House TV Show - Re: Lax - House Photos & Videos, House Reviews & House Recaps | TWoP

Aired 11-22-2004

We join a lacrosse game, already in progress. I don't know anything about the sport, so I have nothing to say here except that I'm pretty sure players aren't supposed to see double like one young man is doing. Indeed, we zoom in on his eye and then through it to his brain and what appears to be a CGI neuron, which shorts out just in time for the kid to get knocked on his ass by an opposing player. He falls to the ground and his helmet flies off. His parents, all concerned, look on as their son bleeds and continues to have trouble seeing. "Get a doctor!" shouts the coach.

But first, we must watch the new, post-pilot extended opening credits, which are awesome and the Massive Attack song is great, but I don't really like the Law & Order-style cast walk they've got going on at the end.

House sucks. Literally -- he's sucking on a lollipop and catching up on the latest fake gossip rag when Wilson enters. House tells him to shut the door and be quiet because he's hiding in an exam room to avoid seeing any patients in the five minutes between now and the end of his mandatory clinic time. He pops a few pills as Wilson tells him that if he wants to get out of clinic duty so bad, he should just tell Cuddy that he has an urgent case. House says that would be LYING, and as we all know, House is perfect and never, ever lies. Wilson says House can just bend the meaning of "urgent" to fit his needs. House says he can, but that he can't bend the meaning of "cases" -- either you have them or you don't. And House doesn't have any right now. Wilson is absolutely appalled that House would let his highly trained, hot, young staff sit around and do nothing. House says that's not entirely accurate -- Cameron is answering House's mail, and Foreman and Chase are doing "research."

We cut to our little Cottages, bored out of their minds. Chase's medical research consists of doing a crossword puzzle. Foreman's consists of helping him with the particularly difficult clues.

House tries to leave the clinic, but is stopped by our lacrosse player and his parents. They claim to have an appointment with him, which House finds hard to believe since this is a walk-in clinic. Dad says House made the appointment by mail, and shows him a letter from a "Gregg House, MD" to prove it.

Back in the office, House asks Cameron when his signature got "so girly." The "G," especially, looks like it was written by a "junior high school girl." Oh, please. I paused the tape, and it's a perfectly normal-looking, unisex G. It's not like it has hearts flying around it or anything like that, although I wouldn't blame Cameron for putting a few there out of spite while she was stuck answering mail instead of being a doctor. Cameron apologizes, explaining that the family has been trying to get in touch with House for a long time now, so she decided to answer them. House says that if people want his attention, they should try wearing low-rider jeans. I'm assuming he means females. Or Wilson. Whatever.

By Sara M

Cameron lists off our lacrosse player's symptoms: double vision and night terrors. House is so intrigued by the latter that he ambles off to talk to the family. Cameron can't believe that House is actually talking to a patient. House says that night terrors in a sixteen-year-old constitute a "very good reason" to talk to the family. "Good work," he says on his way out.

House checks out the Dan the lacrosse player's eyes and reports that they look fine. He asks about the night terrors. Dad steps in and says that they've been going on for three weeks, and that his son is afraid to go to bed. House flicks his fingers in front of the boy's face. Mom asks what he's testing. House says he just likes watching people blink. He asks the boy to name as many animals that start with the letter "B" as he can. The boy pauses. And pauses. And pauses. And then..."Baby elephant?" Hee hee hee. House says that the boy has no neurological damage, although he is kinda stupid. As for the night terrors, House says that those have two sources: post-traumatic stress or sexual abuse. House asks who is abusing him. Dan says nothing as House lists off possible suspects: a teacher, a neighbor...his parents. The parents object. House says that Dan's lack of response is "consistent" with abuse. Dan finally speaks up to deny abuse and mention that he got hit in the head recently, something that he and his parents failed to mention before.

House walks out of the exam room, so annoyed at how people LIE. The family runs after him, Dad saying that they took Dan to the ER after the hit on the head and they found nothing wrong. House says the ER was wrong: Dan has a concussion, thus explaining the night terrors and the double vision. Dan says he had double vision before he got hit in the head. House tells him to get some glasses, and limps away.

