House (2004–2012): Season 2, Episode 16 - Safe - full transcript

6 months after a teenage girl crushes her chest in a car accident and receives a heart transplant she goes into anaphylactic shock in her clean room bedroom after her boyfriend almost kisses her and discovers something on her arm.

- It's almost 11:00.
- She needs a lot of sleep these days.

Please, Mrs. Bardach,
I haven't seen her for a week.

- I'll see how she's feeling.
- Thank you.

You know what to do.

- All done?
- Yeah.

I scrubbed for 45 seconds,

did the nails, all the way down
to the elbows, the whole deal.

- Are you sick?
- No. No, no.

- Cough?
- No.

- Sore throat?
- No, no. I just, I just...

Sometimes I sneeze when I look
at lights. I always have.



- I'm sorry, you better...
- I would never get her sick. Please.

A mask.

- Got me by the bouncer.
- She's crazy.

She's let me out like six times
in the last two months.

Every time's just to go to the hospital.
I'm a prisoner.

It's okay.

- It's ugly.
- No.

I wasn't looking at the scar anyways.

Take off your mask.

If your mom comes in here, she...

Hey. Give me a kiss or I'll kill you.

Your skin... Are you okay?

Melinda, can you...

What's wrong? What's wrong?
Can you breathe?



What's wrong? What's wrong?
Is it your heart?

What's wrong? Mrs. Bardach!

Melinda, Melinda,
I don't know how to use this.

I've never used one of these before.

What did you do to her?

Cuddy called.

I know. I saw the caller ID.

Young girl, anaphylactic shock.

You answered?

Turns out,
that's what stops the ringing.

It's a weird case.

I thought you did the dishes last night?
It was your day.

I did. Those are new. Midnight snack.

For a midnight snack,
you made a pot roast,

the same pot roast I made last night.

Yeah.

Actually, it was after midnight.
Today's your day, right?

You want me out of here. I get it.

- No, it's fine if you stay.
- The place I was gonna move,

the guy never called.
Otherwise I'd already be there.

- I said it's fine if you stay.
- Yeah.

That's why you're making me miserable.

Maybe I just wanna make sure
you do your fair share around here.

- That...
- What's weird about it?

The girl with the allergies.

Yeah.

- She's immunocompromised.
- What are you doing?

- What? You asked me...
- You knew that I was interested.

That gives you
a valuable bargaining chip.

You could've had me doing dishes
for a week.

Okay.

The allergic reaction happened
while she was in a clean room.

Why does she have a clean room
in her home?

Heart transplant.
Immune system's in the toilet.

So Mommy builds her little angel
a John Travolta-quality bubble.

Six months after the transplant.

She doesn't need to be confined
to a clean room.

Six months without putting out,

Dr. Cuddy doesn't need to wear
thong panties, but it's not our call.

I was wondering when you'd get
around to my panties.

She's had four days of workups.

They've tested everyone who came
anywhere near that room,

everything in the room.

It's like an Agatha Christie mystery.

Maybe it's not what was there,
it's what she was doing.

Exercise allergy. Love it.

What sort of exercise
could a strapping young man

and a nubile teenage nymphet possibly...

Mom was in the room within seconds.

So the boyfriend brought in an allergen
and is lying about it.

Or the girl snuck out,
and she's lying about that.

Or the parents are lying about the
room being clean.

These are your big ideas?
Somebody's lying?

Hasn't let me down yet.

Recheck Mom, Dad, the girl, the boy,
the room and the home.

Any of you have a new soap, a detergent,
perfume?

No, no. Barbara's really careful
about that stuff.

And you haven't been outside recently?

How could I? I'm trapped up there.

You're not trapped. It's just safer...

They won't even tell me the alarm code.
Just tell her I can go back to school.

Until we clear this up...

Fine. Find out what I'm allergic to,
and I'll stay away from it.

Then I can go back to school, right?

It's up to your parents,
but, medically, there's no reason...

Told you.

Could I speak to you outside
for a second, please?

You know, this is hard enough
without you in there...

- She asked me my opinion.
- She is 16 years old. Lie to her.

When I was eight, my mom, she hated...

I know. I need to loosen up.
I'm overprotective.

I saw Finding Nemo. I get it.
I don't need another story.

But you're not
just being overprotective.

You're one of the most overprotective
parents I've ever seen.

She has the best private tutors.
I let her friends visit.

I'm not going to apologize.

Just giving you my thoughts.

She almost died
three times during her childhood.

- Penicillin, bee stings, peanuts.
- I've seen her file.

Six months ago, we leave her home alone
for the first time on a weekend.

She goes out, buys one chocolate chip
cookie. Peanut butter in the dough.

