By Sara M
A man weighing over six hundred pounds comes to PPTH in a coma. Fatty-hater Chase doesn't see the point in treating the guy, but Everybody-lover Cameron comes to his defense and insists on getting him an MRI even though he exceeds the weight limit. Fat Guy George emerges from his coma mid-MRI and promptly freaks out and destroys the place. At this point, Chase says they should just a wait-and-see approach with George because he wants all fat people to die, and House tells him to go ahead and do nothing. So, hilariously, Chase leaves and isn't seen again for the rest of the episode. George demands to leave PPTH, saying he's more afraid of hospital-related infections and injuries than he is of whatever put him in the coma. Cameron basically slips him a mickey (!) to keep him there, earning her a one-way trip through one of PPTH's many windows. Sadly, she lands on top of George and not vice-versa, which would have been so amazing. George goes blind and refuses to let them test him for any obesity-related conditions, insisting that his condition isn't related to the fact that he weighs six hundred pounds, and in the end, he's right: he actually has terminal lung cancer. You win, George. But really, who cares about the patient when we've got House's legal problems to deal with? After being arrested last week, his apartment is searched and a butt-load of pills is found. Also found are forged prescriptions from Wilson's pad, putting Wilson in the position of having to lie for House, which should get both of them in lots of trouble.
First things first: shout-out to Skip Mueller, who brought Garrett Lerner and me together for the interview a few weeks back. Many, many thanks, Skip! And now, the recap.
Two firemen are going about their business with one telling the other a complicated story involving a Green Beret, a Navy SEAL, and some girl from Brooklyn who have to kill their spouses for some strange purely hypothetical military operation. Suddenly, a piece of wall comes flying down to them, thanks to their co-workers, who are as bored of this story as I am. We go inside the newly fourth wall-less apartment to find a six-hundred pound man dead in his bed and a team of firemen trying to figure out how to get him out of there. They make several jokes about the guy's weight and try to lift him, only to hear an incredibly loud fart. Is this a cartoon? My third grade class? The firemen play the blame game for a while (although no one goes so far as to say "whoever smelt it, dealt it") until they realize that the farter wasn't one of them, but the man they thought was dead. Our storyteller informs us that you need sphincter-muscle control in order to fart, so the man must be alive. The head fireman checks for a pulse and finds it. The fat guy is alive, although he'll probably die of embarrassment when he founds out about all this.
After the credits, the Cottages are going about their morning breakfast routines, while Cuddy gives them the lowdown on their newest patient: he's six hundred pounds and in a coma. The only thing that appears to be wrong with him is that he's tremendously fat. Chase, who hates fat people, assumes that they're looking at a diabetic with "blood thicker than pancake batter," but Cuddy says that is not the case. She would also like to know why House hasn't come to work yet.
It's because House' still in jail. His cellmate sings an annoying repetitive song, and House picks himself up off the floor, clutching his belt-less pants to keep them up (sorry, ladies!), and calls out to the jail guard to let him out already. Detective Asshole -- I mean "Tritter" -- walks in and smirks at House. House says that he can either arraign him or let him go. "Which do you prefer?" Tritter asks. I'm assuming he would prefer to be let go, but I'll leave the crack detective work to the "professional."
Cut to Wilson waiting outside the "Princeton Plainsboro Municipal Building." House comes outside and immediately puts a hand out for a bottle of pills. Wilson gives it to him and apologizes for taking a while to come up with the bail money and asks what the hell happened to House. House says that a cop had a grudge and trumped up a traffic stop, which is pretty much the truth. He doesn't plan to tell Cuddy about this and is assuming it's over now that Tritter has gotten his petty revenge. Wilson thinks House should get a lawyer.
