By Sara M
A politician makes a speech about how the American Dream doesn't exist anymore because adults tell young people that it doesn't. That's all kinds of deep philosophical stuff there. If an American Dream falls in the forest, but no one is there to believe in it, do young people have hope? The guy exposits some of his personal experience growing up poor in the ghettos of Trenton and then becoming a U.S. Senator and presidential candidate against the odds, but starts to stumble over his words and sway around the podium. An aide jumps up and finishes the speech for him, and he tries to get off the stage. Unfortunately, his escape route is blocked by a stereotypical union lobbyist, who starts talking about how beneficial it would be for the Senator to support American labor. The Senator is too busy seeing double and hearing echo-y voices to care about any of that. Then he barfs all over the union guy and rolls down the stairs. With an exit like that, I can't imagine how awesome his entrance must have been.
Vogler, still dragging this show down, down, down into the C-grade range, orders House to take the Senator's case. House says that the Senator has simple food poisoning, and that House would rather spend his time "sitting on the toilet with the funny pages," apparently dealing with his own dose of bad sushi, than dealing with someone else's. I do hope House's busy work schedule doesn't force him to miss the latest Mary Worth, where all kinds of cool things are happening. Getting back to the whole stupid deal of House having to fire one of the Cottages who isn't Chase, Vogler says that if House could just prove he was a "team player," then he wouldn't have to "go through" the "exercise" of firing a member of his team. Because the best way to prove you're all about your team is to take away twenty-five percent of it (unless, of course, he fires Cameron, who is about three percent, maybe). Vogler tells House that there is another option: if he takes the Senator's case and gives a speech about a new heart drug at the upcoming National Cardiology Conference, he won't have to fire anyone. House points out that the drug is manufactured by Vogler's own pharmaceutical company, which kind of makes it less of a "team player" thing and more of a "how much can owning a hospital benefit me?" thing. And surely this is not legal, because otherwise, wouldn't every single drug company in this country with enough money have its CEOs doubling as chairmen of hospital boards? Vogler takes a smug sip of his smug coffee. House grabs the Senator's file and some information about Vogler's silly new drug. If I were him, I would have quit right there, but then we wouldn't have a show anymore, so there you go.
Foreman checks out the Senator, who says he has been feeling under the weather lately, what with all the traveling around the country and campaigning he's been doing, not to mention preparing for his trip to Sudan week. I doubt that's a vacation, unless there's a corner of Sudan that isn't ravaged by famine, civil war, or both that I don't know about. We hear a few electronic blips, and the camera pans to reveal House sitting against the wall, losing a game on his handy Gameboy DS. He takes a few Vics as a condolence prize and tells the Senator that videogames and drugs help him concentrate. Foreman makes a typical "I can't take you anywhere" face.
The Senator sticks out his tongue and says "ah," which is one of my personal least favorite parts of physicals, since I hate the feeling of wood in my mouth (no, not like that). Foreman asks the Senator about the scar on his tongue, which will be so IMPORTANT LATER that we got a close-up of it, which wasn't the most attractive thing I've ever seen on this show, although it's certainly not the most unattractive, either. The Senator -- who does have a real name but since I've gone this far without it I'm just going to keep referring to him as his title -- claims he got it falling off a swing and biting his tongue. He had a speech impediment during the healing process and all the other kids made fun of him, but that just inspired him to become the amazing person and public speaker he is today. House scoffs at the story, saying that tongues heal too fast to create speech impediments, but he's sure that the disenfranchised lispers of America will vote for the Senator in droves on election day thanks to that fine LIE. I'm sure that if anyone knows anything about lispers, it's House, who has a little bit of one himself. I'm not sure if Hugh Laurie naturally has a lisp or if his interpretation of an American accent does, but as long as it doesn't reach Cindy Brady levels of forced cuteness, I'm cool with it. As House and the Senator butt heads over the tongue lie, Foreman taps the Senator's knees with a rubber hammer. The left leg jumps. The right does not. House and Foreman exchange looks, and then House jumps up to give the knee a few knocks as well. He gets the same non-result as Foreman, and informs the Senator that his food poisoning is actually a brain problem. He orders an MRI and a lumbar puncture. Well, that won't be pleasant. Neither will the lumbar puncture.
