Season 1 X 12 : Sports Medicine

Original Airdate: 2/22/2005
Written by: John Mankiewicz & David Shore
Directed by: Keith Gordon
Transcript by: Saki

BEGINNING

[Open on Hank Wiggen shooting for a commercial in a baseball field]

Hank: Are you thinking about taking drugs? Well, think again, because drugs are not the answer. Take it from me, Hank Wiggen. Oh, don’t remember this ugly mug? [Catches ball thrown from off-camera] Two years ago, I was a star. [Cut to Bryan Singer with Lola and Warner in the background] I won nine games in a row. But by the end of August I was a goner.

Bryan: Cut, cut! [Runs out to Hank]

Hank: Not good, huh?

Bryan: Well, you caught the ball.

Hank: Yeah.

Bryan: Look, I usually don’t give line readings, but try this, here, here.

[Cut to Lola and Warner]

Warner: Hollywood ain’t holding its breath.

Lola: Well, they’re doing it wrong. I mean, for Hank.

[Cut back to Bryan and Hank]

Warner: Tell the director.

Lola: [laughs] I thought I’d give the marriage a few months before I’d go for the meddling wife thing.

[Cut back to Warner and Lola]

Warner: His arm came back day after he hooked up, I say meddle. [Touches his chest suddenly]

Lola: You okay?

Warner: Just gas. Go help your man. Give me a little room here to work it out. [Lola leaves, and Warner reaches into his pocket and takes out a bottle, dry-swallowing a couple pills. Cut back to Hank.]

Hank: TAKE it from ME, HANK Wiggen. Like that?

Bryan: [Looks frustrated] No…

Hank: Hey, sweetheart. [Lola walks up]

Lola: Hey. Hi, Bryan.

Bryan: Hey.

Lola: You boys having a little trouble with the big speech?

Hank: Yeah, you got any ideas?

Lola: It’s YOUR story. Just be yourself. Drugs were there, you took ‘em. Simple. Why’d you get clean?

Hank: Because I was gonna die.

Lola: And come April, ’cause you’re clean, YOU’RE starting, opening day, against the Yanks. [This show even hates the Yankees! SWEET!]

Bryan: Try it her way?

Hank: Yeah. [Bryan walks away, Lola follows]

Lola: Let’s start with the 2nd part first. That’ll get him in the groove.

Bryan: Okay. [To crew] We’ll do the throwing thing first. Everybody wants to direct…[Lola walks back over to Hank]

Hank: Warner alright?

Lola: Yeah, he’s good. You just bring it, babe. Just tell your story.[Walks back to Warner]

Warner: Come on, kid! Show ‘em what you’re gonna give the Yankees!

Bryan: Alright, action!

[Hank winds up and throws. We see a CG shot of the bone in his arm snapping in half. Hank falls to ground in pain.]

Hank: Oh, God! [Lola and crew runs out to him. Lola puts an arm around his head.]

Lola: It’s gonna be okay, It’s gonna be okay.

[Cut to the entrancing credits…and EVIL COMMERCIALS.]

[Cut to Hank under a PET scan. The prints show his broken arm, and how thin his other bones are.]

[Cut to House and Wilson exiting elevator.]

Wilson: He’s got osteopenia. His bones are too thin to fix the arm.

House: [On cell phone] No, price is not a problem if you have what I need. *Click*

Wilson: Osteo-

House: Young man?

Wilson: How did you know?

House: Well, if he’s an old man, osteopenia would just be a fact of life, you make him comfortable, send him home, which means you’re just boring me. So he’s young, which means it’s most likely caused by cancer, and you’re here because you haven’t found it. Have you looked really, really hard?

Wilson: MRI and PET scan are both negative.

House: Well, how old is he? Maybe the osteopenia is just early onset.

Wilson: [Pulls out a baseball card] Well, let’s see. Born 9/21/77.

House: It’s Hank Wiggen? [Takes the card and looks at it] He signed it, sweet. [Reads] “To Jimmy Wilson, the Cy Young of medicine.” You ask for that?

Wilson: I-just the Jimmy part. The bone’s too thin to support the kind of surgery that would let him pitch again. But if we figure out what’s causing the osteopenia, we can reverse the bone damage, then do the surgery.

House: Beat the Yankees, and save the free world. [Hands the card to Wilson and goes into his office.]

[Cut to a bedroom. Foreman is inside with a woman…OOH!]

Sharon: It was a working dinner. My work, company pays.

Foreman: I-I dunno. I just feel kinda weird after what it turned into.

Sharon: Well, then it stopped being work. [Foreman smiles] You know, if it’ll solve your ethics problem [plunks a box of …CONDOMS on the bed!] you can reimburse me for these. What are they, five dollars and fifty-seven cents, I believe? [She comes and stands close to him.] You let me know about Friday?

Foreman: Mm-hm. [gives her a quick kiss-aww! And she leaves. He puts his tie on, then spots her underwear under the covers. He picks it up, snickers triumphantly and…takes it with him?!]

[Cut to Chase, Cameron and House in the office.]

Chase: None of the usual suspects! Age isn’t right, in apparent perfect health before this incident, MRI and PET scan negative for tumors.

Cameron: Test him again, it’s gotta be cancer. [Foreman walks through the door quite suddenly-poof!]

Foreman: Sorry I’m late. Car broke down on the interstate.

House: [Checks his watch, then looks back at Foreman skeptically.] Don’t believe you. [To others] Chem 7 also shows a poor kidney function. Now why would a guy in his twenties have a poor kidney?

Cameron: Cancer. It first attacks the bones, and then the kidneys.

House: Come on, people. [Pulls out the baseball card] He was 17 and 7! His ERA was 2.1.

Cameron: You want it to be his kidneys, because if it’s his kidneys, then maybe we can treat it, maybe we can fix it. And if it’s cancer, then he’ll never pitch again. If this were a regular guy who came in and broke his arm lifting a box, you would’ve packed him up and sent him home!

House: My God, you’re right, I lost my head. All life is equally sacred. And I promise you, the next knitting injury that comes in here, we’re on it like stink on cheese. [Chase smirks] He weighed 175 his rookie year.

Cameron: Stop.

House: Now he’s 195 after playing a year in Japan. Why?

Cameron: He let himself go.

Foreman: Steroids! I mean, the guy was a drug user, I’m sure he wouldn’t have balked at pumping up through chemicals.

Chase: That’d explain the weight gain. And the kidney problems.

House: And the bone loss. Go ask him what he’s on. When he says nothing, have him pee in a cup. [Chase leaves, and House turns his attention to Foreman.] If your car breaks down, you’re an hour late, not two minutes. And two minutes isn’t late enough to use a clever excuse like car trouble.

Foreman: I was coming in early.

House: Huh. Unprompted lies, that’s a bad sign. Either a guilty conscience or something personal’s going on. [Foreman sits down with his coffee] See, that’s all you had to do, Just walk in, sit down, do your job. [Leaves]

[Cut to Hank, Chase, and Lola in the room.]

Hank: No, no, I never took them.

Chase: We’re gonna need a urine sample.

Hank: Oh no, you don’t trust me. [To Lola] Baby, I’m worried about taking this morphine.

Lola: You’re in pain, the doses are monitored. It’s not a slip. Besides, opiates weren’t your thing.

Hank: They should’ve been. Woah…

Chase: Mr. Wiggen? The urine sample.

Hank: I wanna say no, so I am. No.

Lola: Trust is a big issue in early recovery. He really did gain the weight honestly.

Chase: If you say so. [Moves to the other side of the room]

Hank: You’re not getting it. [Chase sits down] [To Lola] He thinks I’m an idiot.

Chase: He sure does. [Smiles, and points to the catheter bag that is collecting urine from Hank.]

[Cut to Cameron and Foreman in the lab.]

Cameron: Should we save the sample? Dr. Sportsfan can put it in Lucite and hang it around his neck. [smirks]

Foreman: Hey, Friday night? Can you cover for me?

Cameron: I think so. [Foreman grins triumphantly] Oh, Friday. No, I’m sorry, I have to go to that oncology thing-that seminar.

Foreman: Oh.

Cameron: What’s going on?

Foreman: Dinner with the…drug rep. Casting pharmaceuticals.

Cameron: Arnie? Claims he has 500 lawyer jokes, only tells one?

Foreman: Uh… new guy.

[Cut to House leaving his office on the cell phone…again.]

House: You need cash? …Ah, no, I, I don’t have that much on me… No no, it’s not a problem. No, I’ll be over by 6. ‘Kay. *Click* [To receptionist] 5 p.m., Dr. House checks out.

Cuddy: It’s 4:45.

House: I was rounding up.

Cuddy: Carol Moffett, please see Dr. House in Exam Room 1. [Woman gets to her feet with difficulty.]

House: Whoa, whoa, not so fast, Kathy.

Carol: It’s Carol. [House comes over]

House: Ah. [checks watch] Uh, trouble with the leg? [Carol nods, House spots a bridal magazine in her purse] When’s the wedding?

Carol: This Saturday.

House: Not much time to fit into that pretty dress, and no time for practical shoe-shopping. You’re running two miles a day further than you should be.

Carol: [rubs her calf] It hurts right here-

House: New shoes, less miles, and ex-nay on the afternoon Cokes, you’re gonna look beautiful. [Looks at the next guy] What’s wrong with you?

Man: I can’t get my contact lenses out-

House: [leans close] Out of what? They’re not in your eyes.

Man: But they’re red.

House: That’s because you’re trying to remove your corneas. [walks over to next man] What’s wrong with you?

Dentist: Uh, lately, my wife has noticed that-

House: Yeah, yeah. Symptoms, [gestures at Cuddy] we’re working on a personal best here.

Dentist: Numbness in my feet and hands, constipation- [Cuddy comes over to House]

House: And?

Cuddy: Maybe he doesn’t feel comfortable talking about his private matters-

House: Well, neither would I, if I was having trouble controlling my pee pee! [to dentist] You’re a dentist. Nitrous oxide poisoning, which means you’re either dipping into your own supply, or you’ve got a bad valve in the office. Laughing gas rehab’s probably more expensive than the plumber. Meanwhile, get yourself some B12. [moves to the next victim] Who’s left?

Student: I can’t see…Nah, I’m just screwing with you. [House looks pointedly at Cuddy, who smiles] It’s a hangover, my English Lit prof. told me he’d fail me next time if I didn’t show up with a doctor’s note.

House: Well, make friends with the dentist. He can give you a note, and maybe a little nitrous to take the edge off. [he observes the clock, which reads 4:47, and walks through the door.]

Cameron: Dr. House! [she and Foreman catch up to House] He tested negative for steroids.

Foreman: Elevated beta 2 proteins, though, could be cancerous. Amyloidosis, or lymphoma.

House: Or steroids. You guys got any money on you?

Cameron: He tested negative for steroids. I, um, I have a couple 20s on me. [reaches into her pocket]

House: 50 of them? [Cameron looks shocked] Foreman?

Foreman: The FAT PAD biopsy and abdominal CT scan were negative for the cancers, but-

House: Well, that just leaves us with steroids!

Cameron: He tested negative for steroids.

House: Less money is made by biochemists working on a cure for cancer than by their colleagues struggling valiantly to find ways to hide steroid use. But there’s one thing they can’t hide…[checks his watch and walks past Ducklings 1 and 2.]

[Cut to Hank’s room with the Ducklings standing in the back. House walks through the door with a grin.]

House: Hi. I’m Dr. House. [walks over to Hank’s bed] And this is the coolest day of my life. [With an even bigger grin…he whips the covers off Hank’s bed!] See? Steroid use shrinks the testicles. [The Ducklings look rather embarrassed]

Hank: [pulls the covers back on] I am clean, man, no steroids, no nothing.

House: Your lips say no, your prunes say yes. Hypogonadism. Isn’t that a great word? Thanks, we don’t get to say it nearly enough. [To Cameron] Start him on Lupron right away. [Walks out the door.]

[Cut to House and Foreman in the hallway.]

House: These freaks are willing to defile themselves for mass entertainment, for money. I feel sorry for them. [Pops a Vicodin. Lola runs after him]

Lola: He drops a clean urine, denies using steroids, then you’re giving him a drug for what, steroid abuse?

House: …No, no, it’s not. It-it’s got calcium in it. It’s very good for the bones. [Lola looks skeptical] Basically, on a molecular level, it’s just milk. [Lola looks satisfied and walks back to the room. House looks at Foreman.] How long do you figure before I get a call from Cuddy?

[Cut to House and Cuddy in her office.]

Cuddy: You put him on Lupron.

House: Uh-huh.

Cuddy: And, you told them it was like milk.

House: Yes.

Cuddy: Is there any way in which that is not a lie?

House: [thinks for a moment] It’s creamy. But, I had 3 reasons.

Cuddy: Good ones?

House: Well, we’ll see in a minute, I’m just making them up now… He lied to me first.

Cuddy: Your mother did teach you 2 wrongs don’t make a right.

House: If he lies to me about not taking steroids, then I lie to him about not treating steroids, he’s cured. Adds up for me-

Cuddy: Second reason.

House: If I told him the truth, he wouldn’t have taken the stuff.

Cuddy: And if he told you the truth, what would this stuff do to him?

House: …Severe respiratory problems.

Cuddy: Third reason.

House: I wanted to eliminate the placebo effect.

Cuddy: Excellent! [walks over to her desk] You and your lawyer can write a paper.

House: Which brings me to my fourth reason.

Cuddy: I thought you said there were only three. [sits down]

House: I thought you’d buy one of them.

Cuddy: Seriously?

House: He’s not gonna sue.

Cuddy: Because his lawyer is a nice guy, who realizes it’s unfair to blame us for ruining this kid’s hundred million-dollar career.

House: Good guess, but no. If the Lupron causes respiratory problems, it means he’s not on steroids, which means there’s something else wrong with him. And the choices, for that something else, are almost universally very bad. [Ooh, serious.]

[Cut to Hank and Ducklings in his room. Hank is gasping for air. Cameron puts an oxygen mask over his face, then Chase gives him an inhaler.]

[EVIL COMMERCIALS! >.<]

[Cut to Hank, apparently asleep/unconscious. He is now hooked up to a respirator.]

[Cut to House and Ducklings 1 and 3 in his office.]

House: Osteopenia messing his bones up. Hypogonadism. Impaired liver function, kidney function, and…we have managed to find the only professional athlete in the galaxy who is not on steroids. AND it’s not cancer. So, what’s killing him? [looks up as Foreman enters…late again.] Who shares my suspicions that the Yankees were somehow involved?

Cameron: Shrunken testicles indicate his body’s not putting out enough testosterone.

House: [glances at Foreman and checks his watch] Throw out the lungs, that was the Lupron, my fault. Don’t worry, I’ll send him a nice note.

Foreman: What about something environmental? Arsenic, mercury, the symptoms could indicate-

House: Pretty small environment. Wife’s fine, no one else is sick.

Chase: If you throw out the kidneys, everything else adds up. The testicles, the bones, the impaired liver function, could all be caused by a breakdown of his adrenal glands.

House: Addison’s disease, I like it. Mainly of course, because the treatment is…

Cameron: [rolls her eyes] Steroids.

House: Enough irony for all of us.

Foreman: Treatment would cause him to retain fluid. With the kidneys almost shut down already, he’ll die.

House: Well, we’ll get him a new kidney. [Cameron looks surprised]

Foreman: Your theory is that Addison’s is causing all the symptoms except for the kidney problems. What’s causing the kidney problems?

House: Cameron, if you could make an ironic guess right about now?

