#house's chronic pain

[scintillatingshortgirl19]

gee i wonder if the issue could be at all related to the fact that the current treatment plan for his chronic pain consists solely of FUCKING IBUPROFEN

[chronicpaingirlie]

btw something im working on learning is that disabled is something that im allowed to be in public.

im allowed to lay down on the living room floor if im in middle of a conversation & enjoying it but feeling too lightheaded to sit up. im allowed to sit at the table to do meal prep and to sit on a stool at the stove to cook. im allowed to use my cane while i run errands.

if people are uncomfortable with my disabled existence, it’s their responsibility to work on that, it’s not my responsibility to try to hide my disability from the view of abled people.

i shouldn’t be relegated to my bedroom or to my house or to places where no one else will be just to have accommodations. im allowed to just exist & not have to pretend to be able bodied for the comfort & convenience of others.

[midnight-soulless-system]

Sometimes being disabled means you can't go to college, can't get a job, have to live with your parents and that's ok. For a lot of us it means not being able to go outside most days, not being able to get up or move at all. It can mean needing someone to wash us or feed us or help us with the bathroom and that is ok. It doesn't mean that we're less than or that we aren't worth anything.

And it's valid for us to be mad about it. Even if we can overcome some of these things with accomodations we're allowed to be mad that we're in this situation, and wish that we weren't disabled because I sure as hell hate this shit.

[fernthefanciful]

Please please please I am BEGGING y'all

When you visit someone who is chronically ill or disabled and their house is not as clean or tidy as you'd like: just don't say anything

We *know* okay.

Trust me, we know

We'd love to see it differently too. But the truth is we *can't*. And you know this, you do!

So please. Just shut up. Don't pile on more guilt and feelings of inadequacy. We have enough of our own

[pincushionx]

Hunter with a service dog!

[notllorstel]

Bell aka Warrior against chronic pain.

^^^this inspired this vvvv

*pov you have a migraine*

Bonus new doodle addition when finally finished

[fawnaura]

Christina Marie Brown, Ghost I, from My Body is a Haunted House

[talkethtothehandeth]

house parallels of interactions with my abled friends

House, juggling mediocrely: Check it out, I learned how to juggle.

Wilson, pretending to be impressed at first: Wow, you really are a circus freak.

—

House: I should get an electric wheelchair too, gotta be able to run away from the coppers.

Wilson, biting back a grin: “Run.”

—

House, testing out a new cane in the store’s aisle: I think this one is good, the handle’s better on this one than the black one.

Wilson, gesturing down the aisle: Alright, take it for a run.

—

House, in pain and struggling to walk or speak without grimacing: I could just die right here, actually.

Wilson, even with carrying an underlying fear of House collapsing, responded monotonously: That would be embarrassing for you.

—

House in a wheelchair, trying to get through a crowd: Excuse me, cripple coming through!

Wilson would walking directly behind him with a smirk and feigned disapproval, hoping he wouldn’t hit anyone— intentionally or not.

—

House: I almost died.

Wilson: Oh, yeah, let’s just make it about you. Again.

—

Wilson: We should capitalize off of your disability somehow.

House: Okay, PT Barnum.

—

Wilson, cutting the engine of his car while in a disabled parking spot and pulling out House’s disability parking placard: I’m only in this—” he gestured between the both of them, “for the close parking spaces, you know.

House, responding sardonically with an eye roll: Yeah, and for my deeply coveted government funds.

[privatehousesanatomy]

yk people don't talk about this ever and it lowkey pisses me off. that episode where house used a wheelchair for a week just to secure his parking spot - why did he ever have to fight for his parking spot? why couldn't the hospital have made two disabled spots by the doors? there should have never have been a fight for the parking spot. and this might be a hot take but house absolutely deserved the spot closest to the door anyway. a wheelchair hits a patch of ice and i feel like it's just gonna slide a little bit (maybe idk im not a wheelchair user). house hits a patch of ice and he's gonna hit the ground. i feel like walking with an already damaged leg is a little more risky than sitting down in a wheelchair (again, this isnt meant to be anything mean i just truly would love a wheelchair users input pls ). this is coming from the perspective of me, who while dealing with RA, am terrified of falling because i need help getting off of the ground. i will rarely leave my house this winter unless the front step is covered in salt.