Cameron chases after House to accuse him of taking the case just to humiliate her. House says that not everything is about Princess Cameron; he wanted to make sure the kid wasn't being "diddled by Daddy. Or Mommy." Good to know House is equal-opportunity when it comes to sexual-abuser suspects. House glances back over at Dan, who is sitting on a counter, just in time to see his freely-swinging leg jerk a few times in slow motion. Meanwhile, Cameron is still trying to defend herself from House's allegations of her self-centeredness. He ignores this because human voices are not important to him and canes back to the lacrosse family. House runs back out to the family and asks Dan if he's tired. Dan says he isn't. House says that his twitch was a myoclonic jerk, something that commonly happens when you're falling asleep. You know, like when you're drifting off to sleep and then you have a dream where you're walking, and then suddenly you fall in a manhole or something and you wake up with a violent start, startled out of your mind. What that actually is, says House, is when the act of falling asleep, with the breathing slowing down and all that stuff confuses your brain into thinking you're dying, and it sends an electrical pulse that starts you awake again. It's common and normal -- as long as it happens when you're falling asleep. And Dan isn't falling asleep. "Admit him," House orders.

In the meeting room, Cameron writes down Dan's symptoms on a whiteboard. House notes that the "G" in "night terrors" looks a lot like the one in his signature. Cameron rolls her eyes. "What does the jerk tell us?" House asks. "Nothing good," Foreman says. Ha ha! Foreman's a jerk. Anyway, he adds that Dan's brain is losing control of his body, causing the jerks and the double vision. It's either a movement disorder or a degenerative brain disease. Chase the Optimistic says it could just be an infection. "You wish," says House. He then takes a second to criticize Cameron's family history-taking ability, as evidenced by the fact that she didn't even catch that Dan's dad isn't his real dad. What proof does House have of this? Well, apparently, men are raising children they mistakenly believe to be their own 30% of the time. Foreman says it's more like 10%. Either way, that's still a really high percentage, unless you're appearing on Maury, in which case it's really low. Cameron says that this doesn't even matter, but no one is listening to her because House and Foreman are taking bets about whose false paternity percentage is correct. How are they going to actually prove that? I have no idea, but House gets in a crack about Foreman's dad not being his real dad and Foreman does not stand up and hit House in the face.

Cameron gets back to work and suggests that Dan has leukoencephalopathy. Chase says it might be something completely unrelated to the brain and that might not even be serious, like, drop it already, Chase. He adds that if you discount the night terrors symptom, there could be a systemic cause to Dan's remaining symptoms. Cameron says that the way the parents described it, Dan was definitely having night terrors. Chase points out that Cameron is taking their word for it, which is wrong because people are evil and they LIE. House says that Chase has a good point, and Chase grins like a smug bastard. House orders a polysomnograph. I've had two polysomnographs, and they are not fun. It's probably the least painful thing that will happen to poor Dan in this episode, though.

Night falls on New Jersey. Dan is asleep in bed, closely monitored via video camera by the extra-hours-working Cottages. House enters Dan's room, which is pretty much all you need to see to know that this is the kid's nightmare, since House would never enter a patient's room in real life. Anyway, NightmareHouse -- who isn't much different than RealityHouse -- restrains Dan and starts putting some rubber gloves on, which is never a good sign. He says that Dan's brain problems are the result of nerve damage in his toes, and starts to mark off an incision point around Dan's big toe. Dan begs to see his parents. As X-Files-style creepy music plays, House picks up some heavy-duty clippers and tells Dan that this is going to hurt. No shit. Dan screams as House cuts off his big toe. Ugh, this is worse than that scene in Misery when Kathy Bates took a sledgehammer to James Caan's feet. And it's still not the most wince-tastic thing that will happen to Dan in this episode.