In the lab, the Cottages report that both tests showed nothing out of the ordinary except for a small spot on the Senator's brain that Chase is sure is just a mechanical thing. House asks Chase if he'd bet his job on that, earning him an irritated eye-roll that House finds fascinating. He points out that Chase was terrified of getting fired last week, but now he seems sufficiently secure in his position to merely be annoyed. Chase apparently knows what the rest of the Cottages are about to find out, which is that Vogler is no longer forcing House to fire anyone. The non-Chase Cottages act surprised, but don't get any clarification as House orders a brain biopsy for the Senator and then leaves for the Clinic.
House finishes an ultrasound and tells the patient that she is not pregnant. The patient says she already knew that, and apparently House has, now for the second episode in a row, insisted that one of his clinic patients was pregnant despite her insistence that she wasn't and would probably know better than he. The patient wants to know why, if she's not pregnant, she's spotting. House says it's because she had a miscarriage, unsurprisingly delivering the news in a less-than-sympathetic manner. The patient claims that's impossible, since she hasn't had sex since her divorce a year ago. So either her miscarriage is taking its sweet time carrying itself outta there, or, as House suggests, the patient should think about starting her own religion. Although I have to imagine that if the Conception were that Immaculate, it wouldn't have, you know, ended like that.
Cuddy intercepts House as he leaves the exam room. She sternly orders him into her office. House swings his cane around and tells a nearby nurse that Cuddy loves his "hard wood." The nurse, who is hilariously not shocked by this, simply glares disapprovingly.
In her office, Cuddy informs House that he will not be doing a brain biopsy on a U.S. Senator because brain biopsies are dangerous. House says that brain tumors can be kind of dangerous, too, but this is all beside the point since this is his case and therefore his call. Cuddy disagrees. House asks if she's trying to pull rank on him. Cuddy says it isn't her call, either.
The two flank the Senator's bed and debate the pros and cons of a brain biopsy. The pros are that they can find out what that mark on the MRI was and, they hope, treat the Senator for it. The cons are that brain biopsies involve sticking needles into the brain and really shouldn't be done unless they're absolutely necessary, and Cuddy doesn't think a spot on an MRI qualifies. The Senator, who is now stuttering as his brain problems advance, just wants to know which course of action will get him the most votes. This is why House normally doesn't consult with his patients before choosing their course of treatment.
Since dying from a mysterious illness loses more elections than possible brain damage, the Senator chooses to have the brain biopsy. There is drilling. Then House, Foreman, Wilson, and Cuddy check out the results. Wilson looks in the microscope and reports that there is no tumor, and Cuddy is slightly annoyed that they did a brain biopsy for no reason. House tells her to hold her brain-biopsy-hating horses, since Wilson is making a funny face. Indeed, he looks up and says that the Senator has a touch of toxoplasmosis. The spot on the MRI was a toxoplasmosis lesion. And that means AIDS. While this could affect the Senator's election chances, it doesn't rule out a very short-lived career as a talk-show host. Every cloud has a silver lining.
Foreman and House tell the Senator what's wrong with his brain. Toxoplasmosis isn't uncommon, but cases as severe as the Senator's only occur when the immune system is already extremely compromised. By AIDS. The Senator asks what else could cause it. Foreman starts listing off some cancers, but House doesn't think that anything else is even worth considering. The Senator gets all agitated and fidgety, trying to insist that there's no way he could have AIDS, but he's finding it difficult to talk because of the brain lesion and all. House says he knows that the news is bad, but that they need to skip the denial phase and go right into the acceptance phase, because the faster the Senator gets his antiretroviral drugs, the longer he'll live. The Senator refuses to take anything until he's had a HIV test. House says that if the Senator's worried about his election chances, he can stop, since there's no way a black guy is going to the White House anytime soon anyway. The Senator ignores this and says that he will take drugs for the toxoplasmosis only, and be tested under his real name for any and everything that could cause toxoplasmosis besides AIDS, and tested under a fake name for AIDS. Even though he doesn't have it.
