As soon as she had cleaned up and pulled herself together, Cuddy went straight to the lab. She had saved one of the napkins with Megan’s blood on it in a baggie. She gave it to the night lab tech and told him to make sure and rush the results. She was almost one hundred percent sure that Megan was truly her and House's daughter, but it wouldn't hurt to have confirmation and proof.
When she was done there, she headed up to House’s floor to see how things were going.
As she got close to his office she could see him sitting on the edge of his desk. He was looking at films on the lighted board, with his cane propped behind his head and his arms resting on it. When she opened the door he turned his head and took the cane down. When he saw it was her, he lifted his cane and pounded the end on the films.
“Polyps.” he said.
“So she was right.” alisema Cuddy.
“Yeah.” alisema House.
“How is she?” asked Cuddy.
House just shrugged and said, “Got the lackeys on it.”
The door opened and Taulb and Kutner came in.
“Ears burning?” asked House.
“What?” asked Kutner.
“Nothing, where’s Thirteen?” asked House.
“She’s stitching up Megan’s hand.” alisema Kutner.
“How is she?” asked Cuddy.
“The bleeding has slowed and we packed her nose. Foreman is scheduling her for surgery in the morning.” alisema Taulb.
“Right, go on, get back to your boogie nights.” alisema House. (Little chapter 3 reference there!)
“Really?” asked Taulb.
"What?" asked Kutner, again.
“Just, go, get out of here.” alisema House.
After they left, House got off his dawati and sat down in his chair.
“Are wewe going to go see her?” asked Cuddy.
“Why?” asked House.
“Well, she’s your friend for one.” alisema Cuddy.
“She’s not a friend, she’s just a girl I sometimes spend time with, at a club I hapen to frequently go to.” alisema House.
“Oh, well in that case.” alisema Cuddy sarcastically.
“If you’re so worried about her, why don’t wewe go and see her?” asked House.
“Fine, I will.” alisema Cuddy.
She turned to leave and walked a few steps before stopping at the door.
“Room 313.” alisema House, knowing what she was going to ask.
Cuddy left his office huffily, wondering how he could change his demeanor so quickly, and walked down the hall to room 313. She stood outside the door for a moment, taking a deep breath before going in. She opened the door and found Thirteen sitting on a kinyesi inayofuata to the bed, stitching up Megan’s hand.
“How’s it going?” asked Cuddy.
“Good, I’m just finishing up.” alisema Thirteen.
“I know, it’s so sad.” alisema Megan.
“I’ll finish up, wewe go back to the party.” alisema Cuddy, coming over.
“Are wewe sure, House isn’t going to make us look up every possible diagnosis?” asked Thirteen.
“No, Taulb and Kutner are already downstairs.” alisema Cuddy.
“Wow, ok, thanks.” alisema Thirteen.
She stood up and took off her kanzu, gown and gloves, throwing them in the waste.
As she was leaving Megan said, “Don’t be a stranger.”
Thirteen stopped and turned around as she held the door open.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” she said, smiling a bit.
“Good, remind me to give wewe my number, since I already know yours.” alisema Megan, smiling at her.
Thirteen just smiled and left as Cuddy sat down on the kinyesi and began to bandage Megan’s hand. That’s when she noticed Megan’s wrist and the tattoo there. It wasn’t just a tattoo, it was a cover, hiding a long vertical scar there.
“Sorry about your dress. I’m guessing it has lovely patterns of blood to accompany the black lace.” alisema Megan.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” alisema Cuddy.
“I’m just glad it didn’t happen while I playing the piano. Think of the mess someone would have to clean up. All that blood in the keys.” alisema Megan.
“Right, of course that would have been much worse than if wewe were alone and had bled out.” alisema Cuddy.
“Well yeah, if I had bled all over a kinanda and was alone, who would be there to clean it up?” asked Megan.
Cuddy couldn’t help but smile at how that was so much like something House would say.
“Is there anyone I can for you?” asked Cuddy.
“No, just me.” alisema Megan.
As Cuddy finished putting the bandage on, she ran her finger over the scar on Megan’s wrist.
“Seven years.” alisema Megan, looking at her. Cuddy looked up and met Megan’s icy blue eyes.
“What?” she asked.
“You want to know what happened and when. It was seven years zamani today actually.” alisema Megan.