By Sara M

Meanwhile, in real life, Chase and Foreman stand to Dan's bed and look at the computer monitor that displays his brain waves. "That's a night terror," Chase says. I guess it wasn't so systemic after all, was it, Chase? I love the guy, but he kinda sucks as a doctor so far.

Dan gets an MRI. Apparently, he comes through it without almost dying, unlike everyone else we've seen get an MRI on this show (which, admittedly, is only one person), and the results, along with his blood work, don't indicate that there's anything wrong. House tells his Cottages to assume that something is wrong, and take a very close look at the MRI. Foreman and Cameron maintain that it looks fine. Chase spots an "meningeal enhancement" and guesses that it's viral meningitis. House says that Chase is very clever to take a guess like that on the assumption that House saw something, but says he is also "pathetic." And wrong. House tells the team to take a close look at the corpus callosum. Chase says it looks "okay." House is outraged, and tells us all what the corpus callosum does: it's the "George Washington Bridge" of the brain, connecting the two hemispheres. He softens his tone and says that the problem is "subtle." Chase says that he sees some "bowing" (pronounced like the bow you tie, not the bow you take). House asks if he's guessing again. Chase says he totally is. House says that, this time, he's right. Chase smirks with pleasure. Hey, even an extremely attractive broken clock is right twice a day. Foreman says that the bowing could be easily explained by the kid's moving during the MRI, which everyone tends to do. Unless, you know, they're dying from an allergic reaction that Chase likes to call "falling asleep." House doubts that Dan was able to shift just one hemisphere of his brain. "There's no tumor," House says, but something is pushing on that corpus callosum. House thinks it's a blockage. "Today night terrors, tomorrow he's bleeding out of his eyes," House says. At this, Cameron winces and looks away. I guess she's squeamish about eyes. House orders a "radionucleotide" (I've seen it spelled "radionuclide," so I don't know if House pronounced it wrong or I just didn't do enough research here) cisternogram, which will show the blockage.

By Sara M

Foreman inserts a needle into poor, poor Dan's spine. Dan does not like it. His dad holds him while Dan thrashes around, although he doesn't thrash too much because when there's something pointy in your spine, you try to stay very, very still, I'd imagine. As Dan grunts in pain, Foreman injects the radioisotopes. You'd think that someone would be very, very careful and devote his full attention to the task at hand when injecting something into someone's spine, but Foreman is an exception. He stares at Dan's and Dan's father's eyes as he works, and sees that they both have the same fleck in them.

I'm happy to report that we're done with spine injections for now, as Foreman tells Chase about Dan's and his father's identical flecks, which make it very likely that they're related and that Foreman will win his bet. Chase says that's not enough evidence to get a payoff from House. Foreman wonders how they can get the conclusive proof that will win him a hundred bucks. Chase suggests getting the whole fam tested for Huntington's Disease, which is not funny, even though both Chase and Foreman laugh at the prospect of informing an entire family that they could all be dying of a horrible degenerative brain disorder. House limps in and Foreman informs him that the cisternogram indeed found "a lot" of blockage in poor Dan's brain. Chase says he's scheduled a surgery to put a shunt into a ventricle, and then everything will be fine. "He's lucky to have you as his doctors," says House. I guess he's making fun of them, although I'm not sure exactly how.

Mother Earth laughs naively as House does a few more ribbits. And then: "You know another really good business? Teeny-tiny baby coffins!" Mother Earth's smile fades in record time. House adds that breast milk only gives babies antibodies for the first six months of their lives. After that, you're taking your chances. I have no idea how accurate this is, and I'm not going to take a stand on it at all, since the last time I said anything about breastfeeding, it sparked a round of angry emails from the natural mothering community, who have sex with their husbands while their bed-sharing children snooze only inches away, but found my comments on long-term breastfeeding objectionable. House says that when drug companies see that parents like Mother Earth would rather let their kids die than spend forty bucks on their vaccinations, "prices will drop really fast." The way Hugh Laurie delivered that line was just awesome, by the way. He delivers all his lines well, but this one was especially great. House ribbits for the baby again, who isn't laughing this time because even babies know that House is a mean, mean man. "Tell me what she has!" Mother Earth exclaims, distraught and tearful. "A cold," says House. Yeah, a cold and a round of vaccinations. Surely Mother Earth shouldn't doubt Dr. "Love My Pills" House when it comes to advice on whether or not to medicate. Personally, I have mixed feelings about vaccinations. When it comes to deadly/debilitating diseases like polio or rabies or smallpox where the benefits far outweigh the risks, I'm all for them. But when it comes to stuff like chicken pox, I mean, that's like a rite of passage for a kid. Your entire class all gets it at the same time, everyone stays home soaking in oatmeal baths for a week, and then you all come back and compare scabs during recess.