Meanwhile, Chase has taken a page out of Vogler's book and tosses House's thinking ball in the air. Cameron spends her free time Google-stalking House, whereupon she discovers a press release stating that he'll be speaking at an upcoming conference to promote Vogler's new drug. She shares the information with Chase, and they're both incredulous. House limps in and tells them that he's doing it to save their jobs. Meanwhile, Foreman is the only person actually doing his, giving the Senator a few benefit-of-the-doubt biopsies to check for cancer, even though they've already diagnosed him with AIDS. Cameron dramatically thanks House for doing the speech for them, and he asks her to go do her job and stop standing around sucking up.
As Foreman gets ready to do the biopsy, he and the Senator talk about being black in a society that doesn't trust black people. Black politicians can never get away with lying, and if they get caught, they're called a discredit to their entire race. Not that they're wrong about this, but on the other hand, Marion Barry seems to keep getting elected for stuff, so all hope is not lost. Foreman does the biopsy, and it isn't pleasant.
Cameron finds House doing some Clinic work, and thanks him once again for the speech even though he has made it more than clear that he doesn't want to hear it. Cameron makes some dramatic and nonsensical speech about how people don't thank God to make him feel good, but to makes themselves feel better. Not even comparing House to God is enough to get her asked out on a date, though. House says that people pray to God so that God doesn't crush them like bugs. House, on the other hand, is "not gonna crush" Cameron. I take that to mean that he does not have a crush ON her, while Cameron takes it to mean that when they have sex, she'll be on top.
The Mystery Miscarrier is back, and she has some bruising on her neck that the internet said could be a symptom of leukemia. Why would she go back to the same doctor who diagnosed her with a miscarriage she's absolutely certain she did not have? How does that Clinic get any return visitors? Why don't these people have regular doctors to bother with this stuff?! House diagnoses the bruise as a hickey, and, again, the woman says that's impossible. House grabs some of her hair and says he'll be testing it for the date rape drug, then.
House ambles into the Senator's room with the HIV test results. The Senator is HIV-positive. House hands him some antiretroviral drugs and says that his T-cell count was eight, which, if you watched Season 3 of The Real World, you know is really, really bad. House says that they need to contact the Senator's sexual partners. The Senator says that shouldn't be too difficult, since he's only had two since his wife died, and he used condoms with both of them. House roundaboutedly accuses the Senator of covering up his homosexuality by saying that, one day, we might have a gay black president. He will be alive, though, which rules the Senator out right there. The Senator calls House a coward who's afraid to be disappointed by thinking the best of people. Apparently, "the best" is that they're not gay. The Senator adds that it's much easier to assume the worst and make snide little remarks. It's not easier for me; I have a much better time ripping Cameron the Positive apart than trying to describe House's merry quips in a way that does them justice. When it comes to House, I don't think it's about what's easier so much as what's more practical. People will disappoint you more often than not, so why set yourself up for something that is less likely to happen? Plus, his leg hurts and that makes him angry. House thinks for a second, and then gets the equipment ready to draw some more of the Senator's blood. Only wise words from famous black patients can change House's mind.
Later, the Senator moves to get out of bed, only to find that his right leg is paralyzed. A nurse at a nearby station has a great view of the Senator's difficulties as he almost takes out his IV pole and slams his dead leg into various parts of his bed, and she totally ignores him. That's one of the most realistic depictions of a hospital this show has ever had.
Cuddy informs House that the Senator is getting worse despite the drugs. House asks her if she has a problem being ordered by Vogler to check up on his cases. Cuddy says that she has no more of a problem with that than House has with the speech. House says that he has a lot of problems with the speech, actually. Cuddy says he can take solace in the fact that Vogler's drug does work, and House calls her a "very high-strung little lapdog." He turns and enters an elevator, where he makes yippy barking sounds like a maniac.