Meanwhile, the Cottages are trying to do their job/guess where House is. Cameron is the most concerned, of course, wondering whether House got in a motorcycle accident. "Ever seen how he drives?" she asks. "No, we haven't," Chase spits back, obviously super-jealous that Cameron has gotten to ride House's motorcycle and he hasn't, no matter how many times he subtlely says he'd love to ride a motorcycle within House's earshot. Foreman suspects that House took too many pills and is in a coma somewhere. Of course, that's when House chooses to enter, saying that if he is in a coma, "this is one lame hallucination." Well, he would know. He limps into his office and grabs a change of clothes and tells them to go to "Shamu's" apartment building and talk to his neighbors. I have to imagine that the people with the misfortune of living below "Shamu" are feeling pretty relieved right now, now that the threat of death from above is gone. With that, House ends the meeting since he has "run out of clever things to call the guy." He chuckles to himself, as do we all.
Foreman and Chase attempt to run tests on their fleshy patient, George, being sure to talk about how disgustingly obese he is. Chase thinks it's "ridiculous" that someone can eat himself "into oblivion" and then expect people to work their asses off to save him. I think it's ridiculous that two doctors aren't even bothering to wait until they're out of a patient's earshot to make disparaging comments about their patient. You don't know what he can or can't hear in his coma. Foreman says that they can't just refuse treatment to fat people, but Chase points out that they don't give dialysis to drug addicts or liver transplants to alcoholics. Larry Hagman laughs long and hard at this. "What is your problem?" Foreman asks, apparently having forgotten Chase's stance on fat people.
Fat Patient George's landlord lets Cameron into his apartment, a welcome change from the breaking and entering the Cottages usually have to do. George's apartment is amazing ly neat for a guy who should be too heavy to get out of bed. Cameron is amazed at how similar George's apartment is to House's. The landlady says that George keeps to himself mostly and runs a business from home. Cameron admires George's gourmet kitchen, and the landlady says that George "loves to cook. And eat, obviously." Well, obviously. He makes four-course gourmet meals for dinner every night and occasionally for lunch as well. You know, it's not four-course gourmet meals that make you six hundred pounds -- it's the multiple pizzas. Honestly, I really doubt you can find a morbidly obese person who doesn't have a steady diet of fast food and Doritos. Four course gourmet meals certainly won't keep you slim and trim, but I doubt they'll make you as big as George, either. That kind of fat takes a special kind of dedication.
Cameron and the landlady go to George's bedroom for the more salacious discussion of George's occasional use of prostitutes. Uh oh -- George has had sex. On this show, not unlike a teen slasher film, sex = death. "There can't be many women who'd want to be with a guy like [George]," Landlady says. Cameron has a look on her face that suggests otherwise. Or maybe that's pity. Pity and desire tend to be one and the same with Cameron, so it's hard to tell.
After spending a night in jail because of his rude treatment of Clinic patients, House has learned absolutely nothing. His latest patient is especially stupid though, and complains that his arm hurts after he sleeps on it. And yet, he doesn't want to change his sleeping position. House suggests surgery to remove the arm. "Are you insane?" the patient asks. House just gives him an innocent "I'm not the one who insists on sleeping on his arm even though it hurts, you moron" look.
The patient angrily exits the exam room and brushes by Tritter, who apparently has nothing better to do with his time. Boy, I wish I had a job that let me freely pursue silly grudges instead of working. Maybe I'll try that here. Hey, Wing -- my recap's going to be late this week because some bitch cut me off in traffic and I have to track her down and publish her name and address on this site so I can abuse TWoP's resources to get petty revenge. You don't mind, do you? Anyway, Tritter says he was just stopping by to tell Cuddy that he arrested her employee last night. Oh, well, I guess that means House can go tell all of Tritter's co-workers that he went to a free clinic to treat a possible penis infection, right? Tritter chews some of nicotine gum while House downs some pills. It's the face-off of the vices! Tritter says that Cuddy was not aware of House's arrest, and that innocent people usually don't try to hide their arrest. "Is that based on your years of experience arresting innocent people?" House shoots back. You may be able to arrest the guy, Tritter, but you still can't outwit him. Ha! House tells Tritter to quit before he gets bumped down to security detail at the local strip mall. "I think working around a bunch of nurses has given you a false sense of your ability to intimidate," Tritter replies. With that, the blonde nurse sitting near them looks up. Thankfully, Tritter did not say this to Evil Nurse Brenda, or his dry penis problem would have been quickly replaced with a no penis problem.