[audiovideodisco]

One for me, two for you.

Where you are a doctor in House’s diagnostic team in the early seasons, and

are having a bad pain day.

CW: drug use/ opioids/ chronic pain and conditions/ self medicating (if you squint)/ could this be angst? i have no idea/ mild suggestive joke/ cancer talk & medical jargon

word count: 921

requested?: no

sfw?: yes

ship: n/a

characteristics: n/a

You trudge into Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital with a face that would make anyone with a brain run for the hills.

It had been a rough night for you. The pain in your body being worse than usual, and your meds weren’t helping, so you barely slept.

You suppress your winces and ignore the pain as you usually do, hiding it from others, but that doesn’t stop it from making you radiate an energy that makes everyone around you know you were not to be messed with. You normally radiated this energy anyway, but not just due to pain, also due to your ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude you had developed over the years.

You walk into the DDX office, dumping your stuff down next to you and putting your extraordinarily caffeinated drink down on the table a little harder than you’d like. Cameron, Chase and Foreman glance between themselves, Cameron going to ask something, when House opens the door connecting his office to the DDX office. He walks in with his three point tap bouncing unpleasantly around your head. You feel his eyes analysing you as he walks to the other end of the table, but hide your surprise when he doesn’t say anything.

“Wilson’s got a cancer patient in remission with all her symptoms back. But no cancer. I’ve already considered the fact that he could have been an idiot and missed it, but she’s definitely cancer free. Differential Diagnosis for hair loss, stomach pain, low white count and vomiting that’s not cancer. Go.”

The other doctors look at each other again before offering suggestions.

“Alcohol withdrawals?” Chase says, as Foreman immediately shuts him down,

“No, doesn’t explain the hair loss or low white count.”

“That- and the facts she’s 14.” House says with a smug look on his face, causing you to scowl at him a bit. He catches it, but ignores it.

Cameron rolls her eyes,

“How about Pancreatitis?”

You pipe up before House can make another shitty comment, your voice sharp,

“No fever. It’s late onset radiation side effects.”

House’s eyes squint as he considers what you said, then you see his look change to one with a flicker of something you couldn’t place. Was he impressed? Nah, probably just scheming again.

“Go, Foreman and Chase go talk to Wilson to see when her last radiation was and the details. Cameron, get a better medical history.” House says, turning to go back to his office.

“What about me?” You ask, unable to hide the confusion in your face, brows furrowed slightly.

“You should be following me. Thought that was obvious.”

“If it was obvious, I wouldn’t have asked.”

The other three fellows walk out the DDX office slowly, worried looks on their features as they have a silent conversation with looks between them. They disperse as you go into House’s office, leaving you standing by the door, looking at your boss who was sat at his desk, throwing his giant tennis ball between his hands.

“Sit. Or are you a masochist? Didn’t take you for someone that’s-“

“What the hell is this, House?” you stop him, biting back with much less effort to keep your words palatable.

House raises an eyebrow and stops throwing the ball around, turning to sit forward and lean his elbows on the table. He looks at you, pondering for a minute, and then gestures at the chair, which you sit in after a moment. He considers you again, watching as your brow furrows a little tighter as he does, holding up the facade so well. House was almost impressed, it’s a shame I can see right through that mask you’re putting up, he thought to himself. He pulls his vicodin from his pocket, pouring two into his palm, and you watch him, expecting him to swallow them dry in front of you, but instead, he holds them out to you. You look at the pills in his hand, and then at him, and back again.

“Take them.” He says, his voice a little softer than usual, but not much.

“What- why are you giving me-?”