Cameron: He tested nega-

Chase: Negative for steroids. [grins]

House: Agreed. He’s not on steroids now. If he was on them anytime in the last five years, it could’ve caused the kidney damage.

[Cut to House in Hank’s room with Lola.]

House: You see, kidneys don’t wear watches. Sure, gallbladders do, but it doesn’t matter, ‘cuz kidneys can’t tell time. Steroid damage could take years.

Lola: [shakes her head] No steroids. How many times does he have to tell you?

House: I don’t know. How many times did he lie about cocaine before coming clean with the league?

Hank: That is completely different.

House: Oh, that’s right, I remember. You never did come clean. The league was out to get you, they faked the blood tests, you had to get yourself a lawyer-

Lola: If Hank says he never used steroids, that’s the truth.

House: That’s too bad. Because our theory is that the kidney damage is caused by A, and everything else is caused by B. The beauty of this theory is that we can treat A and B. But if you add the kidney symptoms back into the mix, then we are looking at another letter altogether, one that is apparently not in the alphabet. Can’t fix the bones, no more baseball, no more breathing…no more brain function.

Lola: Get another explanation.

House: Okay. Yeah. Think I’ve got one in my other pants. [starts to leave]

Hank: Hold on. [House turns around] Five years ago, Bangor, Maine. My pitching coach had me on something, I never knew what it was.

House: And you never tried too hard to find out either.

Hank: I gained 12 pounds of muscle in like, 4 weeks. [To Lola, who looks troubled] I’m sorry, baby.

[At this moment, Warner comes rushing in with a colorful balloon bunch, bopping House in the head with one. Talk about bad timing.]

Warner: How you doin’ Doc?

House: Good. Very good, yeah.

[Cut to House and Cuddy in her office…again.]

Cuddy: You want me to put Hank Wiggen on the transplant list.

House: He needs a new kidney. I was thinking the kidney people might have some.

Cuddy: Well, they like to save them for people who have-how do I put this- kidney problems.

House: He’s a professional ballplayer, brings joy to millions. Do you really want to be known as the hospital that sent him home to die? [Puts a fist down on some papers on her desk]

Cuddy: That’s a great idea, we can be the hospital that killed two people. The guy who deserved the kidney, and the ballplayer we bumped up the list when we weren’t even sure what was wrong with him.

House: Everything else is related to the Addison’s.

Cuddy: The test for Addison’s was inconclusive.

House: The test for Addison’s is always inconclusive.

Cuddy: Why do we do it at all? We should just ask you. [tries to take a paper from under House’s fist; he doesn’t budge. She gives him an irritated look.]

House: You’re not putting him on the list. [Moves his hand, Cuddy takes paper]

Cuddy: Your powers of deduction are breathtaking.

House: You take a perverse pleasure at turning me down.

Cuddy: It’s what I live for. Once in a while, though, try to ruin my day. Ask me something I can say “yes” to. [House leaves]

[Cut to Hank. He is still having trouble breathing. Cut to House entering his office; Lola is sitting in his chair.]

House: Oh, I’m sorry Doctor, I didn’t know you were busy. Want me to come back?

Lola: Is he on the list?

House: No. [walks over to her]

Lola: Then I’m giving him one of mine.

House: …Okay.

Lola: You’re not gonna tell me it’s a bad idea? Why give a kidney to someone who might not be able to use it?

House: Not my area. That is, however, my chair.

Lola: [gets up] When do we do it? [House sits down]

House: Very noble gesture. My favorite kind-dramatic, yet completely empty. The chances of non-identical twins being a match-

Lola: Do you live alone?

House: You writing a book?

Lola: I made it a question just because it’s more polite. You got a big “Keep Out” sign stapled on your forehead.

House: That explains it, I told them to put it on my door.

Lola: Even if real human contact is something you don’t have or even want, or need, you should at least be able to see it in other people.

House: Yeah. Right. True love. That’s just how we match organs these days. There’s a couple in France-high school sweethearts-they’re trading brains.

Lola: We’re a match. Run your tests. [leaves]

[Cut to Chase and Cameron in a bar. The cell phone on the counter buzzes; she picks it up, she and Chase look at it and grin at each other. Foreman comes in and sits down.]

Foreman: Hey. The lab call, is she a match?

Cameron: Haven’t heard yet.

Chase: You got a text message, though. Friday night-very cryptic.

Foreman: Gee…thanks for checking. Can you cover for me?

Chase: Oncology seminar. Friday night the same thing as the car trouble?

Foreman: I HAD car trouble.

Chase: House says you were lying. I believe him.

Foreman: …What’s that? You got a little wet smudge at the end of your nose!

Chase: Hey, I like the guy. He says what he wants, does what he wants.

Foreman: He won’t talk to anyone unless he can jerk them around.

Chase: Or needs a thousand bucks. [Foreman laughs] What is with that?

[Cut to a CLOSE UP OF HOUSE’S FACE O_O! He is in the office with Wilson.]

House: I scored. [holds up an envelope] It’s a brave new world, Doc, and we are at the cutting edge. You are looking [Wilson pulls the envelope open…and his jaw drops to his knees!] at two all-access passes to Paradise itself!

Wilson: [finally shuts his mouth] How much?

House: True cost, no man can say.

Wilson: Could that man’s accountant say?

House: One thousand dollars. Friday night-the biggest official monster truck jam in the history of New Jersey!

Wilson: [looks horrified] Okay, please tell me you didn’t just say Friday night.

House: Whatever you’ve got, you cancel.

Wilson: I-I can’t do it!

House: Listen, they only give these tickets to owners. [Wilson is stuttering like an idiot] Anytime. We wanna be in the middle of the track, we’re in the middle of the track. These tickets are so good…we have to sign a release. I mean it. We do this, we could die.

Wilson: I’ve got the oncology thing! I-I…The rectal cancer lecture, they booked me a year ago! I-I-I-I-I can’t get out, there’s no way out!

House: [looks disappointed, then turns away] Fine. I’ll ask one of my other friends. [gets up as Wilson snorts in disbelief, and he turns around.] What, you’re saying I’ve only got one friend?

Wilson: Uh, and who…?

House: [thinks a moment] Kevin, in Bookkeeping.

Wilson: Okay, well first of all, his name’s Carl.

House: I call him Kevin. It’s a secret “friendship club” name.

[Cut back to the Ducklings at the bar.]

Chase: It’s hookers.

Cameron: Oh, my God!

Foreman: Multiple hookers! But House is House, right? He’s gotta have his way. Four or five of ‘em. [Cameron looks disgusted]

Cameron: That’s not even funny!

Foreman: [quietly] What, you don’t think he has sex?

Cameron: No, of course he-

Chase: Of course not, he doesn’t have sex, he makes love! [Cameron can’t help laughing]

Cameron: I didn’t say that. [Foreman’s phone rings]

Foreman: It’s the lab. [answers it] Dr. Foreman.

[Cut to House sitting outside of Hank’s room, twirling his cane. Lola comes and sits in the chair across from him.]

Lola: If you have the results, I’d like you to talk to both of us. If you don’t, wait for me to-

House: Believe me, I’d much rather be with your better half. And by better half, of course, I mean the one who struck out Sammy Sosa on three pitches and talks a lot less. But I thought I would talk to you first, and alone. [picks up a folder and opens it] I got your results back from the lab…you DO match.

Lola: [looks shocked] I, I do? [House nods, and Lola looks happy and relieved.]

House: You’re also pregnant. [Lola gasps, and tears fill her eyes; a smile spreads wide across her face; House watches her reaction carefully.] You can’t be a donor. [Lola looks at him, confused] Not in your current condition. [She swallows hard, and manages a weak smile. A single tear spills down her face.]

Lola: Um…[wipes the tear away] Excuse me…I have to go talk to my husband. [gets up and walks quickly into Hank’s room; House shuts the folder and watches her leave.]

[More evil commercials! O_< *twitch*]

[Cut to Foreman in Hank’s room with him; he is studying a paper.]

Foreman: Heart looks good. We can schedule the transplant.

Hank: No transplant. Lola’s not gonna have an abortion.

Foreman: [unhooking wires from Hank’s chest] Actually, your wife just told me that she was making an appointment.

Hank: Well, I don’t care what she said.

Foreman: [stops and looks at him] I think you two need to discuss this further-

Hank: We’ve been trying to get pregnant almost since we met.

Foreman: Well, it’s your wife’s decision whether or not she-

Hank: She wants to trade a child for a kidney, that’s murder! I’m not gonna let her do that.

[Cut to Cameron at House’s desk; he is just walking in the door.]

Cameron: Foreman says we’ve got a problem with the transplant.

House: [walks over to the bookshelf and shuffles through it] If she terminates the pregnancy, he’s not going to let himself die on principle.

Cameron: …Would you give up a baby for someone you love?

House: [turns around and gives her a piercing look] Please tell me I don’t have to decide. [Cameron looks hurt, and House lays off the sarcasm a little] Depends, how long would they live?

Cameron: Is this a pragmatic question for you?

House: Fifty years, no problem. Six months, I say let ‘em die. Well, I’ve actually given this a lot of thought, and my personal tipping point is seven years, eight months, and 14 days.

Cameron: [quietly] I couldn’t do it.

House: You found religion.

Cameron: Do you have to be religious to believe a fetus is a life?

House: There seems to be a correlation. [Cameron looks away; House watches her for a moment then looks away, eyes darting about awkwardly.] I’m, uh…[he fiddles with the books a moment] Do you like monster trucks?

Cameron: …I don’t know what they are.

House: …Right. [he looks down for a moment] I got two tickets. [Cameron looks at him, puzzled] Friday night.

Cameron: You asking me to go with you?

House: Sure. Sounds good.

[awkward silence…]

Cameron: Like a… date?

House: Exactly. Except for the “date” part. [She stares at him, shocked speechless. He turns away quickly, embarrassed.] Forget it. [starts to walk to the computer desk]

Cameron: No, I-I was gonna go to the oncology dinner…

House: ‘Course, you have to hear Wilson’s lecture. [sits down]

Cameron: No. I just found out he canceled like, two weeks ago. [House’s expression changes to shock; he leans back in the chair and registers this. Meanwhile, Cameron comes to the door frame.] So…[she makes a weird face] what do we wear?

[Cut to Hank’s room. Chase is there, holding two fingers against Hank’s neck while studying his heart rate. This can’t be good. <_<]

Chase: Still with us, Hank?

Hank: [groggily] Yeah. My chest feels funny…

[Chase starts rubbing his fingers against Hank’s neck, attempting to stabilize his heart as Foreman and a nurse rush in.] Tachycaridia. Your heart’s beating too fast. We’re sorting it out, but you stay with us, alright? [Foreman stares at the monitor in alarm] Keep talking to us, Hank.

Hank: Where’s Lola…?

Chase: [to Foreman] 10 units of insulin sub q, an IV push (didn’t catch it)-

Nurse: It’s still dropping. [Well, duh.]

Foreman: Why’s his potassium up?

Chase: [presses his stethoscope against Hank’s chest] Damned if I know.

Foreman: [mutters something] Wee've got to suck the potassium out of him. We gotta get his heart rate down.

Nurse: Need a crash cart! [Chase empties something into Hank’s mouth]

Foreman: It’s definitely not Addison’s.

Chase: [glancing at the monitor] It’s not steroids either.

[Cut to House and Cameron on the way to Hank’s room.]

Cameron: His heart rate is 130 and rising, like a Randy Johnson line drive.

House: [thinks a moment] A for effort.

Cameron: There’s no point in doing the transplant. Even if he was stable enough, it’s obvious that we have no idea what’s wrong with him!

[Cut back to Hank’s room. Chase is uncapping an IV.]

Chase: First it’s too high, and now it’s too low?

Foreman: His heart’s not responding to the atropine.

[Cut to Lola and House in the hallway, Cameron meets up with them.]

Cameron: Heart rate’s down to 40.

House: I thought it was up.

Cameron: Now it’s down. Last time he went out at 35.

Lola: What’s wrong? [they enter Hank’s room]

House: I have no idea. [To Chase] Hit him with the atropine (sp?) before he gets to 35 again.

Foreman: We’ve already given him 3 ml. [Chase uncaps another IV]

House: Apparently, that’s not enough.

[3 MORE ml. later…]

Chase: We can’t stabilize his heart rate.

House: What did you do to him?

Chase: Kayexolate.

Foreman: His pulse was through the roof. So is his potassium.

Chase: It wouldn’t do this.

House: But something did. [He sighs, and heads for the door] Call me when he’s stable…or dead. [leaves]

[Cut to Hank’s room later that night. Warner is sitting next to his bed, talking to Hank’s still figure.]

Warner: I remember the first time. You weren’t even supposed to be pitching that day. I’d flown all the way to Tokyo to watch this kid, and he gets tossed for arguing a call in the first inning. Ah, your pitches…perfect. Ball seemed to go faster than your arm. It was like the rules didn’t apply, like physics couldn’t slow you down. [he smiles at the memory] Goddamn, it was beautiful. [Hank’s eyes open, just slightly.]

Hank: Hey, Warner. [Warner looks at him, surprised, then breaks into a big grin.]

Warner: Hey, kid. How ya feelin’?

Hank: [softly] I hurt. My arm, my head…everywhere.

Warner: [nods] They must have dialed down the morphine. That’s just wrong, you’re in pain. Hey [reaches into his pocket and pulls out some pills] I got something for ya. [holds them out to Hank, who looks as surprised as a severely tired person can look]

Hank: No…

Warner: A doc in St. Louis gave ‘em to me for a migraine.

Hank: I’m an addict, I-I can’t take that.

Warner: Even Lola was okay with the morphine. This stuff’s just a little stronger. Go on.

[Hank slowly reaches a hand to take one, and…WE SEE THAT IT’S A HALLUCINATION! House is at the end of the bed, studying Hank’s movements carefully. Hank is reaching out to the imaginary Warner.]

Hank: I’ll just try one, Warner. [As House is watching, Wilson comes in. House glances at him, then continues watching Hank.]

House: Three more symptoms. Heart rate up, heart rate down, now he’s hallucinating.

Hank: …You gotta promise not to tell Lola…

Wilson: He’s not just dreaming?

House: No REM. He’s actually awake.

Wilson: Drugs?

House: Not psychedelics, not with the heart symptoms.

Wilson: All hallucinations would point to digitalis. It would also mess up his heart. But, he’s not on it, and why would he take it?

House: …Yeah. Pithy analysis. [gets up] I can see why they asked you to speak at the cancer dinner. I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.

Wilson: I’m sorry about the monster trucks.

House: No, I think it’s great. You’re…giving back. [starts out the door]

Wilson: The only thing is…[House stops and turns around] the digitalis…it would only explain the later symptoms, not the original ones. [Turns to look at House. He thinks about this, and nods slightly to Wilson.]

[Cut to the baseball stadium. Warner is there, talking to another player who doesn’t look even remotely interested.]

Warner: Sure, it’s got a lotta movement, problem is everybody sees the movement. Yer throwing yer curve ball, like yer throwing a curve ball. [he turns to the player] Deception, that’s it. [he suddenly spots House, who is sitting a few rows over.] Same motion, less movement, so it won’t come back at ya. [moves away and sits down next to House] How’d you get in here?

House: Spoke Spanish. Told them I was the new shortstop from the Dominican.

Warner: How’s Hank doin’?

House: Lousy. [he studies Warner’s hands with a keen interest] Around your fingernails, that swelling, it’s called clubbing. Hippocrates noticed that a lot of his friends who also had that, tended to frequently grab their chests and die.

Warner: Yeah, I got a heart condition. What’s wrong with Hank?