Tritter leaves House looking a little rattled, and Foreman and Cameron walk in. Cameron asks who Tritter is, and House replies that Cuddy has widened her sperm donor search to include Neanderthals. I pick up on the fact that House pronounced the "th" in the word when it is actually, contrary to what you'd expect, pronounced with a hard "t" sound. Oh, the things you learn in the paleoanthropology class you're still not sure why you took. The Cottages pick up on House's little slip about Cuddy looking for sperm donors. Oops! House immediately says that he was kidding, but a stricken glance of "oops, my bad" flashes across his face for an instant.
About their comatose patient, Foreman says that they've ruled out Pickwick's syndrome and the steroid treatment has had no effect. In fact, George now has a fever. Cameron reports that House and George have "the same taste in home furnishings and women." So...Pier One and Frozen faces? No..."Danish modern and Russian gymnasts," House says. "Pianos and prostitutes," Cameron reports, and says that they should test George for neurosyphilis immediately because Cameron hates sex. How does Cameron know that House used a prostitute anyway? I mean, sure, he's mentioned it, but I would have always assumed he was kidding. She hangs out outside his house every night, doesn't she? House rejects this idea, saying that people only get STDs from people they trust and don't protect themselves from. When it comes to prostitutes, you're gonna triple-bag. And we all know that condoms are 100% effective, so there's no way you could get something from someone while wearing one. House insists that George's illness has something to do with his weight. He orders an MRI of his brain. Foreman points out that George exceeds the weight limit on the MRI and the CAT scan machines. House points out that they can either do an MRI or start George on a treatment that could be fatal if they're wrong about what he has.
The Cottages have managed to get George's gurney into the MRI room, but have no idea what to do . George obviously won't fit in the narrow tube. Cameron says that George's head is all they need to scan, so if they just get him on the table, they'll be able to slide that much in. Foreman says that the table will collapse under George's weight and cost PPTH a million dollars. Hopefully, PPTH has some kind of deal with the MRI companies, since they break them so often. Cameron wants to throw caution to the wind, saying that the four hundred and fifty pound weight limit is just an estimation. Chase says that George isn't a few pounds over the limit -- he's a hundred and fifty. "He still deserves the same standard of care as anyone else," Cameron insists. And I guess everyone else deserves not to get their MRIs since the machine is broken. "You believe the machine will stand on principle?" Foreman asks. It might -- that MRI has a mind of its own. That mind tends to be evil, though, so it will probably fold up and eat George like a Venus Fly Trap. Which would be awesome. Cameron hopes that the power of her self-righteousness will enable her to George onto the MRI table all by herself, but it doesn't.
So we cut to the Cottages and several nurses trying to lift George onto the MRI table. Evil Nurse Brenda speaks for them all and asks Cameron how much George weighs. "Four-forty," Cameron instantly says. Evil Nurse Brenda uses her mad carny "Guess the Weight" booth skillz and doubts this, but goes along with it anyway. They get George on the table and there's a tense moment while they all wait to see if it collapses. It groans, but stays upright.
House, meanwhile, is snoozing in his office. Cuddy comes in and hands him the number of "the best criminal attorney in Princeton." But what about Plainsboro? It doesn't matter, as House doesn't think he needs one. As far as he's concerned, he has a valid prescription for his Vicodin and everyone will back him up on that, so there's no problem. Cuddy says there obviously is, since everyone Tritter's asked has said that House has a valid prescription and yet, he's still going after House. Which would indicate to me that the person with a problem is Tritter, but I guess not. Cuddy points out that the legal system has been on an anti-pain doctor tear lately and might not be very sympathetic to House. She leaves, and House crumples up the paper and throws it towards his wastebasket. He misses.
