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Recapped by Sars · Aired 02-14-2005

Well, folks, I've got good news, and I've got bad news. The bad news is that I haven't recapped anything in ages, so this might suck. The good news is that we've decided to add House to the site's roster for fall...but only if all of you promise to call it Hizzy, as I cannot seem to stop doing. Deal? Okay, cool. And now, the episode.

Fade up on a couple of kids making out in a bedroom while The Guitar Music of Imminent Nookie plays in the background. I immediately recognize the dude as Larry Fouch from Election, the kid who challenged Mr. McAllister and got snapped at by the principal. This episode is practically old home week for that movie, as we'll see shortly, but anyway, Larry's fish-faced, pink-brassiered blonde girlfriend -- Veronica Mars's Lilly Kane, but I recognized her as the dumb Plastic in Mean Girls -- is writhing humpily on top of him, and stops to ask, "What do you say now?" Larry doesn't know. Fishface wheedles that he said his dad wouldn't be home for an hour; Larry is all stammery and unsure; Fishface wants to know if he loves her, and he says of course, and we're meant to think she's pressuring him to have sex. He gives in, finally, and after some more Hoover-esque smooching, Fishface asks, "Where are they?" "Nightstand," Larry tells her, and she leans over and retrieves...a set of car keys. Wah wah. "Gentlemen, start your engines," she says. Shut up, Fishface. You were awesome in Mean Girls, but you're annoying me here, and the part of the episode where Larry barfs on you (spoiler!) can't come soon enough for me.

Revving engines on the soundtrack segue us to Fishface ignoring important principles of road safety as she screeches down a twisty road in Larry's dad's Porsche, hooting and hollering and woo-ing. I would be freaking shit Cameron-Frye-style if I were Larry, but he seems to be having fun, and they're both laughing, but then Larry isn't so much laughing as coughing, and as Fishface tries to pass the pokey white car in front of them, Larry is hacking up a lung. Fishface threads the needle between two cars -- looks like a Probe and a Taurus, like, yes, FOX, we know you want us to consume the Ford Motor Company's fine automotive product -- and zips back into the right lane with much offended honking from the other two cars, and then she checks the rearview all smugly, and there's the white car behind the Porsche, and why am I taking what seems like for-e-ver to tell you what's up with Tuberculosis Larry in the meantime? Because that's how the scene sets it up -- you can hear Larry borking away the whole time, but the director didn't cut back to him for what felt like ages, and it's really tense. Nice work. Anyway, Fishface is looking in the rearview when -- oh, hello, chunks of Larry's bronchial tissue! The mirror is suddenly spattered with blood, and Fishface looks over at him for about AN HOUR while she's supposedly driving 30 mph above the speed limit and yells over the engine, "Oh my God, you're bleeding," and predictably, Larry reaches up to touch his bloody mouth and then turns back to the road and bellows, "LOOK OUT!" Fishface slams on the brakes and the car does a spinning 270 under a tractor trailer and comes safely to a stop. Not the result I was expecting. Larry and Fishface sit, breathing heavily.

Beat.

Here's the result I was expecting, as a bus comes blaring in the other direction, fixing to t-bone them, and Larry and Fishface scream us into the credits.

Post-break, we fade back up on Fishface sitting poutily at the foot of Larry's hospital bed. Pan up Larry's leg, in a cast, to Larry's dad, who played Dave Novotny in Election, the teacher who had an affair with Tracy Flick and who had that oogy line about "her pussy gets so wet, you can't believe it," gah! So, it's weird to see him in a less oogy context. Of course, he boomeranged straight back into oog territory in the Six Feet Under season premiere by accidentally killing his girlfriend with an andiron to the eye socket, but anyway, Fishface pouts at Larry, Larry's dad beams at Larry, Larry looks at his dad all "I'm grounded until Social Security, aren't I?", and...scene.

Hospital pharmacy. House is drumming his fingers on the counter while the pharmacist is on the phone, giving the pharmacist grief all, "What lie are they telling you?" The pharmacist holds up a shushing hand; in a shot of the pill racks behind him, we can only read one label, but it says "Verify," which may be telegraphing to us that House is jonesing for his Vicodin. Also telegraphing that to us: the entire backstory of the show. The Foley guys turn up the mix on the finger-drumming as House bitches, "Come on," and finally the pharmacist hangs up and tells him that the Vicodin shipment did arrive, but Shipping sent the box to Research by mistake. House crabs, "Hmm. That's a tough one. If only we had some way of communicating with another part of the building," and whips the phone off the hook and hands it to the pharmacist. Yeah, I think we get it. Enter Cameron to give House the bullet on Larry: in the three weeks since the car wreck, Larry's been in and out of the hospital with internal bleeding and "no one can find the cause." House snarks that, given that Larry was, you know, in a car wreck, internal bleeding isn't all that surprising, then catches sight of Cuddy and snarls at her that "your hospital doesn't have my pain medication."

When the pharmacist reports that Shipping says it'll be an hour, Cuddy accessorizes her customary pastel-colored suit with a deer-in-headlights look, comes over, and takes the phone as Cameron protests that it's been three weeks, and the crash didn't cause the bleeding. House grumps that yeah, sure, the bleeding caused the crash, and Cameron is making an "actually...it did" face, but House cuts her off, saying sarcastically that the car slipped on blood in the road, and then he turns to bellow to the room at large, "Anyone here got drugs?" Various nurses and patients stare at him, and one burly patient timidly raises his hand. Heh. House doesn't follow up with the burly guy, though, because Cameron is explaining how Fishface saw the blood, got distracted, and crashed the Porsche. House would bust her chops some more, but Cuddy is off the phone and reporting, "It's gonna be an hour," so House preemptively tells Cameron to shut up and takes off after a retreating Cuddy, sarc-ing, "Thank God you took control." Cuddy's all, "If you can't wait one hour..." and she and House are about to get into it when Cameron interrupts that Larry has "hemolytic anemia," and Cuddy's all, "In the what now? How old is he?" and grabs the chart; evidently hemolytic anemia isn't something kids get.