House: What do you take for it?

Warner: Digitalis. [GASP!]

House: Got ‘em with you? [Warner reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a half-empty/half-full bottle.]

Warner: That’s weird. I just filled this prescription a couple days ago. There’s another bottle here. [searches through his pockets.]

House: Don’t bother. [Warner stops and looks at him.] Hank Wiggen stole your pills. He tried to kill himself. [Warner stares at House. House stares right back. STARING CONTEST!]

[Moooore eeeeevil commerrrrrrciaaaaals]

[Cut to House in Hank’s room, watching him intensely.]

House: So what happened? He left the bottle open, while he went to get some water? Next time, just take the whole bottle.

Hank: [shaking his head slowly] Hey man, you got no right-

House: See, people remember how many they’ve got. Date’s right on the label, number of pills, regular person can do the math. But a junkie doesn’t have to. It’s how many pills he’s got left, that’s all he’s thinking about. Bought a big insurance policy?

Hank: [laughs bitterly] This isn’t about the money.

House: Not for you, no. Most reputable stores won’t cash your checks after you’re dead. But for Lola-well, girls like that, they’re all about the money-

Hank: Don’t you say that. She already saved my life. I was dead in Japan and she brought me back, everything since then, that’s gravy, it’s more than I deserve.

House: You owe her.

Hank: Everything.

House: [nods] So, the attempted suicide, the scaring her to death, that’s-what is that, that’s-gratitude? Love? Yeah, I get that. [Hank stares at the ceiling] We’ll take out what you did to yourself yesterday, we’re back to the kidneys and the bones. [as he stands up, he sets his cane down near Hank’s urine bag.] I’m scheduling the transplant. [turns to leave, but Hank lashes out suddenly, grabbing House’s coat. House stumbles against the urine bag, and his pants get drenched…eeeew! He looks down at his pants in disgust and anger.] NEVER visit a patient.

Hank: I want that baby! [House fixes him with a cold glare] Even if I’m gone, that’s a piece of me, and Lola. Breathing. Walkin’ around town. Goin’ to baseball games. [releases House’s coat] If there’s any more transplant talk from you, or Lola, or anybody else…I won’t screw it up this time. I’ll take myself out for good. [House’s glare melts into defeat]

House: [nods slowly] I’ll start treating the Addison’s, which will most likely destroy what’s left of your kidneys-

Hank: Fine. Start the treatment.

[Cut to the elevator doors opening; House steps out, staring at his pant leg disgustedly. He starts down the hallway, and Wilson catches up with him.]

Wilson: Hey. [he looks down at House’s pants questioningly]

House: [irritatedly] Hank Wiggen peed on me. What d’you think these pants are worth on eBay?

Wilson: I’ve got some big-boy diapers in my office, the rep. hands them out like candy.

House: Is it that bad?

Wilson: [sarcastically] No! Not if you like the smell of urine-

House: ‘Course, why should I trust someone who lies about what he’s doing Friday night? [stops to face Wilson] Question is, what are you really doing Friday night? Or more to the point, what could possibly be better than monster trucks? Or are we breaking up? [turns to enter his office. Wilson lets out a long sigh, then follows House inside. House is rummaging through his duffel bag.]

Wilson: …Stacy’s coming into town this weekend, we’re having dinner. Just…catching up.

House: I definitely had pants here. [turns to face Wilson] Wait a second, is that Stacy the Stripper? I heard she’s playing Atlantic City.

Wilson: No, Stacy the Constitutional Lawyer. [House looks mildly surprised for a second]

House: You thought I couldn’t handle this news. [Wilson’s eyes fall to the floor and he nods. House turns his attention to the bag] You talk to her a lot?

Wilson: No. It’s been a long time. [House continues staring at the bag] If you don’t want me to see her-

House: What is this, eighth grade? [looks at Wilson] I’m fine.

Wilson: …It’s fine if you’re upset-

House: [suddenly] No! It’s… [zips the bag quickly and controls his voice] I have no right to be upset. You two are friends. [looks back at Wilson calmly] You should see her. Say hi for me.

Wilson: So… you’re okay.

House: [tosses the bag under his desk] I’m not the cancer doctor who’s lying about the cancer dinner. [takes his cane off the desk] I’m not the one who’s betraying all those…bald-headed dying kids. [Wilson smirks, and House heads out the door] I’m gonna go get some pants, I stink.

[House continues down the hallway and meets up with Lola, uh-oh.]

Lola: You’re treating him for Addison’s and you don’t think it’s gonna work?!

House: He tried to kill himself.

Lola: I know. He’s confused. We can have another baby, I can make him understand that. I’m having an abortion. We do the trans-

House: No.

Lola: [indignantly] I can make decisions about my body.

House: And he can make decisions about his. He doesn’t want your kidney. [Lola looks shocked and upset]

Lola: So… he’ll die?

House: …Probably.

[Lola starts to cry, and House looks uncomfortable. She looks at him with tears in her eyes…AND HUGS HIM! WHOA! House looks shocked, to say the least. He makes sure that the hallway is empty, then leans down closer to her ear.]

House: If you keep that appointment, he’ll also probably die. [Lola sobs into his shoulder] Keep the baby. [He reaches up and awkwardly pats her shoulder. He makes a face as the smell of the urine meets his nose.]

House: …Are you just being polite? [She pulls away from him, confused] See, my pants are… [gestures to his leg]

Lola: Oh, they’re all wet. [House looks at her, puzzled]

House: …You can’t smell that? [she shakes her head, and he looks intently at her, processing this.]

[Cut to Cameron and Chase eating dinner. Two other plates are on the table-Foreman is here with someone also.]

Cameron: Think she’ll abort anyway, try to force his hand?

Chase: No, she’s not gonna risk losing him. [he looks at her and chuckles]

Cameron: [gives him a strange look] That’s funny?

Chase: N-no, the monster trucks? House asking you, that’s…that’s funny.

Cameron: I was the first person he ran into, he just…asked me.

Chase: Yeah, like a date! [Oooh, someone’s jealous!]

Cameron: Exactly. Except for the “date” part. [Chase chuckles again. Sharon comes over, toting a glass of wine.]

Sharon: If the patient decides to go the dialysis route, we got some product you should check out. [smiles as Foreman sits down] Hey, Dr. Foreman.

Chase: Courtesy of the generous Sharon and the good folks at Casting Pharmaceuticals.

Sharon: I was just telling the guys about the Bermuda conference in April.

Cameron: Three days of sun and scuba, and one hour of lecture. [House suddenly comes out of nowhere and walks up to the table]

Chase: [laughing] Oh God, do we have to go to the lecture?

House: [looking down at Sharon] So, you’re the new Arnie.

Sharon: Dr. House. It’s, uh, good to see you. [Foreman glares at House]

House: Would you get me a coffee? Black, no sugar. [Sharon smiles, confused, and leaves the table. House sits down, turns his attention to the Ducklings.] Okay, so who is it? [The Ducklings look confused] Come on, she’s sleeping with one of you. [Chase snorts, and House looks hopefully at Cameron] Oh God, please tell me it’s you. [Cameron looks shocked]

Cameron: She buys lunches! She doesn’t-

House: Don’t worry, you’re not gay…you’re adventurous! [Ducklings roll their eyes]

Chase: You think she’s gonna prostitute herself? The three of us are that important to her?

House: I’m afraid not, no. The groupies sleep with the roadies in order to get to Mick.

Foreman: And…you’re Mick?

House: [eating off Sharon’s plate] That was the metaphor I was making, yes.

Foreman: Why are you here?

House: [studies Foreman a moment] Damn, it’s you. [All eyes on Foreman, how embarrassing!] It’s not Addison’s. New symptom: the inability to smell.

Foreman: I was just in Hank’s room, and he said it smelled like the men’s room at Veteran’s Stadium. He was right.

House: We rejected environmental causes because the wife was healthy. Well, she’s not. Last six months, she can’t smell a thing. If you think of them as one single patient, add her symptoms to his…[Chase nods]

Chase: Cadmium poisoning.

House: It explains everything. Even why they had so much trouble getting pregnant.

Cameron: How could they have gotten exposed to that much cadmium?

Foreman: Unless they were eating steel and batteries for breakfast. [Chase is thinking, watch out!]

House: So, where else is cadmium?

Foreman: Some foods, polluted groundwater, we should check their home-

Chase: I think I know how it happened.

[Cut to Chase in Hank’s room. Lola is at Hank’s bed.]

Chase: I’m gonna need another urine sample.

Lola: What for-

Hank: [resignedly] Sure, whatever you want.

Chase: [looks at him suspiciously] Why wouldn’t you give it to me before but now it’s no problem?

Hank: I’m dyin’, right?

Chase: So you’ve got nothing to lose this time. Begs the question… [walks over to Hank] what were you worried about last time? [Lola looks down at Hank, confused] The funny thing is, when we tested you before, we were just looking for steroids. [Looking directly at Hank] What should we look for now, Hank?

Lola: [slowly realizes] Hank? [moves away from him slightly] What’s the story?

Chase: A little weed every now and then when no one was looking? [Lola walks over to the window, shocked]

Lola: I don’t believe this. We quit.

Chase: You did. If you’d kept going, you wouldn’t have just lost your sense of smell.

Hank: No, I quit the hard stuff. [Lola looks skeptical] I just needed to relax.

Chase: Based on the symptoms, you’re a lot more than a social user.

Lola: [bitterly] So you’ve been lying to me all this time.

Hank: …I’m sorry.

Chase: There must’ve been cadmium in the soil where the marijuana was grown. Some people get bone loss, kidney failure, some people’s testes shrink, and some people lose their sense of smell. We’ll start treating it right away. You should be fine by opening day. Baseball’s in the summer, right?

Lola: [panicking] It didn’t hurt the baby, did it? The cadmium?

Chase: If you’ve been clean, the baby should be fine.

Lola: Okay. [Chase moves to the other end of the room. Hank stares at Lola desperately]

Hank: Please. I’ll stop everything, I’ll-I’ll go to meetings every day! [Lola stares into the distance] Lola.

Lola: [stares at him determinedly] Twice a day.

[Cut to House and Cuddy exiting the elevator.]

Cuddy: How’d the ballplayer doing?

House: Much better.

Cuddy: Too bad about his career.

House: What d’you mean?

Cuddy: Major League Baseball’s collective bargaining agreement requires medical reports on all treatment. Even Hank’s history is not likely to get much leniency. [stops outside of her office]

House: Why should they care that he’s being treated for Addison’s?

Cuddy: [suspiciously] You’re not treating him for Addison’s!

House: My report says I am.

Cuddy: You’re lying on the report?!

House: Everybody does stupid things, it shouldn’t cost them everything they want in life.

Cuddy: [hesitantly] No, it shouldn’t, but it usually does. [A smile crosses her face] On the other hand, it means someone can actually beat the Yankees. [enters her office, and House leaves]

[Cut to Foreman and Sharon at dinner.]

Sharon: So what about House, any way to get him down there?

Foreman: You really wanna…talk about work?

Sharon: No. Not at all…[stares into his eyes. Ugh, mushy XP]

[Cut to Chase and Lola in Hank’s room. Chase is gently stretching Hank’s arm as Lola watches. Hank grins at her, and she smiles back.]

[Cut to a shot of Gravedigger’s truck at the monster truck rally. House and Cameron come around the corner, eating cotton candy.]

Cameron: That was amazing!

House: I’m telling you, Gravedigger never disappoints. [Cameron sees a couple pass by, arms around each other.]

Cameron: You ever been married?

House: [quietly] Well now, let’s not ruin a lovely night out by getting personal.

[They walk along in silence for a few seconds]

House: I lived with someone for a while. [Looks down at his empty cotton candy cone, then at Cameron’s] You gonna finish that?

[He shifts the cone to his cane hand and Cameron hands her cotton candy to him. He only has time to grab a piece off before she snatches it back playfully, ignoring his mumbled protests and laughing. They walk off screen.]

Cameron’s Voice: I’ll race you to the car!


END

Season 1 X 11 : Detox

Original Airdate: 2/15/2005
Written by: Lawrence Kaplow & Thomas L. Moran
Directed by: Nelson McCormick
Transcript by: Mari

BEGINNING

(A male and female teenage couple are making out on a bed in his room.)

Pam: (breaks away) What d'you say now?

Keith: I dunno.

Pam: You said your dad wouldn't be home for an hour.

Keith: I know but it-

Pam: Don't you love me?

Keith: Of course, you know I-

Pam: Than come on. Let's do it!

Keith: (hesitates) Alright.

Pam: (kisses Keith and breaks away again) Where are they?

Keith: Night stand.

Pam: (fumbles is night stand and pulls something out) Gentlemen. Start your engines. (holds up... car keys!)

(We see Keith and Pam zipping around dangerously in the Porsche.)

Pam: I so want this car! Wahoo! (Keith is laughing and then starts coughing- hard while Pam continues driving recklessly. Pam eventually looks up in the rear view mirror and sees that there's blood spattered on it.) Oh, my God, you're bleeding!

Keith: (looks ahead) Look out!

(The car does a 360 and slides under an on-coming tractor trailer. They stop and are both quiet- but then a bus hits them on Keith's side of the car.)

(Opening credits.)

(We see Pam in Keith's hospital room where his entire leg is in a cast. Pam is standing at the foot of the bed while Keith's father is standing beside him.)

(We're now magically transported to the pharmacy where House is standing impatiently. Uh-oh. Somebody's in trouble... House is drumming his fingers on the counter.)

House: What lie are they telling you?

Pharmacist: (puts his hand up to House and speaks into the phone) Okay, yes.

House: Come on.

Pharmacist: Alright. Thank you. (hangs up) Okay. Pharmaceuticals were delivered this morning but but shipping accidently sent the box with Vicodin to Research.

House: Hmm. That's a tough one. If only we had some way to communicate with another part of the building. (picks up the phone for the pharmacist.)

Cameron: (who has just entered) Sixteen-year-old MVA victim. He's been in-and-out of the hospital for three weeks with internal bleeding. No one can find the cause.

House: Internal bleeding after a car accident. Wow, that's shocking. (to Pharmacist) Let me talk to shipping, I speak their language.

Cameron: It's been three weeks-

House: (to Cuddy who is nearby) Your hospital doesn't have my pain medication.

Pharmacist: Shipping says it's gonna be an hour.

Cuddy: (to phone) This is Dr. Cuddy...

Cameron: The crash didn't cause the bleed.

House: Right. The bleed caused the crash. Blood got on the road, got all slippery. (to clinic area) Anyone here got drugs? (most just stare at him but one man raises his hand)

Cameron: She saw his blood, she got distracted, she crashed his dad's Porsche.

House: Dad loved that.

Cameron: He was-

House: Don't talk.

Cuddy: It's gonna be an hour.

House: Thank God you took control.

Cuddy: If you can't wait one hour to get-

Cameron: The kid's got hemolytic anemia.

Cuddy: Kid? How old? (looks at file)

House: He must have inherited it. He's gonna die. My condolences.

Cameron: Wasn't inherited. The problem's outside the red blood cells.

Cuddy: This is impossible. A sixteen-year-old does not get hemolytic anemia-

House: Give her back the file! You have bigger problems to attend to, like my meds.

Cuddy: (reading chart) Elevated indirect bilirubin, low-serum haptoglobin...

House: He's got meningitis.

Cuddy: Uh, no.

House: Artificial heart valve. (takes file)

Cameron: No.

House: (studies file) Get everyone in my office.

(Now in House's office with House and the ducklings, all ready to get down to business.)