The MRI of DOOOM! begins. The Cottages see nothing strange in George's brain and figure out what they should do . Cameron wants to do an LP, but Chase doesn't think they'll be able to do one on a guy George's size, because Chase has decided that being fat rules out all medical care options. This time, though, it seems that he's right. The fat gets in the way of whatever you need to do an accurate LP. Suddenly, George wakes up and throws a temper tantrum. Cameron gets on the mic and tells him he's in a hospital, but for some reason, a booming, disembodied voice does little to calm him down. Chase has trouble sliding George out of the tube, as the fact that George is fat makes it difficult for Chase to press the "eject" button on the keyboard. The MRI tray finally collapses under the weight and George pops out.
After the commercial, House and the Cottages are still trying to figure out what put George into that coma and got him out of it. Chase thinks George may have bumped his head and they just missed the swelling because George's head is already so swollen. Swollen with fat, that is. Cuddy marches in, all pissed off that House has broken yet another MRI. House takes the blame for it, but Cameron speaks up and says the MRI was her idea. She figured repairing the MRI would cost less than a court case over them refusing treatment to a guy for being fat. Since Cameron's talking money and lawyers, Cuddy listens. She does give Cameron an angry glare on her way out of the office, though. "Who knew that being bloated and bitchy could actually come in handy?" House asks, as we all know that women only stand up for what they believe in when they're riding the crimson wave. Also, Cameron is the least bloated person I've ever seen. "Shut up," Cameron says. "Maybe it's hormones," Foreman says. "It's not hormones!" Cameron snaps. Then she cries at a sad commercial and doubles over in pain while her uterine muscles contract and she really, really wants some Taco Bell. Foreman says that he was talking about their patient's hormones, not Cameron's. Maybe he has acute adrenal insufficiency, which could cause a temporary coma. It doesn't explain the fever, though. Cameron's still trying to find a connection to George's illness and his prostitutes, because sex is evil. And Chase doesn't think they should do anything at all; George's coma is over and he seems fine. Plus, he's totally fat and therefore not worthy of Chase's time and energy. House says they can do all of these things: Foreman will check for the adrenal stuff, Cameron will check for STDs, and Chase can just sit on his ass. Chase really got the winning end of that deal, I'd say. The losing end, of course, goes to Cameron, who will have to find a way to lift George's many skin folds in order to inspect his genitals.
Foreman checks George out for patches of hyperpigmentation, a sign of hormonal problems. George insists that his hormones are fine -- every doctor he's ever gone to has checked him for that first, followed by his blood pressure, and then his blood sugar. I'll bet no one checked him for STDs, though, so that should be a nice surprise. Foreman notices that George's eyeballs move from side-to-side of their own accord, which George says is nystagmus, something he's had since birth. I assumed it would have something to do with his mystery disease until I found out that the actor actually does have nystagmus, which helped make him so scary in that episode of The X-Files when he hid under Scully's car and stabbed her in the foot with a needle. Chase would like me to point out that these days, he'd only be able to fit under a Monster Truck. Because he's fat. Not like George really wants to acknowledge this, saying that he's totally fine now that he's out of that mystery coma and would like to leave PPTH, as he knows all about how frequent fatal hospital errors are (except at PPTH, where the fatal stuff is usually done on purpose) and he would be safer not in one. Dude, you were just IN A COMA. People thought you were dead until you farted. Come on now. Foreman says many more deaths are caused by obesity than hospital error. George says that those numbers are a "gross overestimation." Not sure about the overestimation part, but it's certainly gross. George says that he'd rather die of a heart attack after eating a delicious gourmet meal than after finishing a marathon "for no reason other than to brag [he] could do it." Hey, George, some people like to run just like you like to eat. Also, I have a feeling that a lot more people die of obesity-related heart attacks than marathon-related ones. In any case, as it turns out, you can both enjoy running and eating, do them both in moderation, and not die of a heart attack at all! Shut up, George.
House plops down to Wilson and wonders what fat person was in Cameron's life that made her so sympathetic to them. Why would she need to have a personal experience with someone to be sympathetic towards that condition? Cameron's sympathetic to EVERYONE, except, of course, cheating cyclists. Wilson doesn't really care and would much rather talk about House's legal troubles. House responds by stealing one of Wilson's cherry tomatoes and biting into it so that it squirts all over Wilson's white coat. "Very mature," Wilson says. I'll never figure out why those two are still friends, so I'll stop trying.