The nurses, who apparently finished sending off emails and whatever else they had that was better to do than patient care, help the Senator into bed. One of them goes to give him his antiretroviral pills, but House, who's standing in a dark corner, tells her to stop. I wonder if he just waits around dark corners all day long, hoping for that one opportunity to dramatically reveal his presence in the room at just the right time. It looks cool, but I bet it gets boring. House says that the Senator will not be getting any more AIDS drugs because, according to the second HIV test, he doesn't have AIDS. The Senator giggles, possibly thinking of all the money he'll be making when he sues everyone for that false positive. House brings the smiling man right back down to earth by saying that he's still dying, except now they have no idea why.
Post-commercial, House and his pets discuss the Senator's condition in the middle of the courtyard, the better to avoid Cuddy's spying, House claims. And while they may have escaped Cuddy's ears, they have also placed themselves within earshot of many more, as they are surrounded by a crowd of hospital workers and visitors alike for their loud discussion of their high profile patient's case. Wilson's there too, shouting that the Senator had a false positive on his AIDS test. House orders a full body scan. Cameron is surprised, since House hates full body scans. House says he does, but right now they've got a few seconds left on the clock and they're one hundred yards away from the end zone. Cameron says she hates sports metaphors, because she's a girl.
As House and Wilson walk through the crowded lobby, Wilson asks House why he ordered that second AIDS test. Behind them, several reporters scribble furiously in their notebooks and call in their editors with their big scoop about the presidential hopeful who almost had AIDS. House claims that a second test is standard procedure, especially since the Senator probably had hepatitis vaccinations in preparation for his trip to Sudan (as if there weren't enough reasons to not want to go to Sudan, you also have to be immunized against, like, EVERYTHING), and those can cause false positives. Wilson isn't buying it, and asks House what the Senator said to him to make him reconsider his formerly unwavering belief in the Senator's HIV-positive status. Did House actually believe one of his patients -- and a politician, no less? Wilson accuses House of being a romantic and asks if he'd like to come over and "watch old movies and cry." Funny how Wilson always finds a way to make even the most seemingly homosexual-romance-unfriendly topics, like a presidential hopeful dying of not-AIDS, into an excuse to "jokingly" proposition House. House doesn't respond to Wilson's date requests, so Wilson tries a different approach: he says that Cameron and her naïve niceness must finally be getting to House, to which House retorts that he's surprised Wilson hasn't "put the moves" on her yet. Wilson says that's not necessarily true, and elicits the wrong kind of jealous reaction from House, who apparently has some hidden feelings for Cameron, not for Wilson. Wilson points and laughs to keep himself from crying out the pieces of his broken heart, and House heads into the Clinic exam room.
Mystery Miscarrier is back, as are the results of her tox screen. House is pleased to report that his patient is not an innocent rape victim, but a guilty little sex-having liar! She continues to insist that she hasn't had sex in a really long time, and reports that she has a new symptom, which she proudly states is "a rash. On [her] butt." She shows it to House, who looks at it just a little longer than he probably has to before diagnosing it as a carpet burn. A sex carpet burn. That lady has the most conspicuous sex life ever. House starts to believe his patient, and asks her if she has any condition in which she could have sex without knowing it, like multiple personality disorder. House needs to stop watching General Hospital's lead-in show, One Life to Live, where at least two main characters have MPD as well as names that allow their personalities' names to closely resemble their real ones, thereby making things easier for everyone. It turns out that you can make, like, seven thousand names out of "Victoria." Mystery Miscarrier says that while she hasn't been getting very refreshing sleep, she can account for every minute of her day, and none of them involve having sex. Not that that really means anything if she does, in fact, have MPD. Mystery Miscarrier also says that she's been stressed out lately, since her ex-husband, who just happens to live in the apartment below her, is always calling her about the "mixed signals" she's been sending him, even though she's made it perfectly clear that she wants nothing to do with him. House tells her to make a trip down to the hospital's sleep lab.