By Sars

House, irritated that the topic is no longer his jones, says that Larry must have inherited it, he's going to die, "my condolences. Can we get back to the part where I need a fix?" That last part may have been implied. Cameron snaps that it isn't genetic: "The problem's outside the red blood cells." Cuddy says that it's impossible, kids that age don't get hemolytic anemia. House tells her to give Cameron back the file, as Cuddy has bigger problems, "like my meds," but Cuddy isn't listening, instead reading various test results from the chart aloud. Hearing them, House impatiently concludes, "He's got meningitis," but Cuddy, sounding surprised herself, says, "No," and at last House's interest is piqued by something besides his scrip; he crutches closer and takes the chart, muttering, "Artificial heart valve." It's not that either, Cameron says, looking smug -- not that House is wrong, probably, so much as that she's succeeded in getting his attention. House eyes the file, then looks levelly at Cameron and tells her to get everyone in his office.

By Sars

Greg House and the Housetones. Cameron, Chase, and Foreman listen as House, standing in front of a clear whiteboard with the phrases "hemolytic anemia" and "internal bleeding" written on it, explains that Larry will bite it in "a matter of days" if they don't figure out why his red blood cells keep falling apart, "so, differential diagnosis, people." Foreman leads off, saying that it's not environmental; the dad hired a firm to clean the house, a maid washed all the linens, hypoallergenic sheets and pillows, blah blah. Chase asks if they should recheck, but House says if it's environmental, Larry will improve just from staying in the hospital. Then Foreman suggests an infection, but Cameron says no, Larry has no fever and no white count. "99.2," Foreman says, which Cameron eye-rolls is barely above normal, but Foreman replies that it is in fact above normal, so "his body's reacting to something." As House checks his watch and acts withdrawally, Cameron suggests lupus, and Chase counters with meth abuse. "A lot of meth," says Cameron; House leans wearily on the whiteboard as Foreman anvils in the background that Larry "doesn't exactly seem like the type." Chase lectures that "rich kids do drugs just like poor kids," and Foreman smirks that he didn't mean to offend him. Chase is popping him a "...dickhead" look when House abruptly announces that it's either infection, lupus, drugs, or cancer. Cameron: "Cancer?" House: "Why not? Great meeting," and he heads for the door. Cameron thinks maybe they should narrow it down a bit before he bolts, but House says that his leg gave them until 11:15, and hands out the Housettes' assignments: he'll talk to Wilson about lymphoma, and Cameron will test for lupus, Chase for drugs, and Foreman "for...whatever you thought it was." Heh. "I have a date with a pharmacist." As Cameron looks flabbergasted, Chase and Foreman exchange a look, and we...

...cut to the pharmacy, where House is picking up his pills and Cuddy is catching sight of him doing so. House hassles the pharmacist to hurry up, grabs the bottle, shakes a pill out, and swallows it dry. Cuddy watches, taken aback, then quickly hands a file to an assistant and hustles out to head House off at the door of the clinic: "You know, there are other ways to manage pain." I should confess here that I haven't seen all the episodes, so I don't know whether the audience knew before "Three Stories" that Cuddy presided over the treatment of House's leg; if we didn't know that before, it's all the more interesting to watch "Detox" and see how it's played. Anyway: House scoffs, "Like what -- laughter? Meditation? Got a guy who can fix my third chakra?" Cuddy confines herself to remarking that he's addicted, but House disagrees; it doesn't run his life, his leg does that. Cuddy, in a tone that suggests she'd like to go off on him, but won't -- and again, if I'd seen this ep when it aired, I'd probably have wondered why she doesn't, but "Three Stories" might indicate why she doesn't -- says he's in denial. As they approach the elevator, House grouches that yeah, she's right, he didn't have an infarction in his leg, or dead muscle, or nerve damage: "It doesn't even hurt. Actually it kind of tickles." He adds that chicks dig the cane: "Better than a puppy." Cuddy snorts that it's not his leg; he just wants to get high. She asks how much he's taking, 80 mgs a day? House pearl-clutches sarcastically that that's way too much: "Moderation is the key." Then, meanly: "Unless there's pain." It's twice as much as he was taking when Cuddy hired him, she says, which House explains is because she's "twice as annoying," and Cuddy, still in a strangely amused tone that doesn't quite fit given what we know about the situation, says she can't always protect him: "Patients talk. Doctors talk." The elevator doors open, and House asks loudly, "About how big your ass has gotten lately? Not me; I defend it," and Cuddy stares dully at an elevator full of people, who all stare dully back at her. "You've got back!" House informs her with gusto, and gets on the elevator. Cuddy follows him, walking like the Molly Shannon character on Seinfeld who didn't move her arms.

In a lounge, Cameron is explaining that cocaine or meth "are very hard on the blood system" and could cause Larry's symptoms, and Larry's dad doesn't think it's drugs, but -- and the camera swings over to Fishface, sulking on a couch out of earshot -- he does know that Fishface "was in rehab in the ninth grade." Blah blah blah fishcakes (...sorry), Dad doesn't approve of Fishface and thinks she only cared about the car, not about Larry, but Fishface is pretty much a red herring (...sorry!) here, so let's move on to the part where we find out that Larry's mom died of cancer. Cameron tells Dad they're going to test Larry for drugs. By now, he's gotten a "real" name, "Keith," but I'm used to typing "Larry" now, so Larry he shall remain.