The Cottages meet House outside the clinic with the news from Dan's surgery. It went fine and Dan is in recovery, but they took a sample of cerebral spinal fluid while they were in there and tested it -- and found oligoclonal bands and a raised IgG index, which are markers for multiple sclerosis. House asks why three people had to come and tell him this. The Cottages explain that they do everything together, and also they aren't sure if Dan actually does have MS, since he doesn't have the lesions associated with it. Foreman points out that Dan has only had MS for two weeks; the lesions could show up in time. Cameron points out that six months' worth of symptoms are required for a "definitive diagnosis," according to the McDonald criteria, although everything I've seen says it's actually twice that. But then, I'm not a doctor and I have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, so take that for what it's worth. Foreman says the VEP (visual evoked potential) indicates slowing of the brain. Cameron says that, without lesions, they can't be sure. House says that if it is MS, it's rapidly progressing, so they should treat as soon as possible in order to extend Dan's life, such as it will be, and McDonald criteria be damned! "Break it to the family, I'm going home," he says.

By Sara M

Dan isn't on the roof, though; he's standing in a lacrosse field. Chase runs up and says that there are treatments for MS; a cure could be found. And then we see that we're actually standing on the hospital roof. Dan still thinks he's playing lacrosse. He takes a step off the edge...

The morning, House arrives at work at the same as Foreman is trying to leave. Foreman informs him that they found Dan on the edge of the roof. House basks in the glow of being right yet again, and then is alarmed when Foreman says that Dan was conscious and thought he was on a lacrosse field. Chase tackled him before he could plunge into the Great End Line. "How come you didn't do it?" House asks. "I am black, but he was closer," Foreman responds. The elevator arrives. "Come on, you'll ride up with me," House says, which is about as close to an acknowledgement of a good comeback as Foreman will get. Poor Foreman just wants to go to bed.

In the office, House says that Dan's nightly wanderin' means he doesn't have MS. His parents will be thrilled, he says. Or at least, his mother will be. His dad probably doesn't know-- and Foreman interrupts to ask why this rules out MS. House says that the kid was conscious and hallucinating. Therefore, it's not a night terror. So what else could it be? "What about sex?" Cameron says, and she probably deserves what she gets for setting herself up like that. House turns and says: "Well, it might get complicated. We work together. I'm older, certainly -- but maybe you like that?" Cameron says she meant that Dan might have neurosyphilis. "Nice cover," House says, winking. Chase says that the test for that was negative as he tries not to laugh at all the sexual harassment. House says that false negatives on RPR (rapid plasma regain) tests happen 30% of the time, although that's what he said about false paternity too, so I don't know how accurate it is. Anyway, House doesn't want to delay treatment for something so frivolous as test results, so he orders them to treat Dan for syphilis now by injecting penicillin directly into his brain. Foreman says that a high-volume drug like that would kill him. House says he is obviously aware of that, and asks if anyone thinks there might be a way to inject the penicillin safely. Chase looks around, and then slowly raises a finger, because he's a suck-up. House calls him on his bullshit by asking what that way is, and Chase has no idea. He just wanted to vote for what he thought was the right answer. And then Foreman remembers that Dan has a shunt in his brain, so they can inject all the penicillin into it that they want. House orders this to be done via lumbar puncture. Oh, no.