The Senator gets an MRI of DOOM, which is observed by the entire opening-credits cast. House isn't too pleased to see that Cuddy somehow tracked them down. She claims that she just "followed the scent of arrogance," which is obviously a lie since every single doctor in that hospital probably emits that same smell to some degree, so narrowing it down to one person would be impossible. The MRI finds some enlarged lymph nodes and a liver cyst, all of which the Cottages will be checking out in biopsies even though they probably don't mean anything. Vogler enters the room to gloat over how the Senator's case wasn't as simple as House initially thought it would be, and also to give House a list of "key points" he is to cover in the speech. He would have been there sooner, but his attempts to follow the scent of arrogance kept leading him around in circles. House notes that Vogler's list is fourteen pages long, and sure to put the entire audience in a coma before they can hear about how comas are one of the new drug's possible side effects. Vogler stupidly tells House to add a few jokes if he wants to spice his speech up a bit. Uh oh. Vogler shuffles off, and House asks to speak with Chase alone. Uh oh.
Out in the hall, House tells Chase he knows he's the one who's been telling Cuddy and Vogler about the Senator's treatment. Chase makes an indignant "who, me?" face, and then decides that it's not worth the effort and cops to it. House asks how he's supposed to work with someone he doesn't trust. Chase grins and says that House doesn't really have a choice.
Foreman does some more biopsies on the Senator, whose brain problems are starting to make him a little loopy.
House looks over Vogler's drug brochure and tells Wilson he's selling his soul by making this speech. Wilson says that House is getting something in return, and House points out that that is why he said "selling" and not "giving away." This new drug is the same as the old one, except that they've added an antacid and a few zeros in the price tag. Just like Cuddy before him, Wilson says that the drug does work, so it's not like House is selling anyone a bill of goods along with his soul. Plus, he's saving his staff, which is a good thing. Doing good things makes House grumpy.
Foreman comes back with the biopsy results, which don't say anything particularly remarkable except that the lymph node in the Senator's left arm has antibodies for CD11. House says that's a marker for hairy cell leukemia, named such because the cancer cells look hairy. I find hair that grows in places it shouldn't to be particularly disgusting, making hairy cell leukemia the undisputed winner of the coveted "Nastiest Disease of the Season" award. House orders a biopsy of the Senator's spleen, which has to be the only thing in that guy's body that hasn't yet had the pleasure of meeting a biopsy needle. The spleen is apparently the choice hang-out area for hairy cells, so the biopsy will easily confirm the diagnosis. Or not so easily, as both Cuddy and Chase point out how dangerous it is to do on someone in the Senator's condition. Foreman doesn't think they have a choice, what with the Senator's brain turning to "mush" and all, and House tells him to make it so. On her way out, House asks Cuddy if she's sick of babysitting him yet. She says she is, not like she'll be doing anything about it this episode.
Hey, remember Cameron? She's locked away in the lab, looking down the barrel of a microscope and not wearing her lab coat in a show of solidarity with her boss. Her mother always said that the way to a man's heart is through the systematic violation of OSHA regulations. House enters and asks Cameron why she "likes" him. Cameron says that's a sad question, and House says it's also a logical one. After all, he is pretty much the exact opposite of what one would expect Cameron's type to be. Instead of breaking out into "Opposites Attract," Cameron asks House what he wants to hear, and takes two steps forward. House takes two steps back and right on out the door without a word, let alone his version of MC Skat Kat.
Foreman informs the Senator that he'll be having yet another biopsy. The Senator has trouble breathing. Foreman says that if the Senator can't breathe, then he'll be going to bed with no spleen biopsy.