Foreman and Cameron report that their theories have born no fruit, so it's back to the drawing board. And George wants to leave. "Places to go, people to eat," House says. I see his fat joke drought didn't last long. Wilson points out that George's stubborn uncooperative streak reminds him of a guy he knows. "Maybe you outta check his leg," he says. House shoots him a withering glare and then laughs fakely. It does give House an idea, though.
House finds George chowing the hell down on his dinner. He makes the obligatory fat joke, which George says is very funny as fat people are the only people it's still politically correct to insult. Not so, House says -- we can also make fun of Christians and black people. Don't forget homosexuals and white people! Anyway, House says George must know what put him in that coma, or else he wouldn't want to leave the hospital without a diagnosis. Either that, or George just doesn't want to live anymore. George says he loves life just fine; he just doesn't want to be in a hospital. House makes a few guesses as to George's condition until George slams his hands down on his dinner tray and tells him to stop. He has no idea what's wrong with him, and if he did he would tell them. He's not stupid and he's not unhappy. "I'm just overweight," he says. Yeah, but he isn't. He's beyond morbidly obese. I believe they call people as big as him "super-obese." No one gets that way just because he likes food. Not this fat. This is a food addiction, and like any other addiction, there's a mental component. It's ridiculous to say otherwise and expect the audience to believe it. Anyway, House gets a phone call and has to leave the room.
House comes home to find his apartment ransacked. Standing in the hallway waiting for him is Detective Shitter, who hands House the search warrant and shows him the six hundred-plus Vicodins he's found in House's place. Dude, what judge gives you a search warrant for a guy you busted for speeding? I mean, what the hell. This is ridiculous. I want to reserve judgment because I think it's going to lead somewhere good, but it's getting difficult. Detective Shitter says the amount of Vicodin could prove an intent to traffic, which, good luck proving that. I have a lot of shoes. It doesn't mean I intend to sell them. If Shitter finds one bottle with the wrong name on it, House will be in big trouble. Until, that is, the search warrant is found to be completely unlawful and Shitter is fired for abusing his power. Shitter says that House is an "unprofessional, unethical, arrogant ass." And Shitter wastes taxpayer's money with trumped-up charges so I guess they're even. You know, if House had done something to Shitter to warrant this reaction, like dismiss his complaint at the Clinic only to find out that Shitter had a real problem with his penis that House overlooked in his arrogance, this wouldn't be so infuriating.
House returns to the hospital and orders Cameron to discharge George. Cameron thinks House is giving up because he's distracted by his legal problems. House is too distracted by his legal problems to listen to her and starts chewing Wilson out for talking to Shitter. Wilson says Shitter asked him if he prescribed House's pills and Wilson said he did, that's all. House says that Shitter searched his house and found a "buttload" of pills. Wilson loves it when House talks dirty. He doesn't love that House had a stash of pills, but House says that he had to save for a rainy day, like Wilson deciding to cut him off. Wilson says this isn't his fault, and House should really start talking to his lawyer.
Cameron helps George out of the hospital, telling him that there are Overeaters Anonymous groups he can join. Yeah, because George seems really into changing his ways. George insists that he loves food and it's not a problem. Of course, he keeps sliding off-camera as he says this because that director I hate is directing this episode so no one gets to stay in the frame for long, especially if they're saying something really important. I think Deran Sarafian should join an Overdirectors Anonymous group. George says that whatever happens, happens; "ultimately, it's all out of our control anyway." Yes, except for the part where we choose whether or not to eat appropriate portions of healthy food. George says he's a "complicated man," although I'd say he's about three complicated men. Oh, like everyone else gets to make a fat joke and I don't? Please. George insists on standing and walking out of the hospital under his own power despite Cameron's protests and hospital policy. He takes about ten steps before collapsing through a plate glass window. For some reason, Cameron is holding onto George, so she gets to take a ride through the window with him. Maybe she thought the plate glass window would stay together on principle.
