeks.

  "Thank you, Mrs. Tucker," Teddy said, embarrassed.

  "Oh no, not you either. You're part of the family now. Call me Meemaw, like your brother," Meemaw corrected Teddy cheerfully, addressing Gabe as well. "Well, what are you still doing here? e in, e in," she said after a moment.

  When my family ehe Cooper house, Meemaw and I stayed behind. "Aces," she said, greeting me, losing her friendly smile.

  "Hello, Meemaw," I replied, a bit nervous.

  Staring at me seriously for a moment, Meemaw finally rolled her eyes in resignation. "All right, I had already fiven you. After all, my car was in perfect dition," she said as she closed the door.

  Gettio release the air that I didn't know I was holding

  "In two weeks, I'm going to Las Vegas, Aces," she said as she stood by the door.

  It seemed Meemaw remembered I wao pce a bet. "I'll tell you how much I'm going to bet week," I quickly said.

  "All right," Meemaw said with resignation. "Well, e on, e on," she tinued, guidio the house.

  ---

  Glossary

  CSF* = Cerebrospinal fluid is a clear, colorless, watery fluid that flows in and around your brain and spinal cord.

  VEP* = Visual evoked potentials are used to assess the visual du pathways through the optierves and brain.

  Mald's criteria* = The Mald's criteria are a set of guidelines used to determine whether or not a person should be sidered as having multiple sclerosis, without the need for biopsies.

  Oligoal bands* = are bands of immunoglobulins that are seen when a patient's blood serum, or cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) is analyzed.

  Immunoglobulin G (IGG)* = This is the most on antibody.

  Multiple Sclerosis* =is a long-sting (ic) disease of the tral nervous system

  ---

  Author's Thoughts:

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

  Here ends what would be Chapter 14. As I mentioned before, I had to split the chapter in two.

  Another week goes by, and the goal is not reached again :C.

  In my notes for this story, I have already decided who the main couple will be. There is still some time before we get there, but if someone mao guess it, I'll give them a big prize (I won't expin again that there is absolutely no prize). Here are two clues:

  1. It is not from a medical, firefighter, or police series/movie.

  2. Their series/movie has not been introduced iory yet.

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

  Thanks for reading :D.