"I don't do drugs," Larry is protesting. Chase: "It's not that we don't trust you, but...[doink!]" He plucks one of Larry's hairs as Cameron VO explains to Dad that the hair will tell them what drugs, if any, Larry has taken in the last sixty days, "kind of like...rings on a tree." Chase loads the vial into the test machine, then checks the results screen. He's galled to admit it, especially since Foreman is eyeing him smugly, but it's negative for drugs, so it's Mystery Ailment 1, Chase's Diagnosis 0.

Back to Cameron questioning Dad about travel, and how he himself is feeling lately, and Dad tells her he feels fine, and they went to China but got all their shots first. Cameron says they'll test for an infection, just in case, and Larry is on what looks like an open MRI table while Foreman looks at the radioimmunoassay monitor in the room. Given that Foreman is sort of grinding his knuckles while making a "...dammit" face, we can assume it's Mystery Ailment 1, Foreman's Diagnosis 0...

...a conclusion borne out by the fact that Cameron is now asking about joint pain and whether anyone in the family has been diagnosed with lupus. Dad doesn't even know what that is, which lets Cameron exposition that "in simple terms, the body becomes allergic to itself," which I thought we all knew because Richard Dreyfuss's wife did those PSAs about it years ago, but okay. Dad, overwhelmed, fidgets with a hand over his mouth while Cameron explains more about lupus, then asks if it's treatable. "It...can be manageable," Cameron says carefully, adding that they'll test for an antibody which 95 percent of lupus patients have. Cut to the lab, and Foreman and Chase discovering that Larry does not have said antibody. Mystery Ailment 1, Cameron's Diagnosis 0, for an overall score of Mystery Ailment 3, the Houselings 0.

By Sars

Overhead shot of the hospital. Inside, Foreman takes a gander and sees a retinal clot in Larry's left eye. Cameron suggests heparin, which Chase shoots down by expositioning that they can't treat Larry with a blood thinner when he's got internal bleeding: "Fix the eye, kill everything else." Foreman adds that "surgery's out for the same reason," and Chase ups the stakes by observing that, if they don't best Mystery Eye Blob in two hours, he'll lose the eye. Larry will, not Chase. House's cane looms into the left-hand side of the shot as House pronounces sermon-on-the-mount-ily, "Forget the eye," adding meanly that Larry can "use the other one to look on the bright side." House crutches into the room and says, sounding exhausted and congested, that "the clot tells us something." Circling the table, rubbing his forehead, he goes on that it can help them figure out what Larry has, and as he says that, then, Larry "gets to live," Foreman regards him curiously and shoots a look at Cameron, who shrugs back all "I dunno." House asks again for a differential diagnosis -- how does uncontrollable internal bleeding turn into clotting? Chase pipes up for the benefit of the radio audience that they're "opposing processes," and Cameron takes another run at her diagnosis, saying it happens sometimes with lupus. Wilson, randomly in the room all of a sudden, gets coffee and shoots Cameron down; House agrees with Wilson, but also with me, wondering what Wilson is doing there, anyway, since they've ruled out cancer. "I was lonely," Wilson says, adorably. House grouchily suggests he go see Cuddy, then, since she could use a friend, and Wilson says pointedly that Cuddy said the same thing about House. House catches on, accusing Cuddy of sending Wilson to "keep an eye on" him and make sure he doesn't "cheat," at which Cameron looks up sharply and Foreman makes a "the hell?" face. Wilson cracks a weak "shots from the clock tower" joke. House repeats, wearily, that he's fine, and he's about to make his escape when Cameron whinily demands to know what's going on.

Wilson is only too happy to announce that House hasn't had any Vicodin in over a day. Cameron looks flummoxed; Foreman is more "oh, gotcha" and asks if it's House's leg. Duh, Foreman. Foreman lectures House about the side effects of detox while Cameron looks panicky, but House isn't trying to hear that and asks in a yell if he's the only one "who cares about a dying kid?" Chastened, the Housemartins return to the subject of the diagnosis; Chase volunteers that the most likely culprits for throwing a clot are infection or cancer. Wilson reminds them it ain't cancer. Foreman says his tests did not reveal an infection; House points out that certain things can hide from the tests Foreman performed, and is about to elaborate on that thought when he gets distracted by a hottie doing stretches in a neighboring office. The Housiputians talk amongst themselves. Coming back to himself, House asks what happened. Foreman, testily: "It's an infection? In his heart?" "Great!" House chirps, orders an echo and antibiotics, and goes back to bird-dogging while the Housizens pull "oh, Alice" faces and gather up their things in the background. Wilson joins House in observing the hottie. House: "Is it my birthday?"

Not exactly; the hottie is a masseuse. There follows a reasonably funny but not terribly pertinent exchange about whether she's actually a hooker (she isn't) and how Wilson is jealous because he's married (boooo) and then the hottie comes in and starts doing some nutty thing with House's hand that makes him squirm and moan, and he's already sort of sweaty from the withdrawal...it's pretty hot in a weird kind of way. Hottie: "Take off your clothes." Sars: "...Sweet!" Scene: "Sorry, I'm over." Sars: "...Lame!"

Cut to Larry's room for the obligatory hospital-food joke. Chase is performing an ultrasound on Larry's chest, and when Larry asks if he shouldn't be doing it on Larry's eye instead, Chase says awkwardly that they're focusing on the cause of the clot, not the clot itself. "So the blindness would be...permanent," Larry says. Reluctantly, Chase nods, and looks at Dad. Dad rubs Larry's head. Larry does more I'm Blind, BLIND I TELL YOU! acting. Chase chews his lip. The Piano of Damn You, Mystery Ailment is sad and plinky.