As the Senator curls up in bed with his hardcore-looking oxygen mask, Foreman tells the staff how the Senator has a new fungal infection that, while consistent with hairy cell leukemia, also makes the Senator too sick for them to do the biopsy that will really confirm it. Wilson and the Cottages wonder if there is another, non spleen-biopsying way, and quickly decide that there isn't. House looks out his window, even though the blinds are closed, and wisely states that when the Inuit (the man who has no problem calling Foreman a "spade" prefers to use the new politically correct term for Eskimo. That makes sense) go fishing, they don't look for fish. Everyone stares blankly until Wilson obliges him with a "why, Dr. House?" House turns and says that they can't see the fish, but they can see the blue heron, and where there are herons, there are fish. So they just need to test the Senator for some of the viruses unique to those with hairy cell leukemia. The Cottages are off to run titers for splitenditis and dandruffocosis.
House goes over the sleep study results with the Mystery Miscarrier. It turns out that she's been sleepwalking. And then sleepstairclimbing down to her ex's apartment to have sleepsex with him. On his floor instead of his bed, ironically enough. Mystery Miscarrier starts to get all pissed off that her ex took advantage of her, but House says that most sleepscrewers act totally normal, so the ex probably had no idea there was anything wrong with her. Well, I'm sure he had some idea something was up when she kept refusing to acknowledge anything the day after. But what a Three's Company-style mix-up that was! I wish we had watched that instead of all this Evil Ed Vogler crap. I especially like how Mystery Miscarrier's extensive sleep activities do not appear to include post-coital cuddling. House prescribes an anti-depressant that will reduce her sleeping activity, and suggests saving money on the co-pay by just having sex with her ex while she's awake, since she obviously still wants him subconsciously. Does that mean that when, in a famous family story, my aunt slept-walked into the bathroom, slept-filled the tub, and spent the rest of her night in there that she really wanted a waterbed? If only my grandparents had obliged her, their water bill would have been so much cheaper! Anyway, I were Mystery Miscarrier, I would just get a sturdy pair of handcuffs, chain myself to the nightstand, hope nothing happened that would require me to make a quick escape from my apartment, and call it a night.
Foreman gives House the Senator's latest results. He's negative for all those weird hairy cell viruses, meaning that he doesn't have hairy cell leukemia. Foreman also takes a second to express his shock that his self-absorbed ass of a boss would make a pride-swallowing speech to save their jobs. This is the kind of gratitude House appreciates, so he gives Foreman a "you're welcome," and then notes that the Senator is positive for Epstein-Barr. Foreman says that doesn't have anything to do with hairy cell leukemia, but apparently it has something to do with something, as House hands off the chart and run-limps into the Senator's room.
House removes the mask from the Senator's face and asks him for the real story behind that tongue scar. In between gasps for air, the Senator begs House to give him back his oxygen mask. House says he knows (somehow) that the tongue scar came from the Senator biting it during a childhood seizure, and House needs to know what medication the Senator used to take to control his epilepsy. The Senator just says that he hasn't taken any seizure medicine since he was ten, so the voters shouldn't be scared that one of their presidential candidates will be all doped up or having seizures during an important world conference or whatever. House yells at him to cut the political spinning bullshit and tell him what the medicine was before he suffocates. The Senator screams that it was phenytoin. House replaces the oxygen mask and soothingly tells the Senator that he'll be okay, even though he's a LIAR. Surely there must have been a better way to get that information from him than attempted murder.
House tells everyone how that phenytoin caused the Senator's problems, being sure to use those sports metaphors Cameron hates. In his zeal to annoy her, though, House's football metaphor falls apart as he is forced to give the Senator's body two metaphorical quarterbacks. Ha! Anyway, the Senator has common variable immunodeficiency disease, which Chase points out is an immunoglobulin deficiency, which he suggested earlier. House says that when Chase said it, it was stupid, but that when House said it, after the benefit of the Senator's going into respiratory distress and the positive Epstein-Barr test, it was smart. That's what you get for tattling, Chase. The Senator got Epstein-Barr at some point in his life -- probably childhood -- but it didn't surface until he was really stressed out, like running for president. Although one would think that the senatorial race and his wife's dying from cancer would have also been sufficiently nerve-wracking, but I guess not. Anyway, phenytoin and Epstein-Barr together can cause the CVID, although I'm not sure how, exactly, they all got together thirty or forty years ago but are only just wreaking havoc now. I guess the football metaphor went over my head as well as Cameron's. I'm so ashamed. House orders some IV immunoglobulin, which we can all hope works out better than the last time it was administered, and says it'll either cure the Senator, or he'll die.