“Why?” asked Cuddy.
“Because, like I said, my birthdays have a way of going bad. Don’t get me wrong, not every single one, but a lot of them.” alisema Megan.
“Worse than this?” asked Cuddy, moving the suture tray and kinyesi aside and moving around to the chair.
“Yes.” alisema Megan. “Really? I wouldn’t think that things could get much worse than this on a birthday.” alisema Cuddy.
“They can, trust me.” alisema Megan.
“How much worse?” asked Cuddy.
She was hoping that Megan was just being an over dramatic twenty one mwaka old girl. Hoping she would say something like there had been an earthquake au a bad storm au something.
“People die, and it’s happened zaidi than once. The first time I was five, that’s when it all started. My first adoptive parents were taking me to my party at some kids place. A truck driver fell asleep and hit our car, my dad was decapitated and my mother’s femoral artery was severed, she bled out before anyone could get there. I had a mild concussion, and was put into foster care after that."
"The sekunde time I was nine, and had been with a nice couple for almost a year. They were planning on adopting me, but the siku before my birthday the woman found out that she had terminal pancreatic cancer. Exactly one mwaka and one siku later she died and the man decided that I was too much of a reminder after a month. He sent me back to foster care where I stayed for another two years."
"I was getting older, so I was lucky when an older couple with older children took me in. Again, after almost a year, they had a birthday party for me. They told me that siku that they had begun the adoption process, that they wanted me to be part of their family. I was so happy, and told all of my Marafiki at a sleepover party that one of them was having for me. That night, my new family’s nyumbani got broken into and they were all killed. The only one left alive was their oldest son who was at college."
"After that, people were afraid if I stayed too long something bad would happen to them. Not only that, but on my fourteenth birthday is when I was diagnosed with CVID. No one wanted to take me incase my ‘curse’ was real, I was older, and now I had an expensive medical condition. That’s the night I tried to kill myself, the night I realized that I wasn’t going to get a family. My foster father had gotten drunk and decided to beat up my foster mother. Then he figured that since it was my birthday I deserved a present. He gave me two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a black eye. Those were the worst ones so far, so this isn’t really that bad. Still, my sixteenth birthday wasn’t that bad, I was able to become emancipated.” alisema Megan.
Cuddy sat there with tears threatening to fall as she listened to her daughter tell her, matter-of-factly, this horrible story of what her life had been like.
All she could do was say, “I am so sorry.”, and wipe the tears from her eyes.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Nobody has anything to be sorry for, except the guy who murdered the Figs. Shit happens, wewe can’t control it, the only thing wewe can do is songesha on. Some days are just going to be bad, so wewe might as well make the best of the ones that aren’t so bad and hope for better ones. That’s what life is wewe know, a mountain bike trail, ups and downs. Sometimes wewe just want to quit, au go back, but wewe can’t do either. No one’s going to pick wewe up and carry wewe either way, so wewe just have to keep going. And hopefully kwa the end wewe feel good about what you’ve accomplished. wewe might be sweaty, dirt covered, and bleeding, but wewe know wewe made it.” alisema Megan.
It was quiet for a dakika as Cuddy and Megan stared at each other.
“God, I must sound like a total rehab whack job!” Megan said, finally breaking the awkward silence between them.
“Yeah, well…” alisema Cuddy, stopping when what Megan had just alisema actually registered.
“Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks I’m a nut. That would just be crazy, wouldn’t it?” Megan said, dryly.
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…” alisema Cuddy.
“I know what wewe meant, I’m just trying to have a little fun.” alisema Megan, laughing a bit.
“Right, of course. Well it’s getting late, and I’m exhausted.” alisema Cuddy, standing up.
“You know, I’ve been feeling a little drowsy myself. I think it could be those wonderful pills that smokin’ doctor gave me.” alisema Megan, starting to slur.
“I’m sure, wewe just get some rest.” alisema Cuddy.
“Yeah, ok, bye, bye.” alisema Megan, waving a bit and laughing.
Cuddy pulled the covers up a bit on Megan and then left the room, heading for home.
When she was done there, she headed up to House’s floor to see how things were going.