Exit hottie -- who, I don't think by accident, has her hair styled the same way Cuddy does. Enter Chase to raise his eyebrows to Jesus. "I had a massage," House grumps. "Looks like you had a masseuse," Chase grumps back, then softens to ask if it helped with the pain. House is fine. Chase knows. He says the echo didn't turn up anything; House says he can refute that result, but Chase, who seems to have expected that response, remarks acidly that the antibiotics aren't working either. Double the dosage, House tells him; Chase doesn't get it, as that'll kill Larry's kidneys, but House points out (sarcastically, to what I'm sure is your great surprise) that yes, Chase should save the kidney, and whoever they transplant it into will be grateful. Undiscouraged, Chase brings up an idea he has about Larry's eye, which House shoots down, again, but Chase persists, saying that if they can drain some of the vitreous humor, it might make some room and the clot might move on its own. House is caught off guard, and calls the solution creative, asking why Chase didn't mention it before. "I didn't think of it before," he shrugs, which gives House time to recover with, "You should've." Sars: "You should've." House is clearly thinking the same thing about himself, though, and once Chase retreats down the hallway, House limps around the corner, spent, and leans against a wall.

Cut to Larry's pupil contracting, and boy, is Heathen glad she didn't have to recap a needle entering Larry's, er, "toe," because that's exactly what's happening. Oh, wait, my mistake -- it's two needles. Geeeeeesh. Larry is awake for this, which seems unlikely, and talking while the needles are being inserted, which seems even more unlikely, like, hi, immobilization? Anyone? Anyway, we get an icky but cool NeedleCam shot of vitreous humor slurping away from the clot while Brian Eno-ish music is all wwwwiiiiihhhh in the background, and then Larry's eye twanging back into shape when the needle is removed. Holy gross CGI, Batman. That was rad. Blind Lemon Larry acting. Staring. CorneaCam. Blob. Staring. Blob. Blob...retreating! Happy Larry. Retreating Blob. Larry can see. Chase looks at Cameron all "who's the man?" Cameron looks back all "phew -- now what?"

Larry's room. Fishface slinks in and annoyingly kisses Larry's hand to wake him up; he comes to, peels off his eye patch (not, sadly, the black pirate kind), and burbles, "I can see you." She congratulates him and leans in for a kiss, which he parries because he hasn't brushed his teeth in two days, but she rolls her eyes and smooches him anyway. Then she's all "I'm worried they won't figure out what's wrong with you" this and "I feel so bad about all this" that -- this isn't about you, Fishface! God! Larry mirrors House with an "I'm fine," and comforts her about how it's not her fault, and his dad doesn't actually hate her, he's just pissed about the car, blah blah blah shut-up-Fishface-cakes, and she's leaning in for another kiss when Larry makes my day by bolting upfront in bed and speeyacking all over her. I don't get to use it often, but my family has a particular expression for upchucks that cover a large area, and I think it's safe to say that Larry just painted a mural on Fishface's sweatshirt. Good show, Larry. Fishface starts shrieking for help, and Dad and various nurses start stampeding into the room...

...and then Larry is headed for ICU with House and the Houseboys trailing his gurney. Basically, the news is not good; all Larry's indicators are "in the tank," according to Chase, who's trying to pin the blame on the antibiotics dosage, blame which House refuses to accept. House, by the way, is crutching valiantly along behind the gurney, looking like hammered shit -- sweaty, slumpy, red around the eyes. Dad accuses Fishface of hooking Larry on drugs; Fishface squawks in response that she wouldn't do that; House calls out that "it's not drugs!" The whole procession comes to a not-credible halt as House adds that Larry's liver is shutting down. "What does that mean?" Dad calls from the front of the parade, and House sarcs that "it means he's all better, he's ready to go home." Oh, brother. As the House Mice adopt postures generally associated with feeling ashamed of an alcoholic parent, Dad comes stomping over to confront House, who continues crashing around in the china shop by asking what Dad could think it means, Larry can't live without a liver, he's dying, et cetera. "What is your problem?" Dad wants to know. "Bum leg, what's yours?" House snaps back without missing a beat. Foreman, fed up, shouts, "We don't have time for this, let's go," and pulls Dad away while giving House a look that could bend rebar. In the back of the shot, Chase looks pissed, but also kind of vindicated. Good acting from those two there. The procession rounds the corner, and House slumps over his cane, red-lidded and wrung out. Cameron, whose pants are cute but maybe a bit tight, marches over: "His son's dying and you're mocking him?" "It was a dumb question," House mumbles. "No, it wasn't," Cameron says. House, busted, admits that she's right, it actually wasn't. You might expect Cameron to melt at this point, but she doesn't, asking instead whether "proving Cuddy wrong [is] worth all this?" It's kind of a weak line, but Jennifer Morrison sells it; she really sounds like she's interested in the answer, versus scoring a point off House. House can't meet her eye. Cameron regards him with pity mixed with contempt, and goes to follow the others. House slumps against another wall and leans his head against the word "Nursery" on the sign behind him.

By Sars

Cut to the hall, Cameron bitching that "this is a mistake" and Foreman correcting her that "this is a lawsuit." Chase defends House, saying that Hep E is possible and that House "always pulls these stunts" and they usually work, but Foreman says House is delaying treatment for a long shot that even House himself doesn't think will work. Cameron doesn't want to lie; Foreman tells her pointedly, "Then don't." "And get fired?" Chase joins the viewing audience in pointing out that House wouldn't fire her: "He loves you." As she gets into the elevator, Cameron doesn't know what to do: "The kid needs treatment." "Then treat him for lupus," Foreman intenses. "That will get you fired," Chase says. Cameron waits a beat before half-asking Foreman, "You really think House is losing it." "Yep," Foreman duhs, and walks off. Chase gives him a "what's your problem" side-eye and insists to Cameron, "He's fine. He knows what he's doing," and goes on his way. Cameron stands in the elevator all conflicted for a minute, then rolls her eyes and hits "door close."