By Sara M

House de-elevators and runs into Foreman, who informs him that Dan is missing, even though he was apparently the person who left the message for House in the first place. House wants to know why this couldn't have waited until the morning, and turns to leave. Foreman asks House what he was supposed to do; House told them to call him if they needed anything, after all. House says that if there's something he can actually help with, they should call him. As it is, he's not so good at search parties or waiting around being worried, so he's useless here. Interesting wardrobe choice for House here, by the way: he's got a t-shirt with a graphic on it that I believe is for a band, although I can't get a good enough look at it to see which one. It's not what I would expect a guy in his mid-forties to wear, but then, House does a lot of things I wouldn't expect people of ANY age to do. As the elevator doors close, House suggests that they check the roof for Dan.

In the office, House says that Dan's nightly wanderin' means he doesn't have MS. His parents will be thrilled, he says. Or at least, his mother will be. His dad probably doesn't know-- and Foreman interrupts to ask why this rules out MS. House says that the kid was conscious and hallucinating. Therefore, it's not a night terror. So what else could it be? "What about sex?" Cameron says, and she probably deserves what she gets for setting herself up like that. House turns and says: "Well, it might get complicated. We work together. I'm older, certainly -- but maybe you like that?" Cameron says she meant that Dan might have neurosyphilis. "Nice cover," House says, winking. Chase says that the test for that was negative as he tries not to laugh at all the sexual harassment. House says that false negatives on RPR (rapid plasma regain) tests happen 30\% of the time, although that's what he said about false paternity too, so I don't know how accurate it is. Anyway, House doesn't want to delay treatment for something so frivolous as test results, so he orders them to treat Dan for syphilis now by injecting penicillin directly into his brain. Foreman says that a high-volume drug like that would kill him. House says he is obviously aware of that, and asks if anyone thinks there might be a way to inject the penicillin safely. Chase looks around, and then slowly raises a finger, because he's a suck-up. House calls him on his bullshit by asking what that way is, and Chase has no idea. He just wanted to vote for what he thought was the right answer. And then Foreman remembers that Dan has a shunt in his brain, so they can inject all the penicillin into it that they want. House orders this to be done via lumbar puncture. Oh, no.

More fun with lumbar punctures! Dad's not around for this one, so Cameron gets to hold Dan down, his face level with the cleavage from her low-cut top. To give him something else to focus on other than incredible pain, Chase points out how close he is to Cameron's boobs. Cameron sarcastically thanks Chase for objectifying her. "The kid's in pain," Chase says innocently. You know what's even better for distracting someone from pain? Voices in his head. Things are looking grim for old Dan as we go to commercial.

The team meets up to discuss Dan's newest horrible problems. The penicillin isn't working and Dan's brain is still degenerating. So he doesn't have neurosyphilis, which means those lumbar punctures were for nothing. This is why it's kind of important to be certain of your diagnosis before you treat it. The crew is back to square one, except now they have even less time to figure out what's wrong with Dan. The Cottages list off all possible causes -- including vasculitis, our old friend -- and why they're ruled out. House paces around the room and talks out loud about Dan's sick brain, and how it's torturing Dan. He orders a few brain tests, saying that if Dan's brain has something to say to them, they should find a way to listen to it.

Cut to House and Wilson, having lunch outside. House admits that he has no idea what's wrong with Dan and all that brain talking stuff was bullshit that he thought "sounded cool." Dan's parents come outside to enjoy their coffees and House is all "Oh, crap," because now he has to be held accountable for his actions. The Dan family walk up and yell at House for sitting around doing nothing while their son is dying. House softens his tone and says he understands that they need to vent. Dad accuses House of being "condescending," and that surely isn't the first time House has been told that. Dad then points out that House hasn't even seen their son. House makes it clear that even without seeing Dan, he's well aware of the kid's test results and vital signs. "Go hold his hand," House says, his tone sympathetic. Why, he'll even bus their tray. What a sweetheart! I was wrong about House this whole time -- I thought he was an arrogant asshole who hated people, and here he is showing his softer side! Oh, wait. After the parents are out of earshot, House asks Wilson for sample bags, so he can run DNA tests on the parents' saliva and win his bet. The kindness was just a front so he could get what he wanted. "You're an ass," says Wilson.

