Post by Lawrence Kutner on Apr 17, 2009 11:28:06 GMT -8
?This is the scent of dead skin on a linoleum floor.
This is the scent of a quarantine wing in a hospital.
It’s not so pleasant and it’s not so conventional.
It sure as hell ain’t normal,
But we deal, we deal.
An average hospital, with above-average doctors, why is it now the center of an investigation? The answer is complicated and doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, was attacked by terrorists, using a lethal disease as their weapon of choice. The initial attack killed fifteen doctors, nurses, patients, and innocent bystanders, but the death toll from the spreading of the virus, now called Influenza G, climbs higher each passing day. It starts out with a little cough, and a fever, then rapidly progresses to blood clots, hallucinations, and then the organs begin shutting down and your body gives up ten days later.
The anesthetic never set in and I’m wondering where
the apathy and urgency is that I thought I phoned in.
It’s not so pleasant, and it’s not so conventional,
It sure as hell ain’t normal,
But we deal, we deal.
At first, the CDC was baffled, the hospital a disaster. Not to mention, families ripped apart and medical teams dismembered. The whole quarantine wing the disease was blown to bits, spreading what they had contained of the seemingly small Influenza G. The hospital had to put together a make-shift wing in another part of the hospital, leaving the hospital with little space and doctors that were scared as hell.
You’re a regular decorated emergency.
The bruises and contusions will remind me what you did when you wake.
You’ve earned a place atop the ICU’s hall of fame.
The camera caught you causing a commotion on the gurney again.
So, who would take on this monster of a disease? Dr. Gregory House, a medical genius, to say the least, would. His team was already in shreds; Allison Cameron was killed in the blast. They needed more doctors, more ground covered. But being low on budget from repairs, the hospital ordered Eric Foreman to start his own team, to help find a cure for this killer. House is perplexed, speechless about something for once. Everything is different now; nothing will ever be the same.
The I.V. and your hospital bed.
This was no accident,
This was a therapeutic chain of events.
Everybody Lies.
Plot. Rules. Canons.
Lyrics to Camisado belong to Panic at the Disco, plot belongs L of Everybody Lies[/center][/font]