Long close-up of House, in his office, eyes even redder, brow even sweatier, his breathing labored. He picks up a vintage pestle in his right hand and clonks it on his desk a few times, working up to it, then smashes the pestle down on the bridge of his left hand. He almost laughs with relief, then alternates smiling and grimacing. Cut to a long shot of him rocking in his desk chair, cradling his left hand like a baby.

Cameron uncomfortably explains to Dad that they're recommending solumedrol. Dad knows it's used to treat hepatitis, and asks if that showed up on Larry's blood tests; Cameron, who didn't rehearse her end of the conversation very well, says unconvincingly and without meeting Dad's eye for very long that the tests aren't a hundred percent accurate. Dad pounces on that, saying that other tests Larry's had could be wrong, then, and it could still be an infection. Cameron fumbles her answer to that, too, and Dad is heading towards "stroppy," but stops himself and explains, by way of sort of apologizing for getting snappish, that when his wife was sick, the doctors told them about an experimental treatment that might extend her life a few years, which of course they tried because if there was any hope to keep her with them, et cetera: "Three weeks later she was gone!" During the entire exchange, Cameron looks torn between relief at having an excuse to just tell him the truth and horrified at how closely the situations parallel each other, but as Dad nears tears talking about his wife, Cameron decides on the latter -- and, a moment later, decides to come clean: "I don't think it's hepatitis." Dad's face shifts from sadness to confusion verging on anger as Cameron adds, "I think your son has lupus."

Wilson eyeballs x-rays of House's hand, says it looks broken, and asks what House did. "I...accidentally closed the car door on it," House slurs. Wilson plays along, saying no, a car door would have broken the skin; House's hand looks like something else did it. "I want my lawyer," House grumps, and Wilson explains, although everyone including House already knows this, that "the brain has a gating mechanism for pain -- registers the most severe injury and blocks out the others." Then he asks mildly if it worked; House, looking a bit chastened, says it did. Wilson gets out splinting tools, but House says no: "I want to be able to bang it against the wall if I need to administer another dose." I imagine we're supposed to view this as the sad lengths to which the addict will go, blah blah, but one time I sewed my finger onto a skirt hem with my mother's electric Singer, and it hurt like fuck, but it was bliss, because I also happened to be suffering from some of the strongest cramps of my life that day, and thinking about my perforated finger instead of my uterus was a nice break. This anecdote has been brought to you by my talent-show costume (turned out great, by the way; the blood came right out) and the makers of Midol.

Anyway, Wilson is looking at House with a fairly heartbreaking mix of "dude, come on" and "who needs a hug?", so House consents to let Wilson tape it up. Cuddy marches in just then and demands to know why House told Cameron to lie to Dad. House is silent. "Answer me," Cuddy says, less forcefully than she normally might, and House explains that nothing he can say will change what she feels, and nothing she can say will change House's plan, so he'll just take the Fifth. Cuddy snarks on him, then asks what he's going to do -- Dad is livid, and wants the lupus treatment. House told Cameron to tell Dad ixnay on that, but Cuddy is, I think, mostly trying to find out how compromised House is by the detox here, and already suspects that he's non compos mentis, and is greatly saddened by that -- super work by Lisa Edelstein, she really packed an impressive amount into these lines here. Cuddy says pointedly that he can't "just sit back and let the kid die." "Neither can the father," House says, and Cuddy asks, sounding near tears, "So that's your plan, you're gonna play chicken with the kid's life?" "He's the dad, I should win easily," House shrugs, and Cuddy's face hardens: "Take the week off." House, offended, looks up sharply: "What, because I lied to a patient? I take risks. Sometimes patients die." He goes on to say that, if he doesn't take risks, more patients die, so the real problem is that he's "been cursed with the ability to do the math." Cuddy is trying to come up with a relevant response to this when Cameron lets herself into the exam room to report that she told Dad she wouldn't treat Larry for the lupus, and now Dad wants to transfer Larry to another hospital. He's not stable enough for a transfer, Cuddy says. "That's what I told him," Cameron says. "That's when he caved," House says, looking thoughtfully into the middle distance. After a beat, Cameron says, glaring at House, "Yeah." Dad will do it House's way. "Two plus two equals four," House says, getting up to leave. Cuddy watches him leave and looks anxious.

In Larry's room, Cameron readies the trip while Chase tells Dad that, if it is Hep E, they should see a marked decline in liver function within the hour. Dad snarls at him not to bother explaining the treatment; it's not like he gets a say anyway. Cameron tries to reassure Dad that, if it's not Hep E, they'll start the lupus treatment immediately. Larry: "Ouch!" It becomes clear that Larry is hallucinating bugs, or something, crawling all over him, and the synth ramps up on the soundtrack as Dad tells them to stop the medicine. "We haven't started the medicine," Chase mutters as he and Cameron try to deal with Larry, who eventually stops flailing around all wild-eyed and calms down...then admits that he thinks he wet the bed. Chase tells him not to worry about it, they'll get him cleaned up, but it's not nearly close enough to the end of the episode for that wetness to be anything but blood -- and sure enough, when they go to roll him over, Larry's bleeding rectally, and heavily, and then Larry loses consciousness and his machines go bonkers and we go to the last break.