House walks in on Foreman and Cameron doing some more sleep brain wave test stuff on Dan, who can be seen sleeping in the room on a monitor. House asks if they can switch the monitors to General Hospital. They cannot. House notices that Cameron isn't doing anything but waiting for lab results to come back, so he gives her a special assignment: she is to run a DNA test on two Styrofoam cups marked "Mommy" and "Daddy???" Cameron is appalled, but goes with it. Someone should do some lumbar punctures on her to make sure she actually has a spine.

House limps along the hallway and meets up with our Sue-Happy patient, who has some papers for him. House was expecting this, and grabs the papers before telling the patient that he has gonorrhea. Guy says that House is lying. House says that false positives do happen, and that the guy can have his doctor run a second test. D'oh! The guy sued all the other doctors in New Jersey. House says that gonorrhea is considered a "public health issue" that must be reported to the state, who will be sure to call the guy's wife and let her know what she's being exposed to. The guy tries to grab his papers back from House, apparently thinking better of the lawsuit. "Unh unh!" says House, whisking his hand away and hopping into an elevator. "These are mine now. I'll see you in court." He grins smugly at the patient as the elevator doors close.

The Cottages run all manner of lab tests to see if they can figure out what exactly is wrong with Dan. I guess they're not totally in support of House's guess-and-check-whoops!-we-made-it-worse methods. Cameron suddenly exclaims that, according to the DNA tests, House wins their little bet. Chase notes that Dan's mother isn't his biological mother, either.

The parents are talking to Cuddy about getting their son the hell out of the hospital and to another one with doctors who aren't assholes who freely order lumbar punctures. Good luck with that. House enters, sees them, and promptly calls them both idiots. Lying idiots. Adopted Dad says that might be true, but that House accused them of molesting their son. "Perfect," says Cuddy, since no other words are needed, really. House requests that the focus be taken off him and put back onto Dan's adoptive parents, who never told anyone -- including Dan -- about Dan's true genetic makeup, because they love Dan and they are his parents and that is all that matters. House says that when you're dealing with medical stuff, it isn't. Cuddy asks House exactly how he found out about all of this, and he has to admit that he totally stole their coffee cups. "You...can't do that!" says Cuddy, so shocked that she can't even think of a witty retort. House says that the issue at hand right now is Dan's family medical history, and how it's totally useless now. The parents say that the medical history they gave was everything they knew about Dan's biological mother, who gave him up when he was two weeks old. Cuddy says that seems perfectly reasonable to her. House asks if the biomom was vaccinated as a child. They say Dan was when he was six months old. They don't know about his biomom, though.

By Sara M

And now it's time for the CGI medical explanation segment of the program. The Magic School Bus Cam swirls around, following a nasty-looking spiky ball thing that is the measles virus. House voice-overs that before his vaccination, Dan got the measles. It made him sick, but he survived. We go inside the virus to a strand of DNA (which I don't think is accurate, since viruses only have RNA, although this graphic may very well be RNA and I just don't know how to identify a double helix), which snaps as House explains that, in a one-in-a-million freak occurrence, the virus mutates. Then it travels to his brain and hides for sixteen years before it resurfaces as subacute sclerosing panencephalitis. It's rare as hell, with only twenty cases in the US in the last twenty years, but that it can be treated as long as it's still in stage one with intraventricular interferon. This conflicts with everything I read about SSPE, which said it's always fatal, and quickly. Some remissions have been reported, but they were only temporary. Dan was better off with the MS and the lumbar punctures. The interferon treatment involves "shoving a spike into his brain," as Chase puts it, which they can't do unless they have a confirmed diagnosis. But that can't get that because all the drugs they've given him for their diagnosis mistakes will create false readings on future tests. "So the wrong treatment kills any hope of the right diagnosis. WHY do people LIE to me?" House says, like, WHY do you treat people for things without being certain that it's what they actually have? Foreman says that there is another way.