House: Kid's gonna be dead in a matter of days if we don't figure out why his red blood cells are disintegrating. So, differencial diagnosis, people.

Foreman: It's not environmental. Dad hired a company to clean the house, maid washed all the clothes, bought hypo-allergenic sheets and pillows.

Chase: You want us to re-check?

House: No. If it's environmental, he'll get better from just staying here.

Foreman: Could be an infection.

Cameron: No fever, no white count.

Foreman: Well, he's 99.2.

Cameron: Barely above normal.

(House checks his watch. Getting a bit ansy, are we?)

Foreman: But above. His body's reacting to something.

Cameron: We could account for the lack of fever and white count if it's lupus.

Chase: Drugs'll fit just as well as lupus. Meth'll cause hemolytic anemia.

Cameron: A lot of meth.

(House is pacing the room and looks generally miserable.)

Foreman: Also doesn't exactly seem like the type.

Chase: Because his dad drives a Porsche? Rich kids do drugs just like poor kids.

Foreman: (grins) Didn't mean to offend you.

House: Okay, so, it's infection, lupus, drugs or cancer.

Cameron: Cancer?!

House: Why not? Great meeting. (goes to leaves)

Cameron: Shouldn't we narrow it down before we finish?

House: My leg gave us until 11:15. I'll talk to Wilson about lymphoma. (to Cameron) ANA for lupus, (to Chase) radioimmunoassay for drugs and (to Foreman) you... test for whatever you thought it was. (leaves) I've got a date with a pharmacist.

(Shot of Cuddy in her office. She sees House whizzing by to the pharmacy counter.)

House: Come on, come on, come on.

(Pharmacist puts a bottle down and House snatches them up, shakes a few- five maybe?- into his hand and dry-swallows them. Mmm. Vicodin-y goodness. Cuddy sees him doing this and goes out to talk to him.)

Cuddy: You know, there are other ways to manage pain.

House: Like what? Laughter? Meditation? Got a guy who can fix my third chakra. (walks away)

Cuddy: (following him) You're addicted.

House: If the pills ran my life I'd agree with you but it's my leg that's busy calendaring what I can and cannot do.

Cuddy: You're in denial.

House: Right. I never had an infarction in my leg. No dead muscle, no nerve damage. (pushes the elevator button) Doesn't even hurt. Kinda tickles actually. The chicks dig this. (holds up cane) Better than a puppy.

Cuddy: It's not just your leg. You wanna get high! You're doing what, 80 milligrams a day?

House: No, that's way too much! Moderation is the key. Unless there's pain.

Cuddy: It's double what you were taking when I hired you.

House: 'Cause you're twice as annoying.

Cuddy: I can't always be here to protect you. Patients talk. Doctors talk.

House: About how big your ass has gotten lately? Not me, I defeand it. You got back. (they step into the elevator...)

Cuddy: (...and they step out again) You can't go a week without the drugs.

House: No, I don't wanna go without the drugs. It'll hurt.

Cuddy: No, you can't. If you're just getting off pain medication, it will hurt and you won't be having a great time but you'll make it. If you're detoxing, you'll have chills, nausea, the pain will magnify five, ten times. You won't make it!

House: Well, I guess we'll never know.

Cuddy: I'll give you a week off clinic duty if you can go a week without narcotics.

House: No way! I love the clinic!

Cuddy: You love the pills. Two weeks.

House: The pills don't make me high. They make me neutral.

Cuddy: A month.

House: (considers carefully and reaches into his pocket and tosses her the bottle) You're on, mister. (Cuddy catches them and smiles and House walks into his office.)

(Cameron is sitting with Keith's Dad in the waiting area. She's got a clipboard.)

Keith's Dad: Drugs could cause this?

Cameron: Cocaine and meth are very hard on the blood system. Has he had any erratic behavior?

Keith's Dad: No but... (looks over at Pam across the room) She was in rehab in the ninth grade. She's supposedly clean now but...

Cameron: She obviously cares for him.

Keith's Dad: What she cared about was the car. Anniversary present from my wife. We drove it up north to watch the leaves change. She was dead a year later. Cancer.

Cameron: I'm sorry... Mr. Foster we're gonna test Keith for drugs.

(Keith's room.)

Keith: I don't do drugs.

Chase: It's not that we don't trust you but... (plucks a hair from Keith's hand)

Cameron: (her voice; a vial with his hair is put into a machine) His hair will tell us any drugs he's taken over the past sixty days. Kind of like... rings on a tree.

Chase: (while looking at computer moniter) Negative.

(Waiting room.)

Cameron: Have you been sick?

Keith's Dad: No, nothing.

Cameron: Have you been out of the country?

Keith's Dad: We went to China but we got all our shots before we left.

(Keith is laying on a table being scanned.)

Cameron: (voice) It could be an infection. We’re going to give him a gallium scan just to be safe. We inject a radioactive isotope into his bloodstream and we check to see if there’s inflammation anywhere in the body.

(Foreman studies moniter. Switches back to waiting room.)

Cameron: Has he ever complained of any joint pain? (Keith's Dad shakes his head) Sensitivity to light? Rashes?

Keith's Dad: No, no. Nothing.

Cameron: Any relatives ever been diagnosed with lupus?

Keith's Dad: I don't even know what that is.

Cameron: In simple terms, the body becomes allergic to itself. The immune system attacks healthy cells in the circulatory system and destroys them.

Keith's Dad: Would it be treatable?

Cameron: It can be managable. (We see Foreman doing the test for lupus.) (voice) We can test for he antibodies. Ninety-five percent of patients with lupus have positive ANA.

Foreman: Not cloudy. Negative.

(Back in waiting room. Again.)

Cameron: What about bruising? Ever complained of tenderness under his arms or groin?

Keith's Dad: I'm not sure he'd tell me if he did. I guess I really don't know what's going on in his life.

Cameron: He's a teenager... (hesitates) What type of cancer did your wife have?

Keith's Dad: (looks like he may vomit) Pancreatic.

Cameron: It's his lymph nodes we're concerned about. (Keith's Dad gives a sigh of relief.) We're going to do a biopsy to check for lymphoma.

(We get a close-up of Wilson poking Keith's armpit area.)

Wilson: 'Kay. Can you feel this?

Keith: No.

Wilson: Good. (cuts into his flesh-ew, ew, ew!)

Keith: I have cancer, don't I?

Wilson: We're just testing.

Keith: That's what they told my mom.

(We now see Wilson, Foreman and Chase in the lab. Wilson is looking into a microscope.)

Wilson: Definitely not cancer.

(House, Wilson and the ducklings are talking outside Keith's room.)

House: Nothing?

Cameron: Nothing.

Chase: Negative for drugs. ANA was negative, gallium scan was clear-

House: Yeah. I got that from the nothing. Where's his hematocrit?

Foreman: Thirteen.

Wilson: Drops any lower he's not gonna have enough red blood cells to bring oxygen to his body. He'll suffocate with his lungs working perfectly.

(House braces the doorframe.)

Foreman: You okay?

Keith: Excuse me someone? Help?

(Ducklings rush in.)

House: Polite for a dying kid. (goes to leave)

Wilson: How long has it been?

House: I'm fine.

(Close-up of Keith.)

Keith: There's something in my eye, up at the top. (gestures to his eye)

Chase: (takes out a small flashlight) Which eye?

Keith: (gestures) This one. What's happening?

Chase: It's alright. Just look down for me. (examines eye) It's clear. (We see that Keith's view of Chase is growing darker.) There's nothing in it.

Keith: It's getting worse.

Cameron: Is it fuzzy or...

Keith: No, it's dark! (panics) I can't see.

(Pretty panning view of hospital.)

(Foreman is examining Keith;s eye with a bigger instrument. We see a big red blob in his eye.)

(The ducklings go into House's office.)

Foreman: It's a retinal clot in the left eye.

Cameron: Coumadin would dissolve the clot, fix his eyesight.

Chase: You can't use blood thinners, he's got internal bleeding. Fix the eye, you'd kill everything else.

Foreman: Well, surgery's out for the same reason.

Chase: We have two hours to figure this out. Either we restore the blood flow or he loses the eye.

(Enter House.)

House: Forget the eye. Tell him to use the other one to look on the bright side. (He honestly looks like he's miserable.) The clot tells us something. It could help us figure out what he has. (Ducklings exchange glances.) Which could mean he gets to live. Differential diagnosis, people. How does internal bleeding suddenly start clotting? (sits down and has his eyes closed)

Chase: It makes no sense, they're opposing processes.

Cameron: It can happen in lupus. Increased platelet count can cause blood clots.

Wilson: (who has just entered and is at the coffee machine) ANA was negative. It's not lupus.

House: This is true. But why are you the one saying it? What are you doing here? I thought we ruled out cancer.

Wilson: I was lonely. (sits down with a newspaper)

House: Well, go see Cuddy, she needs a friend.

Wilson: That's funny, she said you might need one.

House: That's why you're here? She wants you to keep an eye on me, make sure I don't cheat. (gets up and crosses the room so he can wince privately)

Wilson: No, I wanted to make sure you didn't start firing shots from the clock tower.

House: I'm fine.

Cameron: What's going on?

Wilson: He hasn't had Vicodin in over a day.

Foreman: Your leg hurt?

House: Ever been shot?

Foreman: There's gonna be side affects- insomnia, depression, tachycardia-

House: Withdrawal symptoms. Not applicable. The only side affects I'm gonna have are some pain and thirty days of freedom... Am I the only one that's concerned about a dying kid? If it's not lupus, what else?

Chase: Most likely candidate for throwing a clot is infection or cancer.

Wilson: Checked the biopsy twice. It's not cancer.

Foreman: It's not an infection. Gallium scan didn't reveal anything.

House: Okay. What hides from the Gallium scan? (House sees a really fit, hot woman stretching in his office. The others can't seem to see her though from where they're sitting.)

Chase: Cardiac.

Cameron: Right. Clot slips off, travels through the arteries and gets backed up in the eye.

(House continues watching her, looking both confused and amused.)

House: (turns around) I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention. What happened?

Foreman: It's an infection in his heart?

House: Great. (nods approvingly and continues watching the woman stretching) Great. Echocardiogram for the heart and IV antibiotics for the infection, stat. (Ducklings leave and Wilson joins House) Is it my birthday? I'm not lonely! My leg hurts.

Wilson: She's a real masseuse.

House: She's five hundred dollars an hour, minimum.

Wilson: She's hot so she's a hooker? What kind of pathetic logic is that?

House: The envious, jealous I-never-got-any-in-high-school kind o' logic. Hello!

Wilson: She's a legitimate masseuse. Come on. (peers over his shoulder at her) God. She's beautiful.

House: Because she's beautiful, I should do it? What kind of pathetic logic is that?

Wilson: The envious, jealous, I'm-married-and-I-can't-do-anything logic. (Masseuse comes over.) Hello.

House: Hi. Listen, I'm sure you're really good at whatever it is you do but-

Masseuse: Dame su mano.

House: Huh? (Masseuse grabs his hands.) Hey, no. Let go of my hand. Come on-

Wilson: (whispers) She doesn't speak English.

Masseuse: Sssshhhh. (massages House's hands)

House: Ow! Ow. (She adjusts her technique.) Aaahhh... Ahhhh... Oh, my God. Bueno.

Masseuse: Take off your clothes.

(House opens his eyes. The look he has on his face right here is worth a million bucks, I swear.)

(Keith's room. His lunch is sitting untouched on the tray.)

Chase: (checks Keith's chest) Not a fan of the stroganoff?

Keith: I'm not hungry.

Chase: The antibiotics can cause nausea.

Keith: So can the food... Shouldn't you be looking at my eye?

Chase: The blood clot isn't life-threatening. We're focusing on figuring out the cause of your problems.

Keith: So the... the blindness will be permanant, won't it?

(Chase nods.)

(We see House opening the door for the masseuse.)

House: Thank you.

Masseuse: Bye. (exits)

(Chase looks curiously at House.)

House: I had a massage.

Chase: Looks like you had a messeuse! Help the pain?

House: I'm fine.

Chase: I know. Kid's echo was normal, no sign of any vegetations on heart valves.

House: Never met a diagnostic study I couldn't refute.

Chase: And the antibiotics aren't doing anything.

House: So double the dosage. Seventy milligrams.

Chase: That'll box his kidneys for sure!

House: You're right. Save the kidney. The guy we transplant it into will be grateful.

Chase: Also, I have an idea for his eye.

House: Nothing we can do 'bout his eye.

Chase: He's got a clot in his retinal-

House: Put it in a memo.

Chase: If he remove some of the liquid from the eye itself the Vitreous humor, it might make some extra room around the retinal artery.

House: (pauses in thought) If the artery expands, the clot might move on its own. That's very creative. (Chase shrugs.) Why didn't you mention this before?

Chase: I didn't think of it before.

House: You should've.

(Chase walks away, obviously disgusted. House rounds a corner and leans against a cement post and the pain has presumably returned. I guess the masseuse only alleviated the pain momentarily.)

(We see a close-up on Keith's eye and a big honkin' machine is pointed at it. Keith is surrounded by doctors in scrubs. Chase inserts a needle into the white of his eye- ew!)

Keith: This isn't going to hurt.

Chase: Your eye's numb. You'll only feel pressure. (Another needle is inserted and we see a mega close-up of the clot and surrounding area. The second needle is removed and then the first. Chase dabs away tears from below Keith's eye. We see that Keith's eyesight is coming back.)

Keith: I can see. (big smile)

(Keith's room. Pam is sneaking in quietly while Keith is resting. She kisses his hand to wake him up. Awww. Keith removes the patch from his eye and smiles at her.)

Keith: I can see you.

Pam: I heard! Congratulations. (She sounds like she's been crying and her eyes are raw. She leans in to kiss him.)

Keith: Don't. I haven't brushed my teeth is two days.

Pam: (kisses him anyway) I'm so scared there not gonna find out what's wrong with you.

Keith: No biggie. I'm fine.

Pam: I feel so bad about all this. It's all my fault.

Keith: No. No, it's not.

Pam: But your father... He hates me.

Keith: He's just pissed about his car.

(Pam leans in to kiss him again- I love this part- and Keith projectile vomits down her sweater and onto the floor.

Pam: (shouts out the door) Help! Help!

(Keith's Dad and a nurse rush in. Next thing we see is Keith laying in his bed being rolled down the hall surrounded by doctors with Pam and his father on either side of him.)

House: What's wrong?

Cameron: AST is 859. We’re getting him to the ICU.

Chase: ALT and GDT are in the tank. Our antibiotics-

House: Would not have caused this.

Keith's Father: She must've given him drugs!

Pam: I wouldn't do that!

House: (shouts) It's not drugs! (they slow to a halt) His liver is shutting down.

Keith's Dad: What?! What does that mean?

House: Means he's all better, he's ready to go home.

Keith's Dad: (heads in House's direction) What?

House: What d'you think it means? You can't live without a liver- he's dying!

Keith's Dad: What is your problem?!

House: Bum leg, what's yours?

Foreman: (steps in) We don't have time for this! Let's go. (moves Keith's Dad away from House. That's probably a good idea. They continue moving Keith's bed.)

Cameron: His son's dying and you're mocking him?

House: It was a dumb question. (House's eyes look incredibly red. Perhaps someone hasn't been sleeping well? Hmm?)

Cameron: No, it wasn't.

House: ...You're right. It wasn't.

Cameron: Is proving Cuddy wrong worth all this?

(Ducklings are talking in the Diagnostics office.)

Foreman: Y'know, House shouldn't even be here.

Chase: Because he said something inappropriate? If we sent him home every time he did that, we wouldn't need this office.

