Ten are the number of stairs he falls down that leads to nine stitches, eight bruises, seven grazes, six carpet burns, five fractured fingers, four cracked ribs and three broken toes. Two are the number of items that had been carelessly left at the top of ten stairs – a satchel and a cane. One is the number of seriously annoyed oncologists.

One friend comes to see how he is, and laughs twice. Wilson snaps at him when he tries for a third. Four are the number of painkillers he takes before leaving the hospital at five am. The sixth taxi they flag stops for them. House says sorry seven times and Wilson responds with eight swear words. When they get home, Wilson can’t escape the apologetic kisses and concedes forgiveness on the ninth. And ten are the number of stairs they stagger back up.