By Sara M

Cut to Dan strapped into a chair with a long, sharp needle slowly heading toward his face. It's like Dan's night terrors, except even worse and real. Foreman assures Dan that this won't hurt (although I don't see how anything could ever hurt Dan again after those lumbar punctures). The needle goes right on into the kid's pupil, through his eye, and into his retina, where it takes gets its biopsy sample.

The results are in, and Dan's got crazy measles! Foreman tells the parents and discusses the treatment options, which the parents understandably are having trouble understanding. So Foreman gives up and says it's impossible to describe all this medical stuff, so he'll just settle for saying that the intraventricular interferon treatment is "dangerous. It could kill him. You should do it."

Brain surgery time! Dan gets to be awake and aware as a drill bores through his skull.

Cuddy yells at House for winning his bet with a $3200 DNA test. Who is going to pay for this? House says that they can bill it to Dan's insurance. Cuddy says that is ridiculous. House says it isn't; without that DNA test and the adoption revelation, they never would have figured out what was wrong with Dan. He thinks that Cuddy is doing this to get out of paying up. Cuddy says she is more than happy to let House out of clinic duty -- after he pays her for that DNA test. House steps up to the desk and slams his cane down on it. Cuddy laughs at the display. Both hands free, House whips out his wallet and throws a bunch of hundreds on the desk -- money he won from all those bets he had with the rest of the cast. It only seems to cover about a third of that bill, though, so it looks like House is going to have to a little paying out of pocket.

By Sara M

Poor, poor Dan wakes up from his awful, awful surgery. Cameron and Foreman report that he got through surgery and seems to be improving already. Foreman asks him to name as many animals as he can that start with the letter O. Dan, experienced as he is with this test, says ostrich, ox...and old elephant. Cameron smiles and asks Dan how he's doing with the whole being-adopted discovery. Dan says he knew since fifth grade: he has a cleft chin and both his parents don't. The internet told Dan that this meant he was almost definitely adopted. Foreman is all pissed off that he missed that. House, who is out $2000 because of that DNA test, will probably also be pissed that a kid he called stupid figured something out when he was ten that Dr. House did not. And poor Dan! When he was mad at his parents, he probably entertained fantasies that his biological parents were actually royalty or professional athletes, and that they would find him and bring him to their castle/mansion and he would get everything he ever wanted, but he really got was crazy measles. The anxious parents run into the room and ask how Dan is doing. Cameron says he'll be fine. Yeah, for, like, three years at the most. Then things will get pretty crappy. Rickie Lee Jones's "On Saturday Afternoons in 1963" starts to play as the happy non-biological family smile at each other.

The music continues as we cut to a lacrosse game. On the sidelines stands a man with a cane. It's House, and he's wearing a snappy little golf cap and a cool leather jacket. He cheers player number 18 (it isn't Dan; he wore a different number and had a different uniform) on with a "wheels, 1-8, wheels!" showing that he's familiar enough with the sport to know the lingo. 18 scores a goal. The crowd cheers wildly, and even House has to smile. Then he remembers that he HAS A BAD LEG and he's sad. The camera slowly spins around him, and suddenly there is no crowd, and no lacrosse game. I'm not sure if we're supposed to think that House was imagining things, remembering his own lacrosse games of yore (doubtful, considering the modern equipment the players had), or just got so lost in feeling sorry for himself that by the time he snapped out of it, the game had ended and everyone else had gone home. Whatever it is, we're left with an empty field, a sad, old man, and a sad, old song.

House TV Show - Re: Lax - House Photos &amp; Videos, House Reviews &amp; House Recaps | TWoP

House TV Show - Re: Lax - House Photos & Videos, House Reviews & House Recaps | TWoP