Cameron: He's in pain.

Foreman: What does the man have to do to piss you off?!

Cameron: He's been without pain relief for seventy-two hours!

Foreman: Exactly! He's detoxing! Can't you see he's out of his mind?!

(I love this next line.)

House: That's what they said about Manson. (comes around the corner and into the office) Do you want to continue talking about me or should we discuss what the liver damage tells us. (Nobody says anything.) I was born in a log cabin in Illinois-

Cameron: Hemolytic anemia doesn't cause liver damage. Add the fact he's coughing blood, you've got the three indicators of organ-threatening lupus.

House: It's moving too fast. Could be Hepatitis-E.

Foreman: There's only been one case of Hep-E originating in the US since-

House: Its history. Since he's been in and out of the country four times in the last year.

Cameron: You really think he's got Hep-E?

House: No. I think lupus is way more likely.

Cameron: Alright. Then let’s start him on IV Cytoxan and plasmapheresis. (gets up)

House: No. We should rule out Hep-E.

Foreman: You just said it wasn't Hep-E.

House: I said lupus is way more likely but if we treat for lupus and it is Hep-E...

Chase: He's toast.

House: Exactly.

Cameron: But there isn't a treatment for Hep-E. Either he'll get better on his own or he'll continue to deteriorate.

House: Yeah. I went to medical school, too. Start him on Solumedrol.

Cameron: If he's got Hep-E, it's only gonna make him worse!

House: Not as much. Goldilocks, people. Won't hurt him so much that it'll kill him and it won't hurt him so little that we can't tell. It'll hurt him just right. And if it does nothing-

Chase: We'll know it's not Hep-E and can start treating for the lupus.

House: Now watch me do it while drinking a glass of water.

Foreman: What'll we tell the dad? We think your kid has lupus so we're gonna treat him for Hepatitis-E and, oh yeah, if it really is Hep-E, we're not actually giving him Hep-E medication. So, it's gonna make it worse, not better?

House: Think he'd go for that?

Cameron: So you want us to lie?

House: No. I want you to lie.

Cameron: Why me?

House: Because he trusts you.

(Ducklings walking quickly down the hall towards the elevator.)

Cameron: This is a mistake.

Foreman: This is a law suit.

Chase: Hep-E is possible. House always pulls these stunts and he's right more often than-

Foreman: He's delaying treatment because of a one-in-a-million chance that he doesn't even think is the problem.

Cameron: I don't wanna lie to him.

Foreman: Than don't.

Cameron: And get fired?

Chase: Like he's gonna fire you. He loves you.

Cameron: I've gotta do something. (gets on elevator) Kid needs treatment.

Foreman: Treat him for lupus.

Chase: That will get you fired.

Cameron: (to Foreman) Really think House is losing it?

Foreman: Tsk. Yeah. (leaves)

Chase: He's fine. He knows what he's doing. (leaves; Cameron looks jaded and pushes the button and the elevator door closes)

(We see House alone in his office. Let's just say he's looked better. His eyes are red and his breathing his heavy. He truly looks dismal, miserable and pathetic- finally, a use for that thesaurus I bought.)

(House picks up a marble pestile and lets it drop on the table. He bangs it on the desk a few times and then- WHAMMO! He slams it down HARD on his hand. He exclaims a slur of pain and starts laughing a little bit.)

(We're just outside Keith's room now.)

Cameron: We're recommending a drug called Solumedrol.

Keith's Dad: For Hepatitis? Did that show up on his blood tests?

Cameron: (hesitates) The tests are never one hundred percent accurate.

Keith's Dad: Well, then all the other tests could be wrong too and it could still be an infection or cancer.

Cameron: They don't... fit any of the most recent symptoms.

Keith's Dad: Well, what, just Hepatitis does? (Cameron opens her mouth but nothing comes out.) I know, I know, I know. Can never be sure. When... Linda was in the hospital, the doctor told us there was this aggressive experimental treatment which might extend her life by two or three years. We figured that if there was any hope at all that we could have her with us a little while longer it'd be worth it. (He has tears in his eyes now.) Three weeks later she was gone.

Cameron: (after a long pase) I don't think it's Hepatitis. I think your son has lupus.

(We now see Wilson looking at some X-rays of some very sexy hands. Oh- look at that! They're House's! Can't House read his own X-rays?)

Wilson: I think it's broken. What'd you do?

House: Accidently closed the car door on it.

Wilson: No. Door would've broken the skin. This looks like something hard and smooth smashed it.

House: I want my lawyer.

Wilson: The brain has a gating mechanism for pain. It registers the most severe injury and blocks out the others. Did it work?

House: Well, my hand hurts like hell. Yeah. I feel much better.

Wilson: Huh. (rifles through supply drawer)

House: Don't splint it. I wanna be able to bang it against the wall if I need to administer another dose. Just tape it up.

Cuddy: (who has just entered) (to House) Why did you tell Cameron to lie to Mr. Foster?

House: (to Wilson) Make it tight.

Cuddy: Answer me.

House: (to her) Nothing I say is gonna change how you feel. And nothing could come out of your reaction that could change what I plan to do so I prefer to say nothing.

Cuddy: So, that was just you saying nothing.

House: Uh-huh.

Cuddy: The guy is furious.

House: And scared.

Cuddy: So, what are you gonna do? The father's insisting on the lupus treatment.

House: Yeah. Cameron told me and I told her to tell him no.

Cuddy: Well you can't just sit back and let the kid die.

House: And neither can the father.

Cuddy: So that's your plan? You're gonna play chicken with the kid's life?

House: Well he's the dad. I should win easily.

Cuddy: (stares at him angrily- I'm actually surprised there are fireballs erupting from her eyes) Take the week off.

House: What, 'cause I lied to a patient? I take risks. Sometimes patients die. But not taking risks causes more patients to die so I guess my biggest problem is that I've been cursed with the abilty to do the math.

Cameron: (comes in) I told him that we wouldn't treat him for the lupus until-

House: What'd he say?

Cameron: He said he wanted to transfer Keith to another hospital.

Cuddy: He's not stable enough. He'd never make it through the door.

Cameron: That's what I told him.

House: And that's when he caved.

Cameron: (very annoyed-sounding) Yeah. (big sigh) He agreed to do it your way.

House: (to Cuddy) Two plus two equals four.

(Back in Keith's room with his father at the end of the bed, Chase on one side and Cameron on the other.)

Chase: If it is Hepatitis-E, we should see a marked decline in liver function tests within the hour.

Keith's Dad: Why bother explaining it to me? It's not like I have any choice in the matter.

Cameron: If there's no Hep-E, we'll start treatment for lupus immediately.

Keith: (looks down at his chest) Ouch.

Chase: Keith? What's wrong?

Keith's Dad: What's happening?

Keith: (he starts rubbing his stomach) No, get off.

Chase: Keith? It's Dr. Chase. Where does it hurt?

Keith: Jules, no! (pushes at his stomach more frantically)

Cameron: He's hallucinating. (tries to stop him from freaking out)

Keith's Dad: Is this from the medicine?

Chase: We haven't started the medicine yet. (tries to help Cameron calm Keith down)

Cameron: ...You're in the hospital, there's nothing on you.

Keith's Dad: Keith? Keith? Keith! (Keith stares at his father and he calms down suddenly.) Hey. You okay, buddy?

Keith: (looks at them wide-eyed) I think I wet the bed.

Chase: Don't worry about it. It's fine. Let's get you up.

(They begin to roll him out and under him there's a giant pool of dark red blood.)

Keith's Dad: Oh, God!

Cameron: He's had a major bleed. Bright red blood per rectum.

Keith: I didn't mean to. I'm sorry... (his eyes roll back in his head, passes out and his moniters start beeping wildly)

Chase: He's going into hypervolemic shock. Pressure's sixty, heart rate's one-forty.

Cameron: We need an angiography stat!

(Panning shot of hospital- they seem to use quite a few of those- and we see Keith's Dad sitting beside Keith in his room. Keith is asleep. We get a close-up of a vial of blood- he is obviously getting a blood transplant)

(The team are in the Diagnostics office.)

Foreman: Angiography revealed major upper and lower GI bleeding, severe hemodynamic compromise and liver failure.

Chase: He's also hallucinating, thinks he's being tortured by someone named Jules.

Cameron: Hallucinations are a symptom of psychosis which is the forth diagnostic criterion. It's official. This is lupus.

House: (in a very dreary-sounding tone) Who's Jules? (Nobody says anything) Any mention of her in the medical history?

Cameron: It doesn't matter what he's hallucinating about, it matters why! It's lupus!

House: There's no need to get snippy. This kind of lupus takes years to get to this point. It's been a week.

Cameron: Yeah. And a sixteen-year-old shouldn't have hemolytic anemia or be bleeding out of every orfice but he is. We had an opportunity to treat this. Instead we diddled around with Hepatitis and now it's too late. He needs a new liver. We screwed up!

House: You're saying I screwed up.

Cameron: ...Yes.

House: Than why don't you just say that.

Foreman: You gonna blame this on her?

House: Did you agree with my recommendation to treat for Hep-E?

Cameron: No, I didn't.

Chase: And she made herself quite clear.

House: And then she went and lied to the father. That's why you're angry.

Cameron: Yeah. I trusted you.

House: You always trust me. It's a big mistake. (Cameron looks like she might burst into tears.) Lupus is a bad diagnosis.

Chase: It's the best diagnosis we've got.

House: It doesn't make it good.

Foreman: No. It just makes it this kid's only chance to live.

House: ...Put him in the transplant list. And make sure Cuddy knows, see if she can get him anywhere close to the top. (He hobbles off to his office while Cameron and Chase leave. Foreman follows House into his office. He walks in to see House vomiting in the garbage.)

House: (looks up at him) Cafeteria. Stay away from the sushi.

Foreman: And what happened to your hand?

House: Got stuck in a drawer.

Foreman: Yeah, right. You're going through withdrawal.

House: No, I'm going through pain. Pain causes nausea.

Foreman: (big sigh) I took this job to work with you, not cover your ass. (he sets a pill bottle on the desk) Your Vicodin.

House: (he gazes at it lovingly) And your solution is to give me drugs. It's interesting.

Foreman: No. Now I'm covering my ass. Take your pills before you kill this kid. (He exits and House cracks the bottle open and pours all the pretty Vicodin onto the desk. He picks one up, with a very shakey hand... but we don't see him take it- or put it back in the bottle.)

(We're back in Keith's room- again- with Chase and Cameron and Keith's Dad.)

Cameron: Lupus is normally treated with medication but in Keith's case the disease is to advanced.

Keith's Dad: Because you lied. Because House wanted to play games with my son's life

Chase: There's no way to really tell what progression the disease may take-

Cameron: You're right. And I'm sorry.

Keith's Dad: So what d'we do?

Cameron: He needs a new liver.

(We switch to Foreman following Cuddy into her office.)

Cuddy: There are over fifteen thousand patients on the transplant list.

Foreman: But how many are about to bleed to death unless they get a new liver?

Cuddy: In Jersey I'd say, uh, twenty. Two thousand patients die each year because a donor liver can't be found. That's almost five a day.

Foreman: So we're screwed.

Cuddy: (sigh) I'll see what I can do.

(Outside of Keith's room. Again.)

Keith's Dad: Could I donate part of my liver?

Chase: Sorry, you're a different blood type.

Keith's Dad: So we just wait?

Cameron: I'm afraid so.

Keith's Dad: And hope for someone to die.

House: (drags himself into the hall) Who's Jules?

Cameron: (glances at Foreman) Dr. House, you should get back to your office-

House: Jules. There's no Jules in the history.

Chase: It was a hullucination.

House: Of what?

Keith's Dad: (who has been watching his son from the glass window) Our cat. Does this matter?

Foreman: No, I'm sorry. We'll continue the transfusions and the treatment for the anemia and liver failure while we're waiting for a donor.

Keith's Dad: How long can he wait?

Chase: Not long.

House: (hobbles closer, looking half-asleep and close to death) I don't think this is lupus.

Cameron: It's lupus. Come on, let's just go-

House: Your forth diagnostic criterian of lupus is psychosis. This is just a kid missing his cat.

Chase: He was being attacked by an animal that wasn't in the room! That's psychosis!

House: There's a difference between psychosis and hullicinations.

Foreman: So if he was imagining a fake cat it’d be lupus but since it was a real cat it’s not? Take your damn pills.

House: Psychosis requires-

Keith's Dad: There's no cat! Jules is dead.

House: You have a dead family pet and you never mention it. Nice family history.

Cameron: Family history is asking about family members, meaning people related to the patient. Let's go.

House: How did the cat die?

Keith's Dad: Can you get him out o' here?

Cameron: Dr. House, come on, let's go-

House: What happened to the cat? (House walks past Pam sitting on a bench nearby.)

Pam: Old-age. (She stands up and comes over.) She was fifteen years old.

House: When?

Pam: About a month ago.

Keith's Dad: Does this have anything to do with-

House: Where'd she sleep?

Pam: With Keith.

Cameron: This is not a cat allergy.

House: It's not lupus. Where is Jules?

(We now see Foreman and Chase digging up the grave of Jules the Cat. You know what they say- doctors by day, grave robbers by night. No, wait. That's not right...)

Foreman: Four years of college, four at med school, two years residency, another four sub-specialty training and where do I end up?

Chase: Talking instead of digging. Come on, the ground's frozen solid.

(They stab the ground with their shovels. Stab, stab, stabbity stab. They scrape the top of the wooden coffin.)

(Next we see House, still with shaking hands, performing an autopsy- or "necropsy" since Jules is a cat and not a person- on the cat corpse. Ew. At least the thing isn't too decomposed. We see Cameron peering in at him as he does this but he doesn't see her and continues.)

(We then get a shot of a cooler being brought into the hospital.)

Cuddy: Out of the way! (on her cellphone) We have the liver. Prep OR 4. (gets on elevator with the cooler)

(Back to House, still working on the dead cat. He pulls out a tiny cat organ and sets it aside. He examines a little red lump that apparently isn't supposed to be there.)

(We then see Keith being put under anaesthesia in the OR.)

Anesthesiologist: Alright, Keith. Start counting backward from ten.

Keith: Ten... Nine... Eight... (and he's out cold. The anesthesiologist gives the okay.)

Surgeon: Scalpal. (He is just about to cut when House enters.)

House: Stop the gases.

Surgeon: What the hell are you doing House?!

House: Saving a sixteen-year-old from a lifetime of immunosuppressant drugs and a very nasty scar. This kid doesn't have lupoid hepatitis. He has acute naphthalene toxicity.

Surgeon: Naphthalene. You-you-you're talking about mothballs.

House: Nope. Termites. (holds up tweezers that are holding a termite) They creative naphthalene to protect their nests, which I'm assuming is rather large and inside all four walls of his bedroom and home. (puts tweezers down on sterilized surgery tool table)

Surgeon: And your assumption is based on what?

House: The autopsy I just conducted on his pet cat.

Surgeon: (to OR nurse) Call Cuddy. And security.

House: We're not removing that kid's liver.

Surgeon: (to nurse) Now!

(House, in blunt terms, hocks a giant loogie and spits it out on the Surgeon.)

Surgeon: HAVE YOU COMPLETELY LOST YOUR MIND?!?

House: No, but I have been feeling a little sick lately. (He grabs a towel from a nearby nurse and fakes a sneeze in Keith's direction. He tosses the towel down and leaves.)

Nurse: There's no way we can do this surgery now.

Surgeon: YA THINK?!

(Hahaha. Funny, angry surgeon.)