Shawshank shot of Princeton-Plainsboro, then back to Larry's room, where Dad broods bedside. Cut to House's office, where Foreman, who looks like he doesn't see the point, briefs House: tests reveal upper and lower GI bleeds, "severe hemodynamic compromise," and liver failure. House stares dully into space as Chase adds, "He's also hallucinating, thinks he's being tortured by someone named Jules." Cameron bites out that psychosis is the fourth diagnostic criterion for lupus, which makes it "official." "Who's Jules?" House wants to know, asking if that name showed up in the history, but Cameron is done and shouts that it doesn't matter what Larry's hallucinating, "It matters why -- it's lupus!" "There's no need to get snippy," House tells her, hilariously, then says that this type of lupus takes years to advance as far as Larry's, and "it's been a week." Cameron still isn't hearing it, snapping that a 16-year-old isn't supposed to bleed "from every orifice," either, but Larry's doing just that -- they could have treated it, but they dicked around with Hep E and now it's too late and Larry needs a liver transplant. "We screwed up," Cameron finishes, almost relishing it. House fixes her with a stare: "You're saying I screwed up." Cameron considers backing down, and gulps, but holds the line: "Yes." Why didn't she just say that, then, House asks. "You gonna blame this on her?" Foreman, probably spoiling for a fight, interrupts. House mostly ignores him and asks if Cameron agreed with House's recommendation to treat for Hep E. "No, I didn't," she says firmly, putting her hands on her hips. "And she made herself quite clear," Chase pipes up, but House points out that she still went and lied to Dad, and that's why she's pissed. "Yeah, I trusted you," Cameron says, not getting why he's acting like that's wrong. "You always trust me -- that's a big mistake," House says wearily. Cameron just has no idea what to do with that comment; House refocuses the room by asserting that "lupus is a bad diagnosis," and when Chase sputters that it's the only one they've got, House says that it doesn't make it good. Foreman: "No. It just makes it this kid's only chance to live." House seems put back on his heels by this remark; after a moment, he tells the Housesitters to put Larry on the transplant list, and to ask Cuddy to see about moving Larry closer to the top. House heaves himself out of his chair and crutches off; Chase and Cameron exit left all annoyed body language; Foreman stands in the middle of the shot, deciding whom to follow and looking grim, then adopts a "fine, FINE" mien and stomps determinedly after House.

By Sars

"There are over fifteen thousand patients on the transplant list," Cuddy tells Foreman, who's having none of it: "How many of them are about to bleed to death unless they get a new liver?" "In Jersey, I'd say, uh -- twenty," Cuddy says acidly, before PSAing the stats on how many people die waiting for liver transplants every year. "So we're screwed," Foreman grumbles. Cuddy sighs that she'll see what she can do.

Dad asks the Housewares if he can donate part of his own liver. No go, says Chase; Dad's the wrong blood type. "So we just wait?" "I'm afraid so," Cameron says. "And hope for someone to die," Dad quavers. Thankfully, before any of the Houseguests can puke up a bromide about how that's the nature of the zzzzz, the ghastly apparition of the House of Vicodin Past manifests itself to ask, "Who's Jules?" Cameron, transparently awkward as always, suggests that the HVP go back to his office and take that grayish-green makeup off (that last part may have been silent), but he ignores her, repeating that Jules wasn't in the history. "It was a hallucination," Chase says, as if to a toddler, but HVP persists: "Of what?" "Our cat," Dad finally snips, "does this matter?" Foreman immediately says it doesn't (heh) and takes Dad through the treatment they'll pursue while waiting for a viable donor, and Dad asks how long Larry can wait. "Not long," Chase says. Mmm, sugarcoating. ...Hey, wait a minute! HVP moans and rattles his chains to the effect that he doesn't think it's lupus; Cameron, speaking to him like he's crazy, tries to steer him away, but HVP returns to her fourth diagnostic criterion, saying it's not psychosis, it's "just a kid missing his cat." Chase loudly condescends that Larry thought he was being attacked by something that wasn't in the room: "That's psychosis." But HVP differentiates between psychosis and hallucination, only to have Foreman shoot him down with, "So if he was imagining a fake cat it'd be lupus, but since it's a real cat, it's not? Take your damn pills." HVP begins to elaborate, but Dad impatiently blats that "there's no cat! Jules is dead." HVP mutters about how nobody mentioned that in the history, again, and Cameron complains that family history means people and says, "Let's go." "How did the cat die?" HVP wants to know. Dad wants the Housewives to chase the HVP out of there, and Cameron is still trying, but HVP is a determined haunt: "What happened. To the cat." "Old age," Fishface conveniently chimes in from a neighboring bench, and adds that she was 15 years old (the cat, not Fishface), and Dad is blathering how about how it's irrelevant, but House asks where Jules slept. She slept with Larry. "This is not a cat allergy," Cameron says, sounding close to crying from sheer frustration, but HVP says it's not lupus either: "Where is Jules?"

By Sars

I'd wondered when the always-reliable junkie-upchuck scene would make its grand entrance, and here we are, watching House bralf into a wastebasket as the Foley team's Barf SWAT Division works its magic. Foreman enters. House registers him, spits a few times, then trots out a joke, just as a formality: "...Cafeteria. Stay away from the sushi." Foreman won't play: "What happened to your hand?" This time House goes with "it got stuck in a drawer," and Foreman starts with the withdrawal lecture, but House cuts him off -- he's going through pain, actually, and pain causes nausea. True, but Foreman still won't play: "I took this job to work with you, not cover your ass." He reaches into his pocket and puts House's Vicodin down on the table. House looks between the bottle and Foreman a few times; cut to Foreman, looming over him and working some truly wicked Snidely Whiplash eyebrow action. "That's your solution, is to give me drugs? Interesting," House wheezes, but Foreman says pointedly, "No. Now I'm covering my ass."