As she got close to his office she could see him sitting on the edge of his desk. He was looking at films on the lighted board, with his cane propped behind his head and his arms resting on it. When she opened the door he turned his head and took the cane down. When he saw it was her, he lifted his cane and pounded the end on the films.
“Polyps.” he said.
“So she was right.” alisema Cuddy.
“Yeah.” alisema House.
“How is she?” asked Cuddy.
House just shrugged and said, “Got the lackeys on it.”
The door opened and Taulb and Kutner came in.
“Ears burning?” asked House.
“What?” asked Kutner.
“Nothing, where’s Thirteen?” asked House.
“She’s stitching up Megan’s hand.” alisema Kutner.
“How is she?” asked Cuddy.
“The bleeding has slowed and we packed her nose. Foreman is scheduling her for surgery in the morning.” alisema Taulb.
“Right, go on, get back to your boogie nights.” alisema House. (Little chapter 3 reference there!)
“Really?” asked Taulb.
"What?" asked Kutner, again.
“Just, go, get out of here.” alisema House.
After they left, House got off his dawati and sat down in his chair.
“Are wewe going to go see her?” asked Cuddy.
“Why?” asked House.
“Well, she’s your friend for one.” alisema Cuddy.
“She’s not a friend, she’s just a girl I sometimes spend time with, at a club I hapen to frequently go to.” alisema House.
“Oh, well in that case.” alisema Cuddy sarcastically.
“If you’re so worried about her, why don’t wewe go and see her?” asked House.
“Fine, I will.” alisema Cuddy.
She turned to leave and walked a few steps before stopping at the door.
“Room 313.” alisema House, knowing what she was going to ask.
Cuddy left his office huffily, wondering how he could change his demeanor so quickly, and walked down the hall to room 313. She stood outside the door for a moment, taking a deep breath before going in. She opened the door and found Thirteen sitting on a kinyesi inayofuata to the bed, stitching up Megan’s hand.
“How’s it going?” asked Cuddy.
“Good, I’m just finishing up.” alisema Thirteen.
“I know, it’s so sad.” alisema Megan.
“I’ll finish up, wewe go back to the party.” alisema Cuddy, coming over.
“Are wewe sure, House isn’t going to make us look up every possible diagnosis?” asked Thirteen.
“No, Taulb and Kutner are already downstairs.” alisema Cuddy.
“Wow, ok, thanks.” alisema Thirteen.
She stood up and took off her kanzu, gown and gloves, throwing them in the waste.
As she was leaving Megan said, “Don’t be a stranger.”
Thirteen stopped and turned around as she held the door open.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” she said, smiling a bit.
“Good, remind me to give wewe my number, since I already know yours.” alisema Megan, smiling at her.
Thirteen just smiled and left as Cuddy sat down on the kinyesi and began to bandage Megan’s hand. That’s when she noticed Megan’s wrist and the tattoo there. It wasn’t just a tattoo, it was a cover, hiding a long vertical scar there.
“Sorry about your dress. I’m guessing it has lovely patterns of blood to accompany the black lace.” alisema Megan.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” alisema Cuddy.
“I’m just glad it didn’t happen while I playing the piano. Think of the mess someone would have to clean up. All that blood in the keys.” alisema Megan.
“Right, of course that would have been much worse than if wewe were alone and had bled out.” alisema Cuddy.
“Well yeah, if I had bled all over a kinanda and was alone, who would be there to clean it up?” asked Megan.
Cuddy couldn’t help but smile at how that was so much like something House would say.
“Is there anyone I can for you?” asked Cuddy.
“No, just me.” alisema Megan.
As Cuddy finished putting the bandage on, she ran her finger over the scar on Megan’s wrist.
“Seven years.” alisema Megan, looking at her. Cuddy looked up and met Megan’s icy blue eyes.
“What?” she asked.
“You want to know what happened and when. It was seven years zamani today actually.” alisema Megan.
“Why?” asked Cuddy.
“Because, like I said, my birthdays have a way of going bad. Don’t get me wrong, not every single one, but a lot of them.” alisema Megan.
“Worse than this?” asked Cuddy, moving the suture tray and kinyesi aside and moving around to the chair.
“Yes.” alisema Megan. “Really? I wouldn’t think that things could get much worse than this on a birthday.” alisema Cuddy.
“They can, trust me.” alisema Megan.
“How much worse?” asked Cuddy.
