Sitting in the patient room you shift somewhat anxiously, waiting for the doctor to come in to see you. The sterile, overly white and somewhat cluttered environment didn't help your nerves much either. The glass door abruptly opens and in walks a man limping on a cane, his other hand occupied by a clipboard, which he stares at without even glancing up at you yet.

"So, what do we have to work with? A cold that won't go away? Weird coloured runny nose?" He starts with a slightly sarcastic hilt, and you get the impression he's somewhat fed up with treating these minor things. House looks up at you finally with expectant, bored eyes.