When we come back, Cameron is nursing some glass wounds and Chase is nowhere to be found, nor has he been around since House told him he didn't have to do anything. Hey, he's just following orders. We won't see him for the rest of this episode, either, which is pretty funny, although probably not so much to people who like Chase and are now deprived of the chance to see him sit in the background and make facial expressions. Foreman and House start thinking of diagnoses that incorporate George's newest symptom, so Cameron has to admit that George's collapse had nothing to do with his illness and everything to do with the three grams of phenytoin she slipped him. Foreman and House stare at her, their jaws slack. Shitter should be searching her apartment any second now, since doctors who prescribe things for the wrong reason are his pet peeve. Cameron justifies her behavior by saying that she couldn't just let him leave. She didn't think he was going to stand to a glass wall when he got dizzy, even though PPTH is 90% glass walls so the chances were pretty good. I just can't believe someone who's so into doing the right thing that she'd break an MRI machine to give a patient proper treatment would then turn around and slip him a mickey. Damn.
House moves on, pointing out that George skipped breakfast this morning, which is obviously unusual for him. They can add "loss of appetite" to their list to symptoms, unless, of course, Cameron did a gastric bypass surgery when no one was looking. House says they could be looking at a food parasite that George would be more apt to get because of the large amount of food he eats. They'll need to test George's cerebral spinal fluid, but, as Foreman points out, they can't do an LP. House says they'll have to go straight to the source, then.
Cameron tells George their theory about parasites and having to drill a hole in his brain to get his spinal fluid. George doesn't really like the idea, especially since the theory is related to his food consumption habits, but he agrees.
Foreman drills into George's head. Suddenly, George loses his vision. He freaks out much like he did in the MRI tube. I know he's upset and scared about going blind and all, but I'm thinking that the time to thrash around and have a fit is NOT when there are needles in your brain.
Back from commercial, Foreman says that George's blindness had nothing to do with the surgical procedure, as he was nowhere near George's visual cortex. Cameron says that spinal fluid tested negative for any parasites. House says there must be a brain tumor, then, and goes to leave. Cameron asks him where's he going while his patient is in danger. "To get a four hundred dollar butt plug," House says. Nonsense! You can get a butt plug for much cheaper than -- oh, he was kidding. Nevermind.
The Cottages follow him out. Cameron and Foreman wonder if George has MS, which could be causing his "excessive cheerfulness" in the face of incredible obesity. House thinks blindness + coma = diabetes, even though every single test they've done for it has been normal. House tells them to test him again and throw in a glucose test.
George, predictably, does not appreciate being tested for diabetes over and over again just because he's fat. Oh, and his symptoms are consistent with it. And obesity can cause diabetes. So it's really pretty reasonable to keep checking him for diabetes but whatever. Anyway, George is very angry that he's blind now and thinks this is entirely PPTH's fault. He will not drink the sugar water Cameron gives him for the glucose test, smacking it out of her hands. She pours another cup and he smacks that out of her hand as well. "I've been fat all my life," he says; "I've only been sick for the past few days. You look for a disease that has nothing to do with my size and I will help you." And I know the point he's trying to make here, but I doubt he came out of the womb super-obese, and being gigantically fat tends to have a cumulative effect on your health. You want to enjoy the hell out of food, fine, but don't also expect nothing bad to happen to you because of it. You can't have your deliciously rich four-layer chocolate cake and eat it, too.
House's four hundred dollar butt plug is his new lawyer, Dwayne Wayne from A Different World! He runs through the list of charges House is facing and tells him to take this seriously. House says that this is all because Shitter has a problem with him and is insane, but Dwayne Wayne chooses to ignore this for whatever reason (I would have been all over this case if I was House's lawyer, filing false arrests lawsuits by the dozen) and says that House won't do well in front of a jury so he should agree to a plea bargain. House won't do it because he hasn't done anything wrong except for the speeding. Dwayne Wayne says he costs four hundred and fifty dollars an hour with a five thousand dollar retainer and then another thirty thousand dollars due if they go to trial. Damn. I hope the Princeton Plainsboro police department will pay House's court costs if he's found not guilty.