She's forgotten her EpiPen.
She drives to the hospital,

passes out, has an accident.
Steering wheel crushed her chest.

She ended up losing her heart.

So when you say to me that

I'm one of the most overprotective
parents you've seen, please,

please introduce me to the ones
who were more protective

so that I can find out
what they're doing right.

She's allergic to having
a sucky social life.

Give the parents a break.
They're just trying to keep her healthy.

Everything in here's
labeled "Hypoallergenic."

Check it anyway.

Cameron.

This place is cleaner
than her hospital room.

No alarm on this window.

That's a 20-foot drop.

You can get to the tree from here.
There's some bark scraped off.

Sure, heart-transplant girl swung down
there on a vine.

Maybe she was hooking up with Tarzan and
Cheetah down by the elephant graveyard.

Or Jane stayed in the tree house,
and Tarzan came up.

Okay, I spent most of the night, Friday.

But if her mom finds out about that,
she will totally freak.

You guys had sex?

Yeah, but, you know,

I did everything I could
to make sure she wouldn't get sick.

Latex allergy?

What do you mean, like a condom?
We didn't...

You had unsafe sex? The whole "unsafe"
thing didn't tell you something?

Yeah, but, I mean, look. We didn't,
like, plan on it, you know? It just...

I don't know. We're in love.
We've been dating for two years.

Practically a lifetime.
How about a semen allergy?

We're gonna need a semen sample.

You can use the bathroom over there.

- Right. How do I...
- Aim and shoot.

And no thinking about Dr. Cameron.
We'll know.

- We should tell her parents.
- Why stop there? Call the cops.

Melinda's a minor.

And if we nip it in the bud here,
teenagers will never again have sex.

The parents will find out
when they get the bill anyway.

So you're fine with them finding out as
long as you don't have to tell them?

Pretty much.

Too bad it's not you giving the sample.
We'd be done by now.

Test was negative. No semen allergy.

Boyfriend sneaks in to get his freak on
the night before the anaphylaxis.

- I don't buy that it's unrelated.
- He loves her.

He did everything he could to make
sure she wouldn't get sick.

What does that mean?

Love is an emotion certain people
experience, similar to happiness.

No. Maybe I should give
a more relatable example.

Oh, snap.

What did he do to protect her,
Brillo Pad his privates?

- I assumed he washed and he...
- Oh, good work.

Assumptions are so much faster
than actual questions.

You the boyfriend?

- I need to borrow you.
- What is going on?

Don't worry. I'll return him
in roughly the same condition.

Did you take anything to stay healthy?
Something stronger than an apple a day?

Is he okay?

He's just tired from being in a coma
so long. What'd you take?

- Don't worry. He can keep a secret.
- Right...

Antibiotics? Penicillin?

Any of those names ring a bell?

Yeah. My friend Elliot, his dad had,
like, a whole bottle that

he hadn't finished, so I swiped it
and took a bunch for, like, a week.

I mean, there's no way I was gonna risk
breathing germs on Melinda.

This is the one downside of teenage sex.
You're idiots.

You almost killed your girlfriend.
She's allergic to penicillin.

What, do you think there was still some
on my lips? I brushed my teeth.

Think lower and more fun.

- I mean, it can go through your stuff?
- Totally, dude.

There's this administrator here,

whenever she gets sick,
she just gives me the prescription.

But, you know, they tested Melinda.

They said she wasn't allergic
to my stuff.

Yeah, four days later.

By that time the penicillin was crusting
up a sock at the bottom of your hamper.

Do you have to tell her it was my fault?

No.

Great part of being a grownup,

you never have to do anything.

You're releasing her? What happened?
What did you find out?

Tests on your house ruled out
any environmental allergens.

Yeah, but what caused this?

We believe it's highly unlikely
that this set of circumstances

- will repeat itself.
- What set of circumstances?

It's good news. She's healthy.
But you might wanna talk to...

Cameron!

I can't breathe.

Getting the epi.

Give her the shot!

No murmurs, no friction rubs...

- What are you waiting for?
- Quiet.

She's coughing up white sputum.

Crackling two-thirds of the way up.

Look at her neck.

Please, she is vomiting.
Would you give her the shot?

It's not an allergy. It's her heart.

What's the good news?
What's the bad news?

Congestive heart failure.

Is which?

- Good news.
- Why?

I don't know. It just sounded like you.

New puzzle piece, always good news.
What's the bad news?

We've got two puzzle pieces
from two different puzzles.

Seems that way.

What if her anaphylaxis
wasn't anaphylaxis?

Toxicity from the anti-rejection meds
could cause a seizure

and then heart failure.