(We get a shot of the hall.)

Foreman: You've already cost him his liver, don't kill him too.

House: Why are you so eager to cut into a healthy kid?

Chase: Healthy?! He's in the toilet!

House: He just needs some chicken soup.

Chase: I'm telling Hourani to re-scrub. We're doing this transplant. (Ooh. Sassy!)

House: No, you're not!

Chase: You said it! If Keith's symptoms had an environmental cause, they would have disappeared as soon as he here.

Cameron: They've only gotten worse.

House: If the food here wasn’t one step below Riker’s Island he would’ve gotten better. He’s lost fourteen pounds.

Foreman: Yeah, sure, this is nothing but a dietary thing.

House: Naphthalene is a gas, a fat soluable gas. Kid breathes it in, it gets stored in his fat cells. Outside the hospital his body burned protein and carbs for energy and the naphthalene stayed in fat. But once the car accident put him in the hospital- and he started losing weight- (cool CGI thingy of the evil green Naphthalene- I didn't even mean for that to rhyme- pouring out of his fat cells) his body had to get its energy somewhere else. It started to burn fat. The floodgates opened, the poison poured into his system.

Foreman: So getting away from the poison is what poisoned him?

House: Getting away from his dad's meatloaf if what's killing him.

(Starts down hall and we see Cuddy and Keith's Dad, both looking anot amused, coming his way. Uh-oh!)

Cuddy: You wanna explain to me why you stopped the surgery?

(Keith's Dad walks briskly up to House and punches him in the jaw. Ouch! House sits the wall and the team restrains Keith's Dad.)

Cuddy: Oh, my God!

Keith's Dad: I want him LOCKED UP!

Chase: (holding him back) Hey!

Foreman: (also holding him back) Take it easy.

House: (touches his lip and sees it's bleeding) Your cat did not die of old age. He died of massive internal bleeding and acute liver failure caused by Naphthalene poisoning, the exact same thing your son has.

Keith's Dad: You lie to see, you mess up my son's surgery and now you expect me to trust you?

House: Give me twenty-four hours. We'll pump your son full of calories-

Cuddy: That liver is going to somebody right now.

Keith's Dad: We're doing that surgery.

House: (gets up) If you do the surgery, you'll be kiling a mother of four.

Cuddy: (rolls her eyes) Father of three.

House: I was guessing.

Keith's Dad: Like you are now?

House: Naphthalene poisoning is the best explanation we have for what's wrong with your son. It explains the internal bleeding, the hemolytic anemia, the liver failure... It also predicts what’ll happen next. If you do the surgery, he’s gonna lay on that table for fourteen hours while his body continues to burn fat and release poison into his system. Either way, I did you a favor. He’s awake now, you’ve got a chance to say goodbye.

Cameron: ...I think you should trust Dr. House.

Keith's Dad: (after a long, pregnant pause) Give the liver to the other guy.

(Cuddy nods and goes to make the call.)

(We're now in Keith's room- at his house, that is. We see Chase removing a poster from the wall. Foreman walks up to the bare wall with a sledge hammer, knocks on the wall to check for a stud, looks at Chase for reassurance and smashes a hole in the wall. You know what they say- doctors by day, home invaders by night. Wait. That's not right... Foreman shines a flashlight into the walls and we see many, many, many little tiny termites. Gross!!)

(Back at the hospital with a dramatic camera pan of the hospital grounds. We join Cameron, Pam, Keith and Keith's Dad in the hospital room.)

Cameron: INR is down and his blood-count is climbing. (smiles at Keith's Dad who looks unsure) Means you made the right call. His liver's healing. He's gonna be just fine.

(Keith's Dad cradles Keith's head and Cameron exits. Pam takes Keith's hand.)

(We see House and Wilson in the hall. House is looking much better today!)

Wilson: You made it a week.

House: And won my prize.

Wilson: Congratulations.

House: Cuddy's a sucker. I woulda done it for two weeks off.

Wilson: Yeah, it was a piece o' cake. Learn anything?

House: Yeah. I'm an addict. (opens the door to his office and enters)

Wilson: (enters) Uh... okay.

House: I'm not stopping.

Wilson: ...There are programs. Cuddy would give you the time. You could get on a different pain management regiment-

House: I don't need to stop.

Wilson: You just said-

House: I said I was an addict, I didn't say I had a problem. I pay my bills, I make my meals, I function.

Wilson: That all you want? ...You have no relationships.

House: I don't want any relationships.

Wilson: You alienate people.

House: I've been alienating people since I was three.

Wilson: Oh, come on! (he really sounds peeved!) Drop it! You don't think you've changed in the last few years?

House: Of course I have! I've gotten older, my hair's gotten thinner, sometimes I'm bored, sometimes I'm lonely, sometimes I wonder what it all means!

Wilson: No, I was there! You are not just a regular guy whose getting older. You've changed! You're miserable and you're afraid to face yourself-

House: (bangs his cane on a radiator or something) Of course I've changed! (Eek. House is scary when he's angry. He then looks slightly apologetic.)

Wilson: ...And everything's the leg? Nothing's the pills? They haven't done a thing to you?

House: They let me do my job and they take away my pain.

(Wilson rubs his neck, obviously thinking, and leaves.)

(We then see Wilson at the nurse's station, flipping through a file, and Cuddy joins him.)

Cuddy: How'd it go?

Wilson: He admitted he's addicted to the narcotics.

Cuddy: Well, admitting you have a problem is-

Wilson: And he says it's not a problem. (Cuddy frowns.) Maybe it's not! What do I know? (Wilson picks up his suitcases and starts off.)

Cuddy: What are y'gonna do?

Wilson: Nothing. Done enough damage.

Cuddy: Better hope he never finds out that that was your idea.

Wilson: He’d never believe it. (they leave)

(We then see House sitting in his office- stones, perhaps? LOL- with "Feelin' Alright" playing. I love that song!)

THE END

Season 1 X 10 : Histories

Original Airdate: 2/8/2005
Written by: Joel Thompson
Directed by: Daniel Attias
Transcript by: prettyannamoon

BEGINNING

[“Jane Doe” walks up to a house in a run-down looking neighborhood. Music is playing inside; a bouncer stands by the door.]

Jane Doe: Hi. Sounds like a good party.

Bouncer: 20 bucks.

Jane: Okay. No problem, I, ah, I just got it in here somewhere. [rummages in purse] Oh god, I’m - I’m sorry, I guess I must have forgotten to go to the machine.

Bouncer: Yeah, and ah, brush your teeth. Lady, you don’t have two cents.

Jane: I can - I can get it from - from my friend who’s inside, he can give it to me and then I can bring it back out here to you. [During this, a shot of her wrist, which is twitching]

Bouncer: You don’t know anybody here.

Jane: Yes I do! James, he’s blonde and he’s really friendly and he’s a big talker. [on verge of tears] I need to see him.

Bouncer: [pauses, seems to feel sorry for her] Go on in.

[Inside the house music is playing, strobe lights are flashing, people are dancing. A tall girl and a short girl seem to take special note of Jane.]

Jane: [wanders through rooms, stops by a door in the yellow wall] James? James? James?

Tall Girl: [obviously high] Hi.

Jane: Do you know where James is?

Tall Girl: Oh yeah, he’s, he’s around here somewhere.

[Strobe lights flash; Jane seems mesmerized. We take a CG trip past Jane’s eyes and into her central nervous system, which is sparking like Chevy Chase’s Christmas lights]

Tall Girl: Let’s go find him.

[The previous lines echo strangely in Jane’s head as the girl leads her through the house.]

Jane: Where is he?

Tall Girl: [Grins at Short Girl as she passes by. She shows some pills in her outstretched hand, then pops them in her mouth.]

Jane: I really need to find him

Tall Girl: [stops and kisses Jane, moving the pills to Jane’s mouth in the process]

Jane: [spits pills out] What are you doing?

Short Girl: Bitch! [She shoves Jane into a wall. Jane falls to the floor and stays there.]

[A CG trip through her ear shows Jane’s sparking nerves again. Cut back to blurred shots of party from floor level. Sirens wail, sounds of the party being raided.]

Jane: NO! She’s trying to help me… get off her! [Policeman 1 grabs Jane] Get off me!

Policeman 1: Settle down! [Jane falls limp]

Policeman 2: [to Policeman 1] Move!

Policeman 1: Geez, I didn’t touch her.

Policeman 2: Great. Now we gotta go to the hospital.

[Credits]

[Wilson and Foreman are walking down the hospital hall.]

Wilson: Homeless. Admitted 24 hours ago with a suspected drug overdose. Her tox screen’s clean, but she’s still delusional.

Foreman: Homeless, usually means crazy; no money. Cuddy’s not going to like this –

Wilson: [interrupts] We’re a teaching hospital. No ID. Doesn’t even seem to know her name. I got called in because of some lesions on her arm.

Foreman: Homeless always means no roof, at least, there’s too much sun

Wilson: The lesions were non-cancerous, but I noticed a twitch. Her wrist.

[Cut to Jane lying in hospital bed, wrist twitching. Foreman is poking her finger on the opposite hand. Wilson stands in the background.]

Jane: Mmph

Foreman: You feel that?

Jane: Sure. I’m human.

Foreman: Make a fist around my fingers, tight as you can. Squeeze.

Jane: [grasps weakly] I am.

Foreman: Right. [nods] All right. Raise your arms above your head for me.

Jane: [raises arms halfway] Oh… [arms drop, starts seizing]

Wilson: [rushes forward] She’s seizing. Get me some Ativan.

Foreman: She doesn’t want to be discharged. She’s manipulating me.

Wilson: [holds up Jane’s arm, it snaps back and hits her face] It’s real. Check her finger sticks.

Foreman: Blood sugar’s 38. [nurse rushes in]

Wilson: I need D15. IV push stat.

[Cut to Foreman and Wilson walking down the hall toward the nurses’ station.]

Wilson: Fake low blood sugar. Now that’s acting.

Foreman: The blood sugar was real. But she’s probably diabetic. OD’d on her own insulin. [to nurse at desk] I need 2032. Do you have her effects out here? [to Wilson] Look, a seizure buys her a place to sleep while the nice doctors run their tests, maybe a few free meals. [nurse places bag on counter, Foreman look at it] $20 says there’s insulin in here. [Foreman opens the bag, makes face and turns away because of stench] Oh… put this back, please.

Wilson: What about the twitch?

Foreman: Her arm moved.

Wilson: Why fake a twitch? In case the seizure was too subtle? A twitch could indicate a tumor, which could indicate–

Foreman: [interrupts] A need to see a neurologist, which is why you called me. Keep an eye on her until 2:00 PM, watch her blood sugar, give her a nice hot lunch, and discharge her.

Wilson: [sighs and nods]

[Cut to Wilson, catching up with House in the hallway.]

Wilson: He’s wrong

House: Foreman is wrong? The neurologist is wrong, about a neurological problem?

Wilson: He took one look at her and figured it was a scam.

House: So, you figure he’s not being objective

Wilson: [exasperated] House, the woman had a twitch. She had a seizure.

House: Both of which Foreman saw?

Wilson: He just wanted her out the door!

House: Whoah, whoah, whoah, back up there, big fella. Foreman’s the guy you want to take a swing at.

Wilson: [frustrated sigh] I - just - want her to get some medical attention.

House: [starts to look interested] That’s not even close to being true. Something else. Something personal. [pauses] Give me the file. Looks like this will be fun.

[Cut to conference room]

Cameron: The twitch could be a mini-seizure, unrelated to the diabetes.

Chase: Brain tumor? [Foreman enters]

House: Glad you could join us, Eric. What’s the differential for a twitch in the wrist?

Foreman: The patient’s a thirty-ish Jane Doe. I just thought I’d discharge her. [glares at Wilson]

Wilson: [glares back] Well, she’s my patient. No harm in a second opinion.

Chase: A blow to the head? A subdural hematoma?

Foreman: Read the file, no evidence of cranial trauma.

Cameron: A twitch could indicate a brain tumor

Foreman: Or about a dozen other things. Come on, there’s two things homeless people are good at – getting sick, and running scams. If you’re so worried about it being a brain tumor, get her an MRI, when she’s clear on that, then you can bounce her out of here.

Wilson: Well, you’ve got her all figured out.

Foreman: [flips open a magazine] I’ve known a lot more homeless people than you have.

Wilson: Yes, you’ve got that going for you. How could I have doubted your medical opinion?

House: The big question, you’re missing it, all of you. [He drops Jane’s smelly bag on the table.]

Foreman: Oh, geez.

House: Who is she?

Foreman: Okay. Why are we on this case – just because Wilson asked?

Wilson: [opens mouth in protest]

House: Do I need a better reason?

Foreman: Most people wouldn’t, you do.

House: [dumps contents of smelly bag on table, everyone turns away in disgust] The only thing we know for sure about Jane Doe is that her name isn’t Jane Doe. Which means no medical history. Allergies, medication, previous diagnoses, treatment – we have no baseline, no context for medical treatment.

Foreman: [holds up a needle] Wow. Looks just like insulin. [looks at Wilson]

House: [holds up a sweater] Vomit. Still moist. [sniffs] What do you think - a couple of days old? [puts it in Chase’s face]

Chase: Uhhh… trying to make me hurl?

House: Yeah. And here’s the big finish… [licks fingers]

Cameron: [muffled noise, as if about to be sick]

House: Salty. Chemical imbalance.

Wilson: Low magnesium could cause a twitch.

House: Or high calcium. Or it’s a coincidence. The point is, we don’t know anything.

Foreman: [exasperated] So do the MRI. Find out –

House: The MRI can wait. Hang a banana bag, give her 24 hours to correct the electrolyte imbalance, we’ll take it from there.

Wilson: Great. Thanks. [nods and leaves]

[House and Foreman exchange glances, Chase and Cameron leave.]

Foreman: Okay. Even if she’s not faking, what’s so fascinating about this case?

House: At the moment, how much you don’t want me to take it. That’s pretty fascinating.

[Cut to Jane’s hospital room. She’s sketching a picture of Foreman and herself, with a bubble over his head that reads ‘Where’s James’. Chase is attaching the banana bag, while Foreman does something in background]

Chase: Nice likeness of Dr. Foreman. In fact, he’s never looked better.

Jane: [glances at Foreman] He doesn’t like me. I can tell.

Chase: That’s okay. He doesn’t like me either. Who’s James?

Jane: [reaches for face] Ow! Oh!

Chase: Pain in your head?

Jane: [thrashes about, knocking away lunch tray] Get away from me.

Foreman: [racing forward] All right, let’s get it out. One milligram of Ativan, push.

Jane: NO! NO! NO! NO! [bites Foreman’s arm as he reaches across bed]

Foreman: She bit me!

Chase: Good news is, she’s negative for HIV and hep-C.

Foreman: Yeah? Well, I’m getting a tetanus shot, she’s getting an MRI.

Chase: There’s a two day wait for non-emergency MRIs.

Foreman: She’s getting an MRI. And then she’s out of here. [leaves room]

[Cut to nurses’ station, where rich looking patient with awful hair is waiting in a wheelchair]

Angela: Now Dr. Terharg specifically said I’d have the MRI at 10:00, it’s almost 11:00, and I haven’t even had the pretest yet.

Nurse: Sorry, we’re a little backed up.

Patient: Uh!

Foreman: [walks up, looking at slip of paper] Excuse me, you’re Dr. Terharg’s 10:00?

Patient: I’m Angela Whitney. I’m meeting my decorator at 11:30, she’s coming all the way from New York. Dr. Terharg promised I’d be home in time.

