He couldn't think of anything but the pain in his leg.Even 5 years later,
in the middle of a case about a boy who had suddenly started coughing up
blood all over his Father's car.Why had he ever taken that bet with Cuddy
to stay of Vicodin for a week.He wasn't sure the feeling as if someone was
slowly shoving 3 inch long screws in his leg was worth a month off clinic
duty.The kid was slowly dying, and he was to distracted by his leg to
think about what it might be.He stared a at the weight on his desk.He made
his decision.He picked it up, and brought it crashing down on his hand.The
pain he felt was so terrible, he wanted to cry out. But before he could,
the endorphins got to work.His hand was reduced to a dull throbbing, and'
wait, there wasn't any pain in his leg!He was so happy, and then he shoved
a sock in that emotions throat.He walked down to his car, made a point of
walking to his car, and then went to the Clinic.He told Wilson "I slammed
my car door on it" when he asked about how he'd broken his fingers.Wilson
called his bluff.He walked out of the clinic, bashing his hand on the door
along the way, because the endorphins were starting to wear off.