House returns to the office. Cameron says that she looked up butt plug in a legal dictionary and found it stood for "lawyer." Well, that and the mini-camera she planted on House so she'd see his every movement. She asks how the meeting went. House says everything will be fine. Foreman says his MS test came back negative while Cameron's glucose test came back in her face every time she tried to administer it.
House rolls his eyes so hard he almost gives himself nystagmus and marches off to George's room. He informs George that he's eating himself "half to death." This is followed by several fat jokes as House tries to force George to drink the sugar water. George insists that he isn't diabetic, but House just asks if grocery stores give away free medical degrees along with those free turkeys. Oh, it's not that simple. You have to buy one turkey first to get the free one. House starts assaulting George with the sugar water bottle, so George calls for help from his nurse. Evil Nurse Brenda rushes in, ready to attack. "What the hell is going on?!" she demands, putting a hand on the gun she keeps concealed in the small of her back. But House suddenly stops the assault and stares at George's fingers. He grabs his cane and walks out of the room. The Cottages follow. Evil Nurse Brenda is stuck cleaning sugar water off of a six hundred pound man.
In the hall, House orders the Cottages to perform various tests on George to find lung cancer. Since it's not connected to obesity, George should agree to their tests. Why lung cancer? Well, when George grabbed House's hand, he felt his bony fingers. Clubbed fingers are a sign of lung cancer, among various other nasty diseases. Small cell lung cancer isn't really one of them, according to this, but who cares?
The tests are run. Even Wilson gets to actually be an oncologist and do some work on George. But it's Cameron who gets to give George the results. There's good news and there's bad news. The good news is, George was right that his illness was not caused by his obesity. The bad news is he has small-cell lung carcinoma. It caused paraneoplastic syndrome, which, despite being rare, happens fairly frequently on this show. The paraneoplastic syndrome caused the coma and the blindness. George has a few months to live. "I never smoked," George says. Oh, the irony! And yet, I think I would have liked it better if George eventually did have an obesity-related illness, just because we were all expecting him not to because this show likes to surprise us. Although, I guess a case could be made for the fact that if George's fingers weren't fat, thus concealing his clubbed fingers, his cancer might have been seen earlier before it became terminal. "C'est la vie," George sighs. I just can't believe Cameron actually managed to tell someone he was dying of cancer. Good for her. As for George, well, at least he got several lifetime's worth of food into his one relatively short one.
Cameron shows up at House's office after hours to ask House what he's doing about his court case. He says he'll be fighting it and he's sure that after they get copies of all his prescriptions, the charges will be dropped and all he'll have to worry about is that stupid speeding ticket. Cameron says that's great; House will be able keep going like he always has. Well, maybe he'll be struck down with karmic small cell lung cancer. House is dying to know what morbidly obese person she was related to that gave her such a strong reaction to George. Cameron says that she doesn't have to have personal experience with something to care about a patient. House wonders whether Cameron herself wasn't the fat person, but she still won't say. She's a complicated woman. An enigma around a riddle wrapped up in a vest.
Wilson and Shitter have a late-night conversation about House in Wilson's hotel room. I hope Shitter's not billing the city for overtime hours for this, since this really isn't official police business AT ALL. Wilson maintains that House needs the Vicodin for his pain. Shitter says that sometimes people who need pain pills get addicted to them and then everyone's life is ruined. With that, he shows Wilson two prescriptions from his pad written in two very different handwritings. He asks Wilson to explain. Wilson studies them and tries not to look surprised and pissed off in front of Shitter, even though he really is. Wilson says he signs his name differently sometimes. Yeah, right. Shitter doesn't believe it for a second. He asks Wilson to think about his answer, threatening him with police action if he's lying. Wilson says he's absolutely sure that he wrote both of those prescriptions. Oh, great. So now Shitter is going to go after Wilson, who had nothing to do with House leaving a thermometer in his ass? Revenge is like war: everyone loses.