Chest pains. Nausea. Sweating. You weren't an idiot. Medical school had taught you to recognise a heart attack. You'd just never imagined having one at work, and especially not at your age.

At least the cardiology department was just down the hallway. A small mercy.

There hadn't been any hope of keeping this fromyour coworkers, you had known that from the beginning, but whatever molecule of optimism you may have had was dashed when the cardiologist banished you to a hospital bed and set you up with a reteplase IV. No running. No escape. Better yet, a nice little paper trail for the bossman to follow.

You may be the first patient House had visited all month.

"Little young for a heart attack, aren't you?"

He muses, limping to your bedside with a blank look.

"Stressful job? Boss giving you trouble?"