Foreman: Of course. [He wheels the patient away, trading a slip of paper with one Chase is holding as he walks past in the opposite direction, wheeling Jane]

[Jane is just going into MRI as Foreman and the technician watch on. Cuddy walks up behind them.]

Cuddy: She’s just about prepped for her MRI? Mrs. Whitney?

[MRI shuts off abruptly]

[Cut to Cuddy’s office, where House and Foreman sit waiting. House is examining a letter opener on Cuddy’s desk.]

Cuddy: [enters] You tried to steal someone else’s test?

Foreman: Dr. Terharg is a plastic surgeon. The woman was getting a six-month checkup on a chin implant.

Cuddy: [grabs letter opener from House] I can’t believe you authorized this.

House: Really? Sounds exactly like something I’d do.

Cuddy: She can’t have an MRI. The CT scan shows she has a surgical pin in her arm, the MRI magnet would have ripped it out of her body. You like the Alien movies? You had no medical history, what were you thinking?

House: We’ll surgically remove the pin, then do the MRI, does that sound good?

Cuddy: She has an electrolyte imbalance.

House: Dr. Foreman, a neurologist, believes this woman has a brain tumor.

Foreman: Actually, I –

House: [glares at Foreman] Hey, don’t ever apologize for a medical opinion. [to Cuddy] If he’s right, we don’t do this test, the patient dies. Now I realize that you have a specialty of your own, but does yours have anything to do with the brain? [nods at Foreman] His does.

Cuddy: Fine. But nothing more until you find out who she is.

Foreman: How are we supposed to –

House: Hey! He knows more homeless people than any of us. [Cuddy and Foreman don’t look amused] Go check out the ‘hood, dawg.

[Cut to one of Jane’s sketches of a storefront, which fades into the real thing. Foreman is showing Jane’s photo to a homeless man.]

Homeless Man: I don’t know. I’ve seen a lot of faces around here but I don’t think I know her.

Foreman: Great.

Homeless Man: Hey, I ah, like that jacket. Yeah, it’s all coming to me now. I know where she keeps her stuff.

[Cut to homeless man putting on Foreman’s jacket. Foreman starts to lift the tarp covering the box where Jane has been living. Bats screech and fly out at him. He backs away quickly.]

Homeless Man: Just bats. [Foreman looks at him incredulously. The homeless man looks down at his new jacket.] I thought the lining would be thicker.

[Foreman carefully lifts the tarp with a long piece of metal. No more bats fly out at him. The only things in the box are a few blankets and a thick, rather nice looking portfolio.]

[Cut to Foreman walking into office. Chase and Cameron are waiting.]

Cameron: No tumor, nothing. Her brain is clear.

Chase: Which means, that girl had surgery just so you wouldn’t get reamed out by Cuddy.

Wilson: [enters] Not necessarily, there could still be something neurological going on.

Foreman: Sure, she’s not conning us, the MRI is.

House: [enters] Not wearing a coat in this weather. That is so wrong.

Foreman: She drew these. [laying several hand-drawn comic books out on table] They might give us a clue.

House: [picks one up] She sign them? Her name would be a start.

Foreman: All the mythology, the locations, they’re all dependant on life experience.

House: [holds up comic book and looks at it] Philadelphia. Look at that skyline! It’s very evocative. The Chrysler Building.

[The ducklings move in to see that House is looking at a picture of a slightly surreal looking desert landscape.]

Foreman: That’s a cloud.

Cameron: And the Chrysler Building’s in New York.

House: Mmm… I’m getting Philly. And that cactus, well, that’s a smashed car – car accident.

Cameron: [doesn’t sound convinced] A cactus in Philadelphia?

House: Water – well, water’s October, right?

Wilson: Obviously.

House: On the page number 22, so that’s October 2nd, 2002. Ergo, the patient was in a car accident two years ago last October.

Wilson: [quite calmly] My goodness! Was she okay?

House: [squints] Broke her arm, I think. They fixed it – with this. [holds up metal pin]

[Ducklings look relieved to have an explanation.]

House: Surgical pin. Better than a wallet. Serial numbers in case of recall, tied to a patient’s name.

Foreman: That’s why you insisted on the MRI. So you could remove the surgical pin from her arm.

House: You didn’t think I was going to do it to save your sorry ass, did you? [sounds of a fax coming through] You might want to take a look at that. Her name is Victoria Matson, at least that’s the one she used then. Any hospital with the record of treating her should be sending that information.

Foreman: [looks at fax] Oh, crap!

[Cut to the ducklings racing down hall.]

Foreman: Her blood work came back an hour ago, magnesium was normal.

Cameron: Did you change her banana bag?

Foreman: Stopped the magnesium, started iron dextran for severe anemia. [throws up hands] She’s allergic to iron dextran!

[The ducklings rush into Jane-now-known-as-Victoria’s room. All sorts of things are beeping; Victoria is gasping for breath.]

Chase: [to Cameron] Grab some Epi off the code cart. [checks pulse] Respiratory arrest, call the code!

Foreman: [to Victoria] You have an allergic reaction, can you speak? [Victoria continues to gasp]

Chase: She’s not getting any air. Got the Epi. [is handed it, gives Victoria shot in arm]

Cameron: Stats down in the 80s and dropping.

Chase: We have about another minute. [attaches oxygen mask]

[Wilson watches from outside the room]

[Cut to a close up of Victoria’s sketchbook. Her hand twitches, but she seems stable.]

[Cut to the conference room]

Foreman: Well, we got her sedated and stabilized.

House: And we still think there’s nothing wrong with her?

Foreman: Well, nothing’s changed.

House: We almost killed her – that’s different. And we know who she is.

Cameron: So far we’ve heard from three hospitals with records of Victoria Matson. Seven visits, going back two years.

Wilson: Any home addresses?

Cameron: The pin in her arm went in during an ER visit. She wasn’t conscious, so they didn’t get an address. The other visits she gave fake addresses.

Wilson: Any treatment for neurological problems, anything that might explain the twitch?

Cameron: Last winter, Jefferson Hospital in Philly, got treated for frostbite.

Foreman: Baby, it’s cold outside.

Cameron: And depression. They put her on Prozac.

Wilson: Well, I’d be bummed out too. Zero degrees, living in a box.

House: Put her back on it. She cheers up; she might stop biting people

Chase: There’s a billing record from Hartman Hospital last year. Two appointments, ultrasounds, doesn’t say what for.

Foreman: Pregnant?

Chase: Only if she was expecting an elephant. The appointments were ten months apart. Kept the first, blew off the second.

Wilson: Abdominal pain.

Foreman: The chart doesn’t say –

Wilson: [interrupts] Wait a minute. She goes in the first time, they look, they can’t find anything. Ten months later, why should she subject herself to that again?

Foreman: Why make a second appointment?

Wilson: She didn’t. The nurse made the appointment. They were looking – they were looking for ovarian cancer.

Chase: [snorts]

Foreman: You got all of that from one cancelled appointment?

Wilson: With Jerry Lousing, yeah. He’s an oncologist.

Chase: Hang on, her current blood work doesn’t show cancer. CA125 is normal.

Foreman: And the cancer wouldn’t account for the alleged twitch, or any other of her alleged symptoms.

House: Actually, it would. Neoplastic Syndrome associated with the cancer could cause her to twitch like a bunny on crystal meth. Ultrasound her ovaries.

[Cut to Cuddy and House walking down hall toward the clinic.]

Cuddy: Did you find a brain tumor on her MRI?

House: No. Foreman was wrong. I’m starting to wonder about that guy’s medical chops.

Cuddy: Right. [stops at clinic waiting room] Shelley Diamond?

Shelley: [A lady holding one child and surrounded by others looks up] Yes?

Cuddy: Dr. House is ready to see you now. [hands House the file]

Shelley: The little ones are licking each other again, and Harry’s got a seeping wart on his extra toe. What room should we go to?

House: [fake sneeze] You know, I think I might be coming down with something. Hate to give it to you guys. Sorry. [starts walking toward exit]

Cuddy: Oh yeah. Just walk out, like I’m not going to do anything.

House: [turns] Bye-bye. [keeps walking]

[Cut to House in office with feet propped up on desk. He’s flipping through the pages from Victoria’s portfolio, which have been put together to form a comic book. Foreman enters.]

Foreman: Working hard?

House: This stuff’s pretty good. Calendrica, works for the counseled genius. Bad guy’s Mr. Fury, fairly generic, no special skills, but apparently very well organized. Think you work hard, try ruling the universe.

Foreman: You trying to teach me something here?

House: We’ve got the flowing dress, the ring. Think the patient was married? Maybe it was a bad break up, maybe he dumped her cause she was on drugs.

Foreman: You care about her personal history?

House: Nope. Question is, why don’t you? [Foreman looks away] I hate to cite a cliché, but – Dad on the streets?

Foreman: [short laugh] Dad’s with Mom.

House: They’re both living on the streets?

Foreman: No! On a pension.

House: So who pissed you off?

Foreman: Pfft. Right now, you.

[House sets aside the comic. Cut to House and Wilson strolling down hall]

House: Your turn, you gonna tell me why this case?

Wilson: She’s my new girlfriend, I’m having a tattoo designed, I was hoping you could find out her name.

House: So she’s just another sick person the kindly Dr. Wilson has made sure doesn’t get lost in the big ugly system.

Wilson: Yes, I forgot, I need a reason to give a crap.

House: You’re giving two craps.

Wilson: The metric system always confuses me.

Cuddy: [walks up with two college-age girls wearing lab coats] Dr. House.

House: Time for Girl Scout cookies already?

Wilson: Get me some Thin Mints. [turns and leaves]

Cuddy: Since you’re too sick to work in the clinic –

House: [makes big show out of stifling pretend sneeze] Okay.

Cuddy: – I thought you –

House: [huge, loud sneeze]

Cuddy: - I thought you could do some teaching. Patient histories.

House: My specialty.

Cuddy: When you teach, you learn so much, don’t you think?

House: It’s all about the giving back. [Cuddy walks off, House turns to students] Good old Cuddy. Always thinking. She assign you a patient to interview? [reaches for pills]

Students: Mmmhmm.

House: Then why are you still here?

[Students have looks of dawning realization, turn to go. House pops Vicodin.]

[Cut to Cameron and Chase in Victoria’s room. Cameron is smearing jelly on an unconscious Victoria for an ultrasound.]

Chase: Why are we on this case?

Cameron: Because Wilson asked House to do him a favor.

Chase: I think House just wants to prove she’s sick so Foreman will be wrong.

Cameron: [with a sigh] Oh, you boys.

Chase: Hey, I’m just doing my job. [looks at ultrasound] Whoah. [pauses] Foreman’s going to be so embarrassed when he finds out she’s got cancer.

[Cut to House, sitting in clinic looking at files. Wilson enters.]

Wilson: Oh. I thought you were too sick to be down here.

House: Had to get away from those students so I faked a page. [flips through file] Foreman’s parents, happily married, 40 years.

Wilson: Mazel Tov.

House: Keinahora. So, why does he hate homeless people? If it’s an uncle or a grandparent you’d think he’d use it in his college application essay. Family struggles beats a 4.0 GPA any day.

Wilson: I think he had a 4.0

House: Maybe he’s just a snob.

Wilson: You really don’t need to know everything about everybody.

House: I don’t need to watch The OC, but it makes me happy.

Wilson: Yeah, delirious. What’s the other file?

House: Wilson, James. Boy wonder oncologist. You know him?

Wilson: You know, in some cultures, it’s considered almost rude for one friend to spy on another. Of course, in Swedish, the word friend can also be translated as ‘limping twerp’.

[House’s pager starts to beep]

Wilson: Did your pager really just go off, or are you ditching the conversation?

House: Why can’t both be true? Come on.

[Cut to the team checking out Victoria’s sonogram.]

Wilson: Solid non-cystic mass on the left ovary. Five by three centimeters, central necrosis. The only question is whether she dies in two months or three.

Foreman: Oh, God.

Wilson: You were right. There’s nothing we can do for her here. Might as well put her back on the street.

House: Unless it’s not cancer.

Chase: Oh, you’re joking.

House: Well, hard not to – nothing funnier than cancer. But what if it’s a tuberculoma. She’s living out on the streets, breathing all kinds of crap 24/7. The odds are she’s got TB, why can’t she have a nice benign growth to go with it?

Wilson: A solid mass on her ovary. Ovarian cancer’s way more likely.

House: You’re right. It’s not even close. Start her on INH, Rifampicin and Streptomycin.

Cameron: But that’s the treatment for a tuberculoma.

House: And what is the treatment for advanced ovarian cancer?

Foreman: Pine box.

[Cut to Victoria’s hospital room. She’s sketching Foreman, who is standing nearby.]

Victoria: What are you giving me?

Foreman: A second dose of some antibiotics. If you’ve got a tuberculoma, it should help.

Victoria: I don’t have a tuberculoma, do I?

Foreman: [sighs] Probably not.

Victoria: [looks back down at her sketch]

Foreman: Listen – I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.

Victoria: I’m sorry I lied to you. I took too much insulin on purpose; I really wanted a place to sleep.

Foreman: [nods and looks down at sketch.] Were you ever – married, Victoria? [Victoria shakes her head] But in the comic –

Victoria: No, it’s a comic, comics are just made up.

Foreman: So who’s James? Is he real, or did you make him up?

Victoria: He’s real.

Foreman: Can I help you find him?

Victoria: [looks up at Foreman, then turns to window] The – the light’s bright – it’s getting brighter – [holds up arms to protect face] – ow, ow!

Foreman: Take it easy, take it easy, everything’s fine.

Victoria: Mr. Fury wants to hurt me, please, help me!

Foreman: Wait, wait, wait, hold on… [grabs thermometer and puts it in Victoria’s ear]

Victoria: – turn it off – please turn off the –

Foreman: [looks at thermometer, which reads 105] All right, hold on Victoria. [rushes over to close blinds and turn off light] Take it easy, everything’s fine. Take it easy, everything’s fine, Victoria.

Victoria: I’m burning! It’s burning!

Foreman: [gets glass of water] Hold on. Take a sip, take a sip.

Victoria: [knocks water away] It’s poison, you gave me poison!

Foreman: [grabs needle] Hold on. Take it easy.

[A nurse rushes in and flips on light switch]

Victoria: [screams]

Foreman: Hey, turn off that damn light!

Victoria: Help me, help me, please!

Foreman: [injects her] Take it easy, take it easy. The bad guys can’t get you here, I’ve got you covered.

Victoria: [wails] Mr. Fury’s not the bad guy, I’m the bad guy, it’s me, I’m the bad guy…

[Cut to House, sitting at desk in office. Foreman enters.]

Foreman: It’s not a tuberculoma. Can’t be.

House: I didn’t know the biopsy was back.

Foreman: Her temperature’s 105. Treatment’s not working, it’s cancer. She’s dying.

House: [leans back in chair] 105…

Chase: Good news! It’s a tuberculoma.

Foreman: How do you figure that? Her temp’s through the roof.

Chase: [holds up paper] It’s the lab results from the biopsy, it’s definitely a tuberculoma.

House: [looks at test results] So – we’re right about the diagnosis, and the treatment for that diagnosis is killing her. Perfect.

[Cut to conference room.]

Chase: The lab checked the biopsy again, twice.

Foreman: Well, a tuberculoma doesn’t give you a temperature of 105.

Chase: Then it’s a tuberculoma and something else.

Wilson: [enters] The something else is gonna to melt her brain.

House: Poach. Better metaphor.

Chase: A fever that high has to be bacterial.

Wilson: Maybe the bowel got nicked in the biopsy.