She was hoping that Megan was just being an over dramatic twenty one mwaka old girl. Hoping she would say something like there had been an earthquake au a bad storm au something.
“People die, and it’s happened zaidi than once. The first time I was five, that’s when it all started. My first adoptive parents were taking me to my party at some kids place. A truck driver fell asleep and hit our car, my dad was decapitated and my mother’s femoral artery was severed, she bled out before anyone could get there. I had a mild concussion, and was put into foster care after that."
"The sekunde time I was nine, and had been with a nice couple for almost a year. They were planning on adopting me, but the siku before my birthday the woman found out that she had terminal pancreatic cancer. Exactly one mwaka and one siku later she died and the man decided that I was too much of a reminder after a month. He sent me back to foster care where I stayed for another two years."
"I was getting older, so I was lucky when an older couple with older children took me in. Again, after almost a year, they had a birthday party for me. They told me that siku that they had begun the adoption process, that they wanted me to be part of their family. I was so happy, and told all of my Marafiki at a sleepover party that one of them was having for me. That night, my new family’s nyumbani got broken into and they were all killed. The only one left alive was their oldest son who was at college."
"After that, people were afraid if I stayed too long something bad would happen to them. Not only that, but on my fourteenth birthday is when I was diagnosed with CVID. No one wanted to take me incase my ‘curse’ was real, I was older, and now I had an expensive medical condition. That’s the night I tried to kill myself, the night I realized that I wasn’t going to get a family. My foster father had gotten drunk and decided to beat up my foster mother. Then he figured that since it was my birthday I deserved a present. He gave me two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a black eye. Those were the worst ones so far, so this isn’t really that bad. Still, my sixteenth birthday wasn’t that bad, I was able to become emancipated.” alisema Megan.
Cuddy sat there with tears threatening to fall as she listened to her daughter tell her, matter-of-factly, this horrible story of what her life had been like.
All she could do was say, “I am so sorry.”, and wipe the tears from her eyes.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Nobody has anything to be sorry for, except the guy who murdered the Figs. Shit happens, wewe can’t control it, the only thing wewe can do is songesha on. Some days are just going to be bad, so wewe might as well make the best of the ones that aren’t so bad and hope for better ones. That’s what life is wewe know, a mountain bike trail, ups and downs. Sometimes wewe just want to quit, au go back, but wewe can’t do either. No one’s going to pick wewe up and carry wewe either way, so wewe just have to keep going. And hopefully kwa the end wewe feel good about what you’ve accomplished. wewe might be sweaty, dirt covered, and bleeding, but wewe know wewe made it.” alisema Megan.
It was quiet for a dakika as Cuddy and Megan stared at each other.
“God, I must sound like a total rehab whack job!” Megan said, finally breaking the awkward silence between them.
“Yeah, well…” alisema Cuddy, stopping when what Megan had just alisema actually registered.
“Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks I’m a nut. That would just be crazy, wouldn’t it?” Megan said, dryly.
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…” alisema Cuddy.
“I know what wewe meant, I’m just trying to have a little fun.” alisema Megan, laughing a bit.
“Right, of course. Well it’s getting late, and I’m exhausted.” alisema Cuddy, standing up.
“You know, I’ve been feeling a little drowsy myself. I think it could be those wonderful pills that smokin’ doctor gave me.” alisema Megan, starting to slur.
“I’m sure, wewe just get some rest.” alisema Cuddy.
“Yeah, ok, bye, bye.” alisema Megan, waving a bit and laughing.
Cuddy pulled the covers up a bit on Megan and then left the room, heading for home.
When does upendo become something we need, rather than something we want? upendo was seen as something special a long time ago. Now upendo is what we are expected to have with us everyday of our lives. upendo is common currency when wewe are a teenager, but turns to worthless pennies the older wewe get. Do we not care about the substance of what upendo was and not what it has been made into today kwa commercialisation from American sinema and televisheni commercials and soap operas? Only when we experience upendo for real, can we maoni and judge others who are in Love. upendo means something different to everyone. Not two people’s feeling of upendo is the same. Why do we generalize, rationalize and compartmentalize Love? upendo is and will continue to be an enigma. Only a handful of people will ever unlock it and witness its true beauty and essence. The essence we all crave.
Love.
Love.