And get cured by a mommy-wielded
EpiPen? It's anaphylaxis. What else?

What if they really are two puzzles?

You think she had two unrelated
rare conditions in one week?

- We explained the anaphylaxis.
- What do you mean "we"? I did.

At least I thought I did.
Maybe I didn't. Still, it was all me.

And heart problems aren't so rare for
someone who's had a heart transplant.

I say we assume House was
right about the anaphylaxis.

It is tempting.

Heart failure could be either infection,
coronary disease, or rejection.

Sorry.

There's a reason they call it
the whiteboard. It's not my rule.

What ties
both these conditions together?

Okay, we can all stare at each other,
or we can investigate

what caused the heart failure.
Just the heart failure.

You wanna give me that black marker?

There's no fever,
so it's probably not infection.

Or no fever because she's been
on immunosuppressants

for the last six months.

Let's do a CT,
get a heart biopsy, and then redo...

- Anything?
- Not yet.

So I hear you don't want
teenagers having sex.

Teen suicide rate
isn't high enough for you already?

I think those two are brats. The girl
undercuts her mom any chance she gets.

Yeah, it's the daughter's fault. Nothing
to do with Mom infantilizing her.

Good point. Explains why parents
who don't pay attention

get such nice, well-adjusted children.

What's this?

- You think it's vegetation?
- Yeah.

The kind made of muscle
that opens your heart valves.

It's nothing. She's clean.

It's good news.

You don't show any signs
of coronary artery disease.

So what's next?

Well, blood work to rule out infection,
and then a heart surgical biopsy

to rule out rejection.

But you don't think you're gonna
rule out both things, do you?

No.

I'm gonna lose this heart, right?

Hopefully we'll find the problem
and fix it.

- You'll keep your heart a long time.
- How long?

There could be drug breakthroughs that
allow you to keep it for decades more.

Yeah. That's the answer
my cardiologist always gives me.

I looked it up on the web.
It's like five or 10 years, right?

That's about the average.

That's why I need to have a life.

Why can't you convince my mom
to let me go back to school?

Melinda, you've got bigger worries right
now than missing school.

Until we figure out what's wrong
with your heart,

the safest place for you to be
is right here.

Where's...

the hooker, I assume?

Right up here, buddy.

You said you'd hang the stethoscope
if you were having sex.

I didn't say it had to be
with another person.

Can you think of anything that would tie
together anaphylaxis and heart failure?

No. I was waiting out there for hours!

Yeah, well, I need a lot of foreplay.

And then there's
the cuddling afterwards.

Any way that anaphylaxis isn't
anaphylaxis even if it responds to epi?

No. Oh, no wonder you were in the mood.

This month's New Jersey
Journal of Cardiology.

Have you seen the centerfold?
There's no way those valves are real.

Any chance that the heart failure
could be unrelated to...

No. If you need time alone to work,
you just have to say so.

- You don't have to lie about it.
- Lying's more fun.

Being lied to... Not as much fun.

Please have an answer to this question.
What's for dinner?

You still haven't done the dishes?

You want one of these?
I think I got a couple of blueberries.

Oh, nope. Sorry, just one.

Well, don't look all weepy.

You got a problem with me, deal with it.
Short my sheets or something.

Biopsy was negative
for rejection.

Thank God.

- And what about the blood tests?
- Showed no infection.

So we still don't know what caused
her heart failure.

Let's just be happy
she doesn't need a new heart.

Mrs. Bardach, it could have just been
a one-time thing.

So she has an allergic reaction
and heart failure,

and neither of them can be explained.

- Are they doing any more tests on her?
- No.

She's not here.

Notify local hospitals, cab companies,
the state troopers, and local cops.

Any security officers off duty
are back on duty.

We're on it.

And I'm gonna need some pictures.
And go through those drawers.

And I want at least two people
going over the surveillance tapes.

Will that work?

- Are those all her clothes?
- Yeah.

She's obviously still in the building.
So where did she go?

- What does she want?
- See her boyfriend?

She didn't take her phone.

She wants to be outside.

If you're trying to scare your parents,
great job.

Can we go back now?

I hate her.

When I was eight years old, I was sick.

Not really sick, but the point is,
my mom, she could...

She was like this before.
Home by 9:00 every night.

Can't go out on the weekends.
Can't do sports.

Transplant just gave her
what she always wanted.

Melinda, you had heart failure.

This is kind of an insane time
to be criticizing your mom

about being overprotective.

I know. I mean,
this is what makes it even worse.

All of her craziness,
it just...

It makes sense now.

Everything's gonna be all right.

I didn't even try to get outside.

- I was too scared.
- Come on.