“You’re having a bad pain day. Probably the worst one you’ve had in a while.”

“How do you even-“ You knew you were more irritable today, which you cursed yourself for not being able to mask, but you hadn’t told anyone about your pain, let alone that it was chronic.

“Pain recognises pain. The vicodin will help.”

You take the pills tentatively, swallowing them with your drink.

“Uh… thanks… I-“ You start, not knowing what to say, but he cuts you off,

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone- I mean, I have discussed it with Wilson, he helped me figure out that you were in pain in the first place. He pays more attention.” You smile a little, nodding.

“Don’t suffer unnecessarily. I might be an ass, but I know what it’s like, being in pain all the time. I’m not a talker, but I am a drinker; if you want to forget or just- look, you can come to me anytime. Less lonely that way.” House mumble out, his last sentence being almost inaudible.

You nod and he passes you a piece of paper. It’s a scrip for vicodin.

“Go take blood from our patient. Want to make sure nothing has been missed in her blood.” You do as you’re asked, walking out his office and shoving the scrip in your pocket, feeling a little better as the vicodin begins to work, and a little less alone.

[babygirlificationn]

"I'll kill you. When the time comes, if you want me to."

House finding Thirteen after Wilsons death and fulfilling his promise to her post canon is a common headcanon and for good reasons.. I feel like ive wanted to draw something with these two for a while now but never had the chance.

Gift for @morehousebites !!!! Hope you like it even a little bit <3 Prompt: Gregory House & Remy Hadley, Chronic illness.

@housemdanniversary huge thanks for organising all of this <3 happy twenty years of house md ! 🐁

Bonus (silly) under the cut.

Foreman transmasc and pregnant...

Loosely based on the prompt: "pregnancy (I'm autistic and it's a special interest of mine, not in a sexual way it's just genuinely fascinating to me), also if it involves Chase or Foreman- I headcannon both as transmasc individuals!" the disclaimer made me giggle lol. Also tbh i just wanted to draw my man Foreman.

[blueeyedcitadel]

Okay, but can I just say what I'll never get over? The fact that House didn't take the last few pills of Vicodin he had left because he wanted to give them to Wilson. Although Wilson was probably going to throw them up, anyway. Although it meant that he himself would be in pain, the very thing we've seen House trying to avoid the whole show. Because, at this point, House didn't care if he would be in pain anymore; he just didn't want to see Wilson in pain. Because seeing Wilson's pain would probably hurt more than his own pain...

And then they have this conversation:

"I should have spent my life being more like you. Should have been a manipulative, self-centered, narcissistic ass, who brought misery to everything and everyone in his life."

"You'd still have cancer."

"Yeah! But at least I'd feel like I deserved it."

And House knows Wilson is lashing out because of the pain he's in. Hell, he knows he's pretty much the same when in pain. And he is in pain, he's gripping his leg when he walks, because he didn't take the Vicodin. Yet, he just sits on the floor next to Wilson, looking completely lost, as if the ultimate irony of life has started dawning on him just now.

And it really breaks my heart...

[yamimichi]

Ya know, I can understand that some people who are disabled want to keep working. They don't want to apply for SSI or SSDI. And that's fine. More power to them.

What bothers me though is when they say things like "I don't want to live off the system" in a very derogatory manner.

Some of us can't work. And SSI and SSDI don't really give us enough to live on. So we need food stamps. Some of us rely on subsidized housing. We struggle to get through each month. And we don't need people being derogatory to us because of our disabilities. We don't need people acting like we're "less than" because of our disabilities. And we especially don't need this coming from other disabled people.

[blue-genes]

Been feeling like this as of late

[42-because-why-not]

The night before doctors appointments I like to put my medication and patient history out for Dr. House to come and hopefully give me a diagnosis since I’ve been a good little patient

[zedortoo]

When his propeller hat isn't cutting it and he needs to move around without pain, Mr Stick has his fair share of mobility aids which probably aren't legal.