Several rewatchings later, I still don't think I understand that line; it feels like it was written more for how it sounded than for what it meant. I mean, not that I don't get it at all; I understand that either Foreman needs House not to fuck up for the sake of his (Foreman's) career, or that if Foreman doesn't recommend that House take his pills, he (Foreman) is acting unethically by knowingly contributing to Larry's potential demise, or both, but it's more ambiguous than a line in this specific scene should be, in my opinion. But whatever it means, Hugh Laurie goes yard in the Emmy home-run derby with the flat, naked look he gives Foreman in response. "Take your pills, before you kill this kid." Foreman leaves; House stares after him, exhausted and angry, then down at the pills. He picks up the bottle, and I can't help noticing that his fingernails seem kind of long for a doctor. He turns the bottle slowly in one hand, then flips the top off and dumps the pills out onto the desk. A shot of his face, in which he looks almost turned on by seeing them. He picks one up and fidgets with it, giving viewers time to wonder whether it's more of a cliché if he takes it or if he doesn't. In any event, although it's taking every sweaty ounce of his strength, and although Laurie, in acting the shit off this sequence, is communicating that House thinks it's somewhat clichéd too, and is annoyed by the entire situation, he doesn't take it.

By Sars

Larry's bedside. Cameron is grimly explaining that standard lupus treatment can no longer help Larry. "Because you lied," Dad whispers angrily. "Because House wanted to play games with my son's life." Cameron looks like she wants to defend herself, but lets Chase jump in with some CYA "there's no way to really tell what progression" blah blah, then changes her mind and interrupts, "You're right. And I'm sorry." Chase cuts her a "cheese it, the cops!" side-eye, and Dad scoffs, but then asks in a milder tone, "So what do we do?" "He needs a new liver," Cameron tells him. Dad is at a loss.

Later, Wilson checks a chart in his outerwear. Cuddy, also dressed to go home for the night, emerges and asks how it went. "He admits he's addicted to the narcotics --" and Cuddy eagerly interrupts to talk about how admitting you have a problem blah blah, but Wilson cuts her off: "And he says it's not a problem." Cuddy makes an "uch" face, and Wilson signs the chart, chucks it onto the admitting desk, and snorts, "Maybe it's not, what do I know." "What are you going to do?" she asks. "Nothing, I've done enough damage," Wilson sighs. Cuddy wants to know what House would do if he found out it was Wilson's idea. "He'd never believe it," Wilson says, holding the door for her -- and I wouldn't have either, so, nice twist. If you watch the ep again, and you know it's Wilson behind the bet, you can sort of see it telegraphed in the scene where Wilson is there for no reason, but then, Wilson is there for no real medical reason often enough that it didn't stand out the first time. It holds up, but it isn't too obvious.

Fade to House's office and Joe Cocker's "Feelin' Alright" blasting, then warping out all echoey, as House sits in an easy chair and zones out.

By Sars

House, conducting an autopsy on the desiccated Muppet meant to be Jules's carcass. It's a minor complaint, really, but I'm probably not supposed to be giggling at its resemblance to one of the evil Gremlins instead of paying attention to the scene. Anyway, his hands have the shakes, and he pauses to steady them and mop his forehead with a shirtsleeve; the camera pans around to show Cameron watching from outside. He doesn't seem to know she's there, and she doesn't seem to want him to; looking concerned, she slips away.

Downstairs, a cooler crosses the lobby carrying a liver for Larry ("A Liver for Larry" would make an excellent band name; I am not in a band, so you may help yourselves). Cuddy herds people out of the way and tells someone on the phone to "prep OR 4."

House, removing various Muppet organs, then holding what I presume is Jules's liver aloft and staring at it curiously.

Larry is given the gas. The surgeon is preparing to cut when the doors hiss open and House crutches in to announce that it's not lupoid hepatitis; it's acute naphthalene toxicity. Maybe House would also like to explain to me why MS Word's dictionary recognized "naphthalene" but not "lupoid," because...what? The surgeon is like, "What, like mothballs?" No, says House -- termites, which "create naphthalene to protect their nests." He holds aloft a termite, which we see in grody close-up, to illustrate his point -- namely that the walls of Larry's bedroom are probably infested with termite nests. The surgeon isn't having it, and asks what House is basing this crazy theory on. "The autopsy I just conducted on his pet cat," House says, fully and impatiently aware of how ridiculous that sounds. The surgeon tells the nurse to call Cuddy, and security; House informs the surgeon that he's not taking Larry's liver out; the surgeon is like, "whatever, Nutty Sark"; House makes a big show of hocking a globber and sneezing on and near the surgeon and Larry, thus compromising the sterile conditions; a nurse observes that "there's no way" they can do the surgery now; the surgeon turns to her and bellows, "Ya think?!"; mission accomplished; hee.

In the hall, the Householders remonstrate with House, who still looks like crap but is decidedly perkier, that he's making a big mistake blah blah, and Chase says he's telling them to go ahead with the transplant anyway. "No, you're not," House snaps, and Chase reminds House that House himself said if Larry's illness had had an environmental cause, Larry would have gotten better just by staying in the hospital. He would have if he'd eaten anything, House shoots back: "He's lost 14 pounds!" Foreman is skeptical, but House explains: naphthalene is a fat-soluble gas, so when Larry inhaled it, it stored itself in his fat cells. Outside the hospital, his body burned protein and carbs for energy, so the naphthalene stayed in the fat; after the accident, when Larry went into the hospital, his body went to its fat stores for fuel, which released the naphthalene. NaphthaleneCam shows us this process, as what look like little sprigs of parsley whoosh into Larry's bloodstream. So getting away from the poison is what poisoned him, Foreman asks? And Sars should have noted the significance of the hospital-food shtick earlier in the episode? Except for that second part? More or less, House grumps, and starts to crutch away, but here come Cuddy and Dad in the other direction, Cuddy demanding an explanation for House stopping the surgery and Dad punching House in the face and sending him reeling into the wall.