Whoa, whoa, Melinda.
Please walk back towards me.

Why?

Please.

It feels kind of weird.

It's called steppage gait.

- Is it serious?
- Not necessarily.

All right. Stick your leg out.
Hold it up.

She was under anesthesia for the biopsy.
If she lost oxygen...

CT ruled out brain damage.

Put your leg down. Relax.

Why is her leg twitching like that?

- Fasciculation.
- Is that serious?

It's paralysis, and it's ascending.

She's gonna lose the use of her legs?

To start with.

It's ascending fast.
She can hardly extend her leg now.

At this rate, it'll be up to her lungs
in a matter of days.

So, anaphylaxis, heart failure,
paralysis.

We couldn't put the first two together.

I'm guessing we can't put
all three together.

Tick paralysis? Could also explain
the anaphylaxis, maybe even the...

Penicillin allergy explains
the allergic reaction much better.

Particularly because tick paralysis is
usually accompanied by a tick.

We did two comprehensive physicals
looking for insect bites.

Can we put any two of those together?

How about we stipulate?

You argued that there must be
something to connect all three symptoms,

you mocked us for not figuring it out,

and finally you let us discuss
the paralysis on its own

because it's what's gonna kill her.

Now, it's ascending. Her MRis are clean,
so rule out stroke or aneurysm.

- ALS, MS?
- Too quick.

- Spinal lesion from leukemia?
- Too slow.

- It's most likely Guillain Barré.
- She's immunosuppressed.

What about botulism?

Not unless she's been walking
on her hands the last couple of days.

Botulism paralysis is descending,
not ascending.

Could be a virus. West Nile,
even polio with her immune system shot.

Get an LP and do PCRs for the viruses.

And get an EMG
to check for Guillain Barré.

Foreman's right.
We gotta find out why she's paralyzed.

But not before staring at me dumbly
for a few seconds.

We ran more tests
on your daughter.

We took a lumbar puncture,
got some spinal fluid.

Then we brought it to the lab
to look for infections

that could be affecting her brain.

We also did an EMG to check
how her muscles and nerves

are responding to electrical impulses.

Unfortunately, her muscles are showing
increased weakness above the knee.

You mean she's getting worse?

The LP and PCRs ruled out
polio and West Nile.

We think it's Guillain Barré.

The body's immune response goes
haywire

and starts attacking
the peripheral nerves.

It causes muscle weakness and
paralysis.

How bad is it?

It's serious, but Guillain Barré usually
responds very well to plasmapheresis.

You see, the plasma,
the clear liquid

contains most of the antibodies
which are overreacting

and attacking her nervous system.

The machine spins her blood
in a centrifuge

and separates parts of the blood
based on weight.

White blood cells are the heaviest,
then the red cells,

then platelets and plasma.

We discard the stuff
that's causing all the trouble

and return the good blood cells back
to her body in a replacement fluid.

If it works,
we'll see results in a couple of days.

You didn't get any messages for me
last week, did you?

Nope.

That's funny.
The guy finally called back.

The place I lost,
he said he left three voicemails.

Gotta pee.

Which I never got, if that wasn't clear.

He must be lying.
You wouldn't want to live with a liar.

- You erased my messages?
- Yep.

Decided I wanted you to stay.
Told you that, didn't I?

You're miserable, and you're lonely,
and you're gonna trap me here

to keep me every bit
as miserable and lonely, too.

Yeah, and you're happy, happy, happy.

Okay. Hey, I'm obviously going through
a rough patch here.

Wife leaves, tends to bum somebody out.

Do you know where my pee went?

You're missing some?

No. Came out of me and went right
into the toilet. Now, why would that be?

You're William Tell. You could pick
an apple off someone's head?

No, it's because there was
no clear plastic wrap over the toilet.

The stuff's in the kitchen.
You had plenty of time.

- All that was missing was the will.
- This isn't a college dorm.

- It could be.
- We're not 18!

So what? What did I do to you?
I scammed you into doing the dishes,

I made you sit on the steps.
I didn't kill your puppy.

- I did not make you miserable.
- Oh, so this is therapy?

No, it just makes me smile.

All right.
I'm finding a new place tomorrow.

Right. But not tonight.

Well, I figure you wanna shave
my eyebrows while I'm asleep.

I wouldn't wanna deprive you
of that last smile.

You're not going anywhere.

You're gonna sit on my couch
and depress us both

because you just can't admit
that it's over with your wife.

- That's right. I'm here on vacation.
- Have you gotten a lawyer yet?

- That... That's not...
- Have you even called one?

As long as you're here,
it's just a fight.

But as soon as you get a place,
then it's a divorce.

