Upon hearing Elion's statement, even Chase—who until that moment had tried to soften Foreman's cold attitude toward the intern—furrowed his brow in irritation.
Elion's words were more serious than they appeared.
The tests they were analyzing had been ordered by a veteran, experienced physician.
Claiming that everyone was looking in the wrong direction was not only disrespectful toward James Wilson, but toward them as well… and even toward House, who had not yet determined the direction of the investigation.
"Wait a moment," Foreman said, wearing a smile laced with mockery as he asked, "Are you suggesting that we shouldn't start with a brain scan to evaluate the patient's neurological status? The symptoms clearly point to a cerebral pathology, and the tests support that right now."
"We might consider something like that if House said it," Chase added, crossing his arms and speaking somewhat sharply. "But coming from you, it sounds more like you're trying to get attention."
Elion did not make any rushed comments. He knew how his words sounded and understood his superiors' reactions.
"To make such a confident statement, you first need to properly observe and study the symptoms," Cameron said in a gentler tone, advising him. "The ideal next step is an MRI. That will tell us who's right."
"I'm not arrogant or pretentious, and I'm not interested in calling attention to myself," Elion said. He knew he sounded arrogant. He knew he seemed reckless. But he was also certain he was right—because he knew exactly what disease the patient had.
Even so, confronting three residents made no sense. So he shifted his gaze toward House, the only person in the room who could truly decide.
House leaned his weight on his cane and looked at him with interest.
"Since you're so sure that we're not sure where to start looking, tell me then—what part of the patient's body do you want us to examine?"
Elion formed a faint smile. He couldn't just throw conclusions into the air; that would only reinforce the idea that he was an impulsive intern.
He thought for a second before responding.
"I didn't say the MRI was a mistake," Elion clarified, correcting his superiors' misunderstanding. "I said you haven't found the correct location of the problem—because it isn't there."
After saying that, Elion pointed at the board and continued, "With brain imaging, any doctor can confirm whether there's a tumor. If that were the case, she wouldn't be here. She also wouldn't need our hospital for an aneurysm, a stroke, or a common ischemic syndrome."
The room fell silent. What Elion said made sense. If it wasn't a brain tumor, then any diagnosis they were giving right now could be made by any other doctor—they didn't need their expertise for that.
"So if she ended up here," Elion looked at his superiors and said, "it must be something atypical. Systemic inflammation, a parasitic infection like cysticercosis… something that isn't limited to just the brain. To know which of these diseases our patient has, we only need more evidence."
"Therefore, I think what we need is a full-body CT scan. Not just of the brain."
When he finished, Elion picked up the coffee on the table and returned to his seat.
For a brief moment, he thought that after all that, they might look at him with a bit of respect.
They didn't.
Because he was still just an intern.
Foreman immediately shook his head and asked, "A full-body CT scan? Do you have any idea how much that costs? We don't order something like that unless it's absolutely necessary."
"Foreman is right. If the patient complains about excessive charges, your career could end before it even begins. Consider that advice from someone with more experience."
Chase, a bit calmer, added, "What you said shows that you know quite a bit, but it doesn't contribute much to the current diagnosis."
Cameron said nothing. In truth, what Elion had said made a certain amount of sense.
"Thank you…" This time, Elion simply waited for House to make a decision.
House, to everyone's surprise, didn't mock him. He thought for a few seconds before speaking. "An inference is still just an inference… We won't rule out a full-body CT scan… but first we'll confirm that there's nothing in the brain."
With that, the discussion ended.
The three residents began coordinating the MRI with radiology.
Before leaving, House stopped at the door and looked back. "Oh, and don't sideline the intern. He needs hands-on experience. Besides… he's quite perceptive. I like him."
After saying that, House limped away toward the clinic.
He still owed the hospital outpatient consultation hours.
Working hard was not optional.
Foreman looked at Elion and congratulated him, "Nice job kissing House's boots. You'll go far."
"That was too much," Chase said, shaking his head as he wrote down the most important details of the case.
"We'll see," Elion replied calmly. He himself didn't know why House valued him so much. But one thing he was sure of—soon, he would shine in everyone else's eyes.
…
Before long, the four of them gathered with the patient to take her to the MRI room.
"Before we continue, Dr. Whitmore here is wondering if you've suffered from any allergies before coming here," Foreman said, wanting to teach Elion a lesson. Elion simply walked behind the doctors, adapting to his new identity.
Everything had happened so fast that it still felt like a dream. But the intense headache was killing him, so everything told him he was more alive than dead.
"No, none."
"I knew it."
Chase shook his head and said, "Don't pressure the intern—this is his first day with us."
"I'm just doing what House assigned us to do—give him field experience," Foreman replied, smiling in a way that was unusual for him, as he walked beside the patient and asked a few more routine questions.
After entering the MRI room, everyone took their places.
When Foreman prepared the contrast agent, Elion frowned.
"What if she has an allergic reaction?" Elion asked, even though he knew exactly what was about to happen.
Foreman stopped and looked at him seriously. "This is what you need to learn: communication. We talked to the patient. She said she's never had allergies. That's enough—stop overcommitting to your diagnosis."
Hearing that, Elion understood why House insisted so much that patients lied.
Sometimes intentionally. Sometimes without knowing it.
And that information could be deadly.
Just as Foreman was about to inject the contrast into the patient, a nurse stopped them after receiving a call.
Elion took the opportunity to rest, recover a bit, and wait for House to resolve his issues with the hospital director.
While he waited, he drank something, went to the bathroom, and when he returned, everyone was already in the room.
"Where did you go?"
"I had an emergency, but it's taken care of," Elion said. He didn't want to say he went to the bathroom—at least not directly.
They all looked at him without saying a word and refocused on their work.
"Alright, here we go."
After injecting the contrast, the four of them moved to the observation room.
The scan began.
Rebecca was slowly slid into the machine. The metallic sound filled the room, and Elion, standing in the back observing, touched his neck. Memories of countless examinations flooded his mind, and he couldn't help but feel cold.
An unusual cold that paralyzed him for a few moments—and only then did he react when he heard the patient's voice.
"I feel a little unwell…" Rebecca said in a trembling voice.
"That's normal," Chase replied while looking at the computer screen. "Just hold on a bit longer, we're almost done."
Suddenly, a strange sound came through the speaker.
Cameron frowned as she noticed something. "Rebecca? Rebecca? Can you hear me?"
There was no response.
Elion reacted immediately and warned them, "We need to get her out now. She's having an allergic reaction. Laryngeal edema."
"Relax," Chase said, trying to keep the situation calm. "She probably just fell asleep."
"That's not possible—she was claustrophobic seconds ago."
Chase sighed and pressed the stop button. "We were one minute from finishing… but fine."
Foreman and Chase thought Elion had influenced Cameron in a bad way, but they followed him anyway.
There was no time to argue.
When Rebecca was pulled out of the machine, Elion leaned in to check her breathing.
"She's not breathing," Elion said firmly. "I need epinephrine. 0.5 mg. Do you agree?"
"This isn't an exam."
Cameron hesitated for a second… and then acted purely on instinct, handing him the syringe.
Elion injected it without a second thought and grabbed the manual resuscitator, preparing for the next steps before the residents did.
But it didn't work.