By Sars

Chase and Foreman restrain Dad, and Cuddy and Cameron see to House as Dad screams, "I want him LOCKED UP!" They get him calmed down a bit, and House feels his split lip, obviously enjoying that gateway-mechanism high again, then explains that the cat didn't die of old age -- it died of massive internal bleeding and liver failure caused by naphthalene poisoning, the same thing that's killing Larry. Dad thinks House is full of shit and wants to know how he's expected to trust him after all the shit he's pulled; House asks for 24 hours to pump Larry full of calories. Cuddy bitches that, in that case, the liver will go to someone else "right now." Dad yells that they're "doing that surgery!" House, heaving himself to his feet, says that if he does go ahead with the surgery, he'll be "killing a mother of four." "Father of three," Cuddy corrects him, cringing, and House sighs, "I was guessing." "Like you are now?" Dad whinges, but House sticks to his guns: "Naphthalene poisoning is the best explanation we have for what's wrong with your son." It explains all the symptoms, he says, "and it also predicts what'll happen ," namely that if the surgery takes place, Larry will lie on the table, continuing to burn fat, which will continue to release poison into his system, which will kill him. "Either way, I did you a favor [by interrupting] -- he's awake now," House finishes. "You've got a chance to say goodbye." Dad is at a loss again, some more, and turns to Cameron, gaping. Cameron looks -- all together now -- uncomfortable, but tells him, "I think you should trust Dr. House." Dad looks at the other Houseflies, who don't say anything but whose body language indicates they agree. Piano and Flute of Significant Decision-Making. Dad whispers, "Give the liver to the other guy." Mystery Ailment is afraid...very afraid.

By Sars

Casa de Dad 'n' Larry. Chase removes a poster from Larry's bedroom wall, and Foreman prepares to sledgehammer said wall. Cut to the other side of the wall; Foreman peers in and raises a flashlight as, in the foreground, termites teem. Cut back to the bedroom, where the 'mites have begun streaming centrifugally out of the hole. Chase frowns. Foreman looks back at him; they exchange an inscrutable look.

PPH. In Larry's room, Cameron reports to Larry, Dad, and Fishface that Larry's tests show improvement across the board: "It means you made the right call. His liver is healing. He's gonna be just fine." Dad weepily hugs Larry, who still looks a bit out of it. Mystery Ailment angrily packs a bag. Cameron leaves, glancing back as Fishface takes Larry's hand possessively, and as she closes the door, Dad takes Fishface's other hand. Oh, fine: Aw.

Downstairs, Wilson and House crutcheconference; House is looking decidedly better in skin tone and isn't as sweaty. Wilson, neutrally: "You made it a week." "And won my prize," House gloats. "Congratulations," Wilson says, somewhat acidly, and House says that "Cuddy's a sucker -- I would have done it for two weeks off." "You learn anything?" "Yeah," House says, quietly. "I'm an addict." He pushes into his office, leaving a stunned Wilson in the hall; Wilson follows him into the office shortly, at a loss, and starts, "Ah..." House gives him an "...and?" look. Wilson, not quite believing this: "...Okay...?" "I'm not stopping," House says shortly. Wilson forges ahead, suggesting that "there are...programs" and saying that Cuddy would give House the time off, but House interrupts that he doesn't need to stop: "I said I was an addict. I didn't say I had a problem." He can work, he can fix meals: "I function." "Is that all you want?" Wilson asks, pointing out that House has "no relationships." House doesn't want relationships. "You alienate people," Wilson tries again, and House parries with, "I've been alienating people since I was three," but Wilson is through with the diplomacy: "Oh, come on! You don't think you've changed in the last few years?" Of course he has, House says; his hair's thinner, sometimes he's bored, sometimes he's lonely -- basically, sarcastic bullshit, which Wilson listens to for a minute, shaking his head, before cutting him off: "No. I was there. You are not just a regular guy who's getting older. You've changed. You're miserable, and you're afraid to face yourself." "Of COURSE I've CHANGED," House shouts suddenly, slamming his cane into a shelf by the window. Then he looks down, thinking. Wilson squints, then says in a hard tone, "And everything's the leg? None of it's the pills. They haven't done a thing to you." House, almost reluctantly: "They let me do my job. They take away my pain." Wilson looks at him, then drops his gaze a second or two later and rubs his neck. Then he nods; he seems to hear what I did in House's tone there -- that it's not ideal, but it is what it is. That, or he's acknowledging that a certain kind of stubbornness can't be debated with. Deflated, he leaves without another word. House watches him go, looking resentful, then turns back to the shelf and fidgets sadly. Man, I don't miss Dawson's Creek one bit, but I've got to say, crappy acting is waaaaaay easier to recap than Hugh Laurie and Robert Sean Leonard packing whole paragraphs into glances like this. Bastards!

By Sars

Fade to House's office and Joe Cocker's "Feelin' Alright" blasting, then warping out all echoey, as House sits in an easy chair and zones out.

House TV Show - No Pain, No Gain - House Photos &amp; Videos, House Reviews &amp; House Recaps | TWoP

House TV Show - No Pain, No Gain - House Photos & Videos, House Reviews & House Recaps | TWoP