Dr. Robert Chase (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
trueaussiedoc) wrote2008-04-29 06:59 pm
trueaussiedoc) wrote2008-04-29 06:59 pm
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
the_bigshow: 2.13 "Like a Surgeon"
Like a surgeon, hey
Cuttin' for the very first time
Like a surgeon
Got your kidneys on my mind
Like a surgeon, ooh like a surgeon
When I reach inside
With my scalpel, and my forceps, and retractors
Oh oh, oh oh, woe, oh
- “Like a Surgeon” by Weird Al Yankovic
Chase was staring at himself in the bathroom mirror again. He looked as horrible as he felt. He still had a fever and when he wasn’t up during the night coughing, he was up puking at random and regular intervals. His resolute time of midnight, that he swore he would be better by, came and went. It was now seven am and he was due in an interview for the Head of the Surgical team in Cuddy’s office at nine am sharp.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous. He was now in a panic and more than sure his flu was just karma’s way of telling him going for this job was a bad idea. He should just call Cuddy and pull out; let the more qualified people have a shot and not waste the time of the interview panel. He splashed some more water on his face and rested his elbows on the edge of the sink, watching the water trickle down the plug hole.
If he pulled out now, he could damage his chances for moving up the ladder down the track. He also had to think of Rogue and the fact they were on the first steps of starting a new life together and maybe, down the track, a family. The Head of Surgical would not only be great money, but it would guarantee him a strong foundation for them to start their lives together on. Sure, the position would be a lot busier, stressful and demanding, but there would be less night shifts, more free weekends, and far more benefits in general. The sorts of benefits that a single, childless bloke generally wouldn’t need to worry about when on his own. But now…? Things were different now and Chase needed to consider that. Things like dental plans and family medical insurance mattered now… strangely enough.
But the practicality of it was throwing him. Was he really cut out for it? Could he really pull it off? Did he really want to be the one calling the shots when the likes of House wanted their patients in the OR, stat? Was he satisfied in his current position as just one of many surgeons on the team? Did he want to continue in surgical or did he want to look for something more suited to his specialty in Intensive Care?
The questions pooling around in his head alone were enough to swell the nausea in his already sick gut. He put a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes for a few moments, feeling sick and tired and wondering how the hell he was going to pull himself together in two very short hours with enough confidence and clarity to convince a panel of qualified Department Heads that he was the perfect choice for the position.
He’d been spoiled over the last few days being cared for by Rogue. He’d managed to mostly push the thoughts and nerves over the interview to the backburner and let himself be nursed through the flu by his very attentive girlfriend. It had been nice and he could almost pretend work was just a fantasy. But it was now Monday morning and work was not only a fallacy, but a stark, cold and clear reality. He had decisions to make and he had to make them in two hours. His flu-filled brain was telling him to call Cuddy, pull out of the interview and crawl back into bed with Rogue. His hard-working, ambitious and determined side was telling him to stop being a whiney wuss and suck it up. Disturbingly, that side of him sounded a lot like House.
He stood up and sucked in a slow breath through his nose. A double dose of Metoclopramide for the puking, Tylenol 3 for the headache and fever, and a whole lot of smooth talking should just about get him through the interview. Whether he wanted the job or not? Well, that would have to be a decision made if he came limping out of the interview in one piece.
- Rogue (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
justalilcontact) used with permission
Muse | Dr Robert Chase
Fandom | House, M.D.
Words | 681
Cuttin' for the very first time
Like a surgeon
Got your kidneys on my mind
Like a surgeon, ooh like a surgeon
When I reach inside
With my scalpel, and my forceps, and retractors
Oh oh, oh oh, woe, oh
- “Like a Surgeon” by Weird Al Yankovic
Chase was staring at himself in the bathroom mirror again. He looked as horrible as he felt. He still had a fever and when he wasn’t up during the night coughing, he was up puking at random and regular intervals. His resolute time of midnight, that he swore he would be better by, came and went. It was now seven am and he was due in an interview for the Head of the Surgical team in Cuddy’s office at nine am sharp.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this nervous. He was now in a panic and more than sure his flu was just karma’s way of telling him going for this job was a bad idea. He should just call Cuddy and pull out; let the more qualified people have a shot and not waste the time of the interview panel. He splashed some more water on his face and rested his elbows on the edge of the sink, watching the water trickle down the plug hole.
If he pulled out now, he could damage his chances for moving up the ladder down the track. He also had to think of Rogue and the fact they were on the first steps of starting a new life together and maybe, down the track, a family. The Head of Surgical would not only be great money, but it would guarantee him a strong foundation for them to start their lives together on. Sure, the position would be a lot busier, stressful and demanding, but there would be less night shifts, more free weekends, and far more benefits in general. The sorts of benefits that a single, childless bloke generally wouldn’t need to worry about when on his own. But now…? Things were different now and Chase needed to consider that. Things like dental plans and family medical insurance mattered now… strangely enough.
But the practicality of it was throwing him. Was he really cut out for it? Could he really pull it off? Did he really want to be the one calling the shots when the likes of House wanted their patients in the OR, stat? Was he satisfied in his current position as just one of many surgeons on the team? Did he want to continue in surgical or did he want to look for something more suited to his specialty in Intensive Care?
The questions pooling around in his head alone were enough to swell the nausea in his already sick gut. He put a hand over his mouth and closed his eyes for a few moments, feeling sick and tired and wondering how the hell he was going to pull himself together in two very short hours with enough confidence and clarity to convince a panel of qualified Department Heads that he was the perfect choice for the position.
He’d been spoiled over the last few days being cared for by Rogue. He’d managed to mostly push the thoughts and nerves over the interview to the backburner and let himself be nursed through the flu by his very attentive girlfriend. It had been nice and he could almost pretend work was just a fantasy. But it was now Monday morning and work was not only a fallacy, but a stark, cold and clear reality. He had decisions to make and he had to make them in two hours. His flu-filled brain was telling him to call Cuddy, pull out of the interview and crawl back into bed with Rogue. His hard-working, ambitious and determined side was telling him to stop being a whiney wuss and suck it up. Disturbingly, that side of him sounded a lot like House.
He stood up and sucked in a slow breath through his nose. A double dose of Metoclopramide for the puking, Tylenol 3 for the headache and fever, and a whole lot of smooth talking should just about get him through the interview. Whether he wanted the job or not? Well, that would have to be a decision made if he came limping out of the interview in one piece.
- Rogue (
justalilcontact) used with permissionMuse | Dr Robert Chase
Fandom | House, M.D.
Words | 681