Foreman: I did the biopsy – no nick! She could have picked up an infection on the streets.

Wilson: Well, she didn’t have a fever when I admitted her!

Cameron: The Prozac we’ve given her could have triggered Serotonin Syndrome, which would explain the fever.

Wilson: [interrupts] No! Jefferson put her on Prozac, and it wasn’t a problem.

Foreman: She probably never took it! Most likely they saw her one time and dumped her out of the ER with a script.

Wilson: Oh, just like you were going to do!

House: [turning to face them] Okay you two, grab some scalpels and settle this like doctors. Send blood and urine cultures and get a chest x-ray. And fine, take her off Prozac and put her on Bromocryptin for the Serotonin syndrome.

Chase: Might want to get her in an ice bath as well, assuming we want her to live long enough to see those test results.

[Cut to nurses pouring buckets of ice into a metal tub. Victoria lies nearby on a stretcher.]

Victoria: I said I was sorry.

Foreman: Your fever’s 105. If we don’t bring it down fast –

Victoria: [interrupts] Foreman, why are you doing this to me?

Foreman: We’re saving your life.

Victoria: [gibbers and cries]

Foreman: Hey, come on – you can do this.

[Nurses pick Victoria up and put her in the ice bath. She screams and wails as though the ice is killing her]

Victoria: [looks at Foreman, wails] Ple-ee-ease!

[Cut to aerial view of hospital, then to House’s office. He’s reading Victoria’s comic book. The two med students are standing in front of him.]

Student 1: 17 year old female presents with abrasions and apparent trauma injury to her wrist – Dr. House?

House: Continue.

Student 1: You’re reading a comic book.

House: And you’re calling attention to your bosom by wearing a low-cut top. [looks up] Oh, I’m sorry, I thought we were having a state-the-obvious contest. I’m competitive by nature.

Student 2: I thought you were supposed to be listening to our patient histories

House: Nope. I’m supposed to be teaching you. If I can do that without listening, more power to me.

Student 2: 17 year old female –

House: [interrupts] This guy’s supposed to have universal power over all of gravity; how come his hair won’t stay down? That’s just stupid.

Student 2: – she fell off her horse while riding in the county fair.

Student 1: No, she didn’t, she fell off the steps of her beach house, you must have gone to the wrong room.

House: Hard to believe that one patient could slip past Cuddy and get herself admitted with a sprained wrist. Two seems almost impossible - what room?

Students: Room 2106 [the girls look at one another]

House: Patients lie. But usually only one lie at a time; how much does she weigh?

Student 1: It’s her wrist not her –

House: Poundage, ladies, and by the by, what color is her nose?

Student 1: She’s thin –

Student 2: Flesh toned.

Student 1: What does this have to do with her wrist?

House: [pager goes off] Almost nothing. She’s either under 90 pounds, or she has a red nose. I gotta go.

Student 1: What’s wrong with her?

House: That would be telling. [looks at students and smiles] Oh, I am just too nice. It starts with ‘C’. [drops medical dictionary on desk as he leaves]

[Cut to conference room, where team is assembled.]

Chase: Urine cultures are negative.

Cameron: So’s the chest x-ray.

House: I assume there’s a positive coming.

Foreman: Lumbar punctures revealed elevated proteins and white counts.

Wilson: CSF cultures?

Cameron: Still growing. Nothing on Gram Stain. It looks like meningitis.

Chase: We know it’s definitely an infection. And we know where it is.

House: Well, meningitis is nice and simple. Get her in isolation and start her on Ceftriaxone. Either she gets better or she dies. [ducklings walk toward door] Let me know which one happens!

[Cut to the Ducklings entering Victoria’s room. They stop as soon as they enter, they notice Victoria is missing. The sheets are rumpled as if she made a hasty exit.]

Cameron: Oh my God. She was sedated.

Chase: It must have worn off.

Foreman: I – I did it myself, a half hour ago.

Chase: I’ll check the nurse’s station. [leaves]

Foreman: [looking at the wall] Calendrica.

[Foreman and Cameron walk over to the wall, where Victoria has drawn several comic panels, one of a character wandering down a city street crying ‘James’.]

Foreman: She’s gonna die out there.

[Cut to Cuddy’s office.]

Wilson: You don’t walk out of a room with ten milligrams of Haldol in your system, you don’t walk at all.

Foreman: It was ten milligrams, I gave it to her –

Cuddy: [interrupts] It doesn’t matter! Bacterial meningitis, highly contagious, if she is out of the hospital, we are so liable.

Wilson: Not to worry. She’ll be dead before she can kill anybody.

Chase: Security tape confirms it, she stole some clothes and she’s gone.

[Foreman grabs a coat and heads toward the door.]

House: Wrong coat. The cape’s in the closet, I had it cleaned.

Foreman: Funny.

House: You gonna save her?

Foreman: In her comics, Mr. Fury lives in Sloan Harbor. The night she came in, she was at a rave at 1408 Sloan Street.

House: You’ve been reading. My, how you’ve changed.

Cuddy: You are a doctor; do what doctors do. Pick up the phone, dial 911 and a cop on the other end does what cops do and finds the missing person! [House raises eyebrows, Foreman takes off coat] I assume the rest of you have doctor things to do – [looks at House] I know you do.

[Cut to House walking down the hall, med students trailing behind him.]

Student 2: Cacchi-Ricci disease.

House: Do you even know what that is, or are you just guessing everything that starts with ‘C’?

Student 2: The kidney problems could result in weight loss.

House: Cacchi – C-A-C- she’s going alphabetically.

Student 1: Doctor, why are you wearing that bird pin?

House: It sets off my eyes. [smiles and enters room with patient] Hi, Jodi, I’m Dr. House. What brings you to the hospital?

Jodi: My wrist.

House: How did that happen?

Jodi: I was riding the Ferris wheel and this huge seagull flew right at me. [The camera pans from the Ferris wheel on the back of House’s clipboard to the bird pin on his jacket.]

House: How horrifying.

Jodi: I swung my arm at the bird, but I hit the Ferris wheel.

House: [turns to students]

Student 2: She’s making it all up?

House: No, her wrist really does hurt.

Jodi: I’m not lying.

House: Of course you are. You have no idea what happened. You have no memory. [House exits room with students] Korsakoff’s syndrome. Her brain is damaged by excessive drinking or insufficient diet; pretty obviously the latter. She has no new memories, no new ideas, can’t even process that idea. So her brain fills the gaps as best it can using visual clues. The horse on your shirt led her to the riding accident and the surf scene on your clipboard led her to the beach.

Student 2: Korsakoff doesn’t start with a ‘C’.

House: I didn’t say ‘C’. Or did I? Lesson to be learned – treat everybody as if they have Korsakoff’s, we all lie anyway. Give her Thiamine right away, she’ll bounce back pretty quickly. And then get her to eat some cake and ice cream.

Student 1: [opens mouth to speak]

House: Yes?

Student 1: Did you need to be so cruel? I think she’s crying.

[House goes back into patient’s room, Student 2 raises eyebrows at Student 1.]

House: Hi! Jodi, I’m Dr. House. What happened to your wrist?

Jodi: There was this weird old guy, he had a cane –

House: See? It’s like it never happened. Perfect forgiveness.

[Cut to Emergency Room doors slamming open, EMTs wheeling Victoria in on a stretcher.]

EMT: Pulse is rapid.

Foreman: You got a temp?

EMT: Don’t know. She’s warm, but –

Foreman: That’s something to look into; she has meningitis.

EMT: Sorry, I was more worried about her heart blowing up. Pulse is 150.

Foreman: Rhythm regular?

EMT: Yeah.

Foreman: Ready – one, two, three. [They move Victoria from stretcher to gurney.]

Foreman: [to policeman] Where’d you find her?

Policeman: Battlefield State Park.

Foreman: {something} Narrow Complex? She wasn’t at Sloan?

Policeman: She was just passed out on the grass.

Victoria: [mutters] Foreman… I need Foreman.

Foreman: All right. Super ventricular tachycardias. Get me Adenosine, one milligram, push. Thank you. [He gives her the injection] Hang in there. [He looks back and forth between monitor and Victoria while she stabilizes]

[Cut to conference room]

Foreman: Her arrythmia stabilized.

Chase: It doesn’t make sense. What would push her heart rate over 150? Dehydration? Fever?

Cameron: Unlikely. By themselves, neither one would do it.

Foreman: We must be wrong about the meningitis. Maybe it’s structural heart disease.

House: Her heart rate dropped when you administered the Adenosine.

Foreman: Two seconds.

House: It’s still meningitis.

Foreman: If it is, with the delay in treatment, she’s got almost no chance.

House: Start the treatment. [leaves room]

[Cut to House and Policeman standing outside the nurses’ station.]

Policeman: [flipping through notepad] Read the report. I found her lying on the grass.

House: You should read my reports. I make up stuff all the time. What really happened?

Policeman: Oh, since it’s you… I found her lying on the grass.

House: Wow. That is a great looking gun. [close up on policeman’s belt]

Policeman: It’s not a gun. It’s a taser.

House: It’s so cool looking. What does it do? Fire about 60,000 volts? At least, that’s what it would take to jack someone’s heart up to 150s.

Policeman: Okay. Okay. Let’s just say I tell you what happened. [leans in] This stays between you and me, right? I found her. Lying. On the. Grass.

House: Fine. [reaches into jacket] Don’t tell me. Tell my friend, Ben Franklin. [holds up $100 bill, then sets it on the counter] I watch a lot of cop shows.

Policeman: [stares]

[Cut to Victoria lying in bed, unconscious. Foreman is checking her heartbeat]

House: The good news is, the heart rate thing’s not connected to her condition.

Foreman: Well then, she’s dying. The meningitis treatment isn’t helping her, she’s getting worse.

House: Well, that brings us to the bad news. The cop tasered her.

Foreman: [derisive snort] Jerk. Probably couldn’t get to his real gun fast enough.

House: The first time he hit her in the thigh, and she just kept going, like it was nothing. Right about here. [He marks the spot. Victoria doesn’t move; House pokes her with a needle.] She didn’t feel the taser. [pulls down sheets and pokes her toe]

Foreman: Localized numbness?

House: Yeah, in that one spot.

Foreman: The diabetes?

House: I don’t think so. [takes swab of Victoria’s mouth]

Foreman: No alcohol. Not entrapment syndrome. Can’t be a vitamin deficiency. We can’t chase down every sensory neuropathy.

House: Is that where she bit you? [close up of Foreman’s bandaged forearm]

Foreman: Yeah.

[Foreman looks back at Victoria, House jabs him. Foreman doesn’t feel it, but turns back to see a needle sticking out of his arm]

Foreman: What the hell?!

House: Can’t get angry if you don’t feel anything.

[Cut to lab, where House is putting the swab in to test. Team is standing by, anxious.]

House: First there’s localized numbness, then sensitivity to light, disorientation, paranoia, ineffectiveness of sedatives, and then hydrophobia. Fear of water. [machine starts up]

Foreman: Rabies.

Chase: There’ve only been, what, 20 cases in the last ten years?

House: Yeah. That’s because non-homeless people, when they get bitten, they get shots.

Foreman: There were bats.

Wilson: [closes eyes, machine beeps]

Cameron: [looks at test results, draws in breath, looks up without a smile]

Wilson: She’s dying.

[Everyone is silent]

Chase: There’s no treatment.

Cameron: [quietly] How much time does she have?

House: A day, maybe two. [turns to Foreman] And if you don’t get your shot in, say, the next three hours, I’m going to have to make another affirmative action hire.

Wilson: [to Foreman] Come on.

[Cut to Foreman lying on table, Wilson getting ready to give him rabies vaccine]

Foreman: [sigh] Do it. [Wilson sticks needle into Foreman’s stomach] Mmmph.

Wilson: You want me to talk to her?

Foreman: And say what? There’s some experimental treatment, but it’s not gonna work. Don’t worry, we can make you comfortable? Doesn’t matter how. She’s gonna die.

Wilson: Yeah. That’s what you say to her. Keep that there and rest for a minute.

Foreman: Mmm… [gets up]

Wilson: Whoah, whoah, whoah!

Foreman: Tell House I need to go out for about an hour.

Wilson: She may not have that long.

Foreman: I don’t want her to die alone.

Wilson: [putting it together] You’re going to find James.

Foreman: I’m gonna try.

[Wilson nods and follows him]

[Cut to a drawing of the interior of a house with sunny yellow walls and a sweeping staircase. The camera pans up from Victoria’s comic to reveal the present day interior – gray and abandoned. A police siren echoes in the backgorund]

Wilson: Well, I must say – he’s done a lot with the place.

[As Foreman and Wilson walk through the rooms, the viewer starts to realize that this is the same house where the rave at the beginning of the episode took place.]

Wilson: [shouts] Hello?

[Foreman comes to the door Victoria stopped by earlier. He looks down at her drawing and sees the same door.]

Foreman: [to Wilson] Hey – this is it.

[They force open the door. The room is full of cobwebs.]

Wilson: Man, no one’s been in here for a long time.

[Foreman holds up the drawing for Wilson to see. The second panel shows a box on a shelf. They look up to see it before them. Cut to Foreman and Wilson leafing through pictures of a happy looking Victoria and a smiling man.]

Foreman: This has got to be James. Maybe there’s another address.

[Wilson opens an envelope and reads the contents.]

Wilson: It’s not James. [hands over marriage certificate] Paul. Paul Furia.

Foreman: Mr. Fury.

Wilson: Her husband.

Foreman: Then who’s James?

Wilson: [looks up slowly, and hands Foreman some papers from the envelope] Her kid.

[Foreman looks down at a picture of a baby. There’s another one of Victoria, her husband, and their tiny blonde son. The picture cuts to the time the photo was taken. Victoria and her family stand in the sunny yellow foyer of their home.]

Victoria: Oh, I just want to eat you up. You’re so delicious.

[She kisses the baby’s hand again and again. Her husband stands next to her with his arm around them both. ]

Victoria: Aw, look at me, you’re just like your papa. Look at you. Just like your dad.

Wilson: [interrupts, bringing the shot back to the present] Foreman. Foreman. [pauses] They’re dead. [hands over newspaper clipping] That car crash two years ago – she broke her arm… and they were killed.

Foreman: She was driving.

[Fade back to Victoria, on her side in a hospital bed. Foreman sits down behind her and grasps her hand. Her eyes open slightly]

Victoria: James.

Foreman: No. It’s Paul.

Victoria: You’ve come to take me.

Foreman: No. I’ve come to forgive you. [Victoria’s breath catches and her eyes start to tear] It wasn’t your fault.

Victoria: [sobs] I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry.

Foreman: I know. It’s okay Victoria. It’s okay.

[A close up of their hands fades to a shot of Wilson sitting on a street corner. Wilson lets out a sigh. House appears.]

Wilson: Oh. [sounding perturbed] You followed me?

House: No. You were wearing rain boots today, but you were parked in the underground garage, so the only reason you’d need boots was if you were hitting the streets… I followed you.

Wilson: Didn’t we have a conversation about friendship?

House: Yeah. I had some follow up questions. I’ve met your parents, and your brother –

Wilson: I have two brothers.

House: Why wouldn’t you tell me –

Wilson: It was irrelevant.

House: Why not?

Wilson: Because he’s not in my life any more.

House: Well, that’s relevant.

Wilson: [draws breath] This was the last place I saw him, nine years ago. I don’t even know if he’s alive.

[Shot pans out to show the full street corner, rolled down grates over windows, burnt-out street lamp, and all. A homeless man wanders by.]


END