And so it was, in a Montage of Healing and Thinking About Upcoming Speeches.
The time we see the Senator, his right leg is flailing about when tapped with a rubber hammer, and his brain has magically reversed its mushy state. He'll be just fine, although he will have to take medication for the rest of his life. Senator asks if he can still run for the presidency, even though he knows he won't win. House asks what the point of running is, then. The Senator says it's not about winning, it's about making a difference. House thinks about that one.
Cardiology Conference time! Vogler introduces House, who will be putting his "reputation for integrity" on the line to speak about Vogler's company's new drug. The rest of the opening credits cast sit at one table and watch, except for Foreman, who's off to a curtain, for some reason. House takes the podium and reads one sentence of copy. Then he folds up his speech and goes to sit down. Vogler mutters that that was not a speech. House says it's enough for the press release. Vogler wants a real speech, or either Cameron or Foreman will be fired. So House returns to the podium and says that he forgot to mention a few things, like how Edward "Don't call me Ed" Vogler has never lost a fight. And that the new drug is just like the old one, except for the addition of antacid and a shiny new patent. Coincidentally, the old medicine's patent is about to run out. A new drug ensures that people will keep buying Eastbrook's line of expensive heart drugs instead of the newly-available generic options. Meanwhile, a PowerPoint presentation hilariously continues on the giant screen behind House, extolling the virtues of the new drug in fancy bullet points. The pointless new drug will make Vogler lots of money at the expense of the patients. Cuddy shakes her head. Wilson brings his hand to his face. Chase finishes off his wine and pours himself a new glass, and Cameron...well, I don't know what she's doing. I guess she's supposed to be re-evaluating her relationship with House, but it really looks like she's re-evaluating her relationship with that chicken dish she ordered. Of course, no one looks very surprised. House asks the crowd to give Vogler a round of applause (they do not), and mutters to Vogler that he decided to throw in a few jokes after all.
Back at the House of House, where the occupant appears to have twelve messages on his answering machine (but are they from Wilson, Vogler, or Mystery Miscarrier, who was thrilled to have a new excuse for making nasty phone calls to people she doesn't like and decided to try it out on her doctor first?), House plays a little somethin' somethin' on his piano. ["I think it was an especially mournful and therefore ironic rendition of 'High Hopes.'" -- Wing Chun] His attempt to make the entire viewing audience swoon is interrupted by a knock at the door. House looks through the peephole, sighs, and then opens the door to reveal Cameron. Oh, crap.
House apologizes to Cameron for making her chances of being unemployed rise from zero to fifty. Perhaps a few Vicodins before the speech would have made him more docile. Oh well! House conspicuously walks to the opposite side of the room from Cameron, as far away from her as he can possibly be without phasing through the wall of his living room. Cameron tells House that he won't have to fire anyone after all, because she's leaving. House limps up and asks her if she's trying to be all noble and self-sacrificing, and Cameron says she's doing it to protect herself. She liked House because she always thought the method to his crankiness was that he wanted to help people. After hearing his speech tonight, Cameron realized that House is more about doing the right thing. So...House will never get with her because it wouldn't be morally correct to sleep with an employee? Whatever you want to tell yourself, there, Allison. Cameron holds out a hand for House to shake, but apparently, that's not the right thing to do, so she has to do that thing where you pretend that you were really just sticking your arm out on your way to pushing your hair back to save handshake-rejection face. Then she whimpers that she only knows two ways to deal with "things," and only one of them is under her control. And it's to leave. The other one, of course, is for House to beat her over the head with his cane as a literal interpretation of his very obvious lack of interest in her. He doesn't even look at her as she says goodbye and walks out. As soon as the door closes behind her, House looks kind of tearful and sad, but I choose to believe that's because he just noticed that his Gameboy DS has a scratch in it.