Everything sucks.

Might as well find something
to smile about.

Reflexes are marginally weaker.

The paralysis is getting worse?

Sometimes it takes a few treatments
for the plasmapheresis to work.

Why do these things keep
happening to me?

Dan's back.

Hey, baby, did you hear that?
Dan's here.

I don't wanna see him.

- I'll tell him to come back later.
- No.

Mommy, stay here, please.

Of course.

- Is she doing okay?
- She's sleeping.

I'm sure she's exhausted.

Mood swings are common
with the anti-rejection meds.

No. She's had mood swings.
This isn't it.

This is... She's given up.

I know you think I'm...

This isn't what I wanted.

She's always fought with me.

Ever since she was a baby,
she was so damn stubborn.

But I never wanted her like this.

I just wanted her safe.

Doctor!

She can't breathe.
She can't even get a whole sentence out.

She's using the accessory muscles.

- O2 sat's down to 90. Lungs clear?
- Yeah.

Does your tongue feel swollen?
Is it itchy?

- No hives.
- It's not an allergy.

Lips are cyanotic.
We've got to intubate.

What are you doing?

Pushing lorazepam.

She's not getting enough oxygen.
We've gotta assist her breathing.

What was that?
Was that a reaction to the treatment?

It's the paralysis.
It's reached her lungs.

Melinda's dying.

We're all dying. How fast?

Too fast for Guillain Barré.

Cuddy wants to get her an MRI
to rule out a spinal lesion.

Cuddy? What's she doing on this?

The family lost confidence in us.

I don't blame them. I'll be right in.

It's like she got poisoned
with a nerve agent.

Glue inhalation. Would explain
why she hasn't admitted it.

Tox screen was clear for pot.

Middle-class heart transplant patient's
gonna huff glue?

- Pesticides?
- They're not spraying.

This girl's tough.
She gets what she wants.

She's deprived of human contact.
She gets herself a backdoor man.

Or in her case, a side-window boy.
What else has she been deprived of?

She's on a special diet
because of her allergies.

The boyfriend brings the hot beef.
He also brings a side dish, botulism.

This paralysis is ascending, remember?

Not if the heart problem's
really a paralytic problem.

Why would she admit the sex
and not the food?

She didn't admit anything.

He admitted the sex,
and we didn't ask him about food.

- Get me a rat.
- You have a rat.

What? I'm not gonna kill Steve.

Only way to confirm this,
inject a rat with her blood

and wait for it to get all botulistic
on your ass.

In the meantime, I'm going downstairs
to browbeat a scared dying teenage girl

until she breaks down
like a scared dying teenage girl.

- You're up early.
- Cuddy needed a consult.

We're checking for spinal lesions
from leukemia.

Yeah, I know. Fits perfectly.

Unless this is the patient
with the anaphylaxis, the heart failure,

and the paralysis, in which case,
you're wasting your time.

We wanted a second opinion.

Second?
We must have given you at least eight.

Okay, well, here's nine. Botulism.

Listen to me,
have you eaten anything abnormal?

- Any canned foods?
- No.

You sure?

Lying to your parents is
usually the right thing to do,

but there is
an impending death exception.

Don't talk to her like that.

You're right. She never lies.
I was being rude.

When your boyfriend snuck in
on Friday night... Surprise.

Perhaps he got you
some sexy little treats, huh?

Some honey or some edible underwear,
some massage oils. Come on, anything.

- We didn't...
- Yeah, yeah. We know about the sex.

Turns out that Danny's little Danny is
full of penicillin.

That's what caused
your anaphylactic shock.

You didn't tell us that was what...

No. It was...
He took clindamycin, what I use...

He said he was on penicillin.

- I saw the bottle.
- That's a non-penicillin antibiotic.

If the antibiotics didn't cause
the anaphylaxis...

It's still on the table.

Everything is connected.

What did we discuss?
What was the differential?

Cameron said...

When Dan came to your house that night,
he go through any tall grass?

Climbed a fence.

What are you doing?

Your daughter had two visitors
on Friday night.

One of them is still in the room.
She has tick paralysis.

Dan tracked a tick onto his jeans,
which wouldn't be a problem.

But being a teenager,
Dan couldn't keep his tick in his pants.

We already checked her.

Now I'm checking her.

Tick bites don't ordinarily cause
anaphylactic shock.

This girl's allergies are not ordinary.

House, get out of here. We have to
re-intubate her, get her into the MRI.

The time course is perfect.

The bite itself sets off
an allergic reaction.

Venom takes four days to kick in.

Heart's vulnerable, hits that first,

then a day later sets off
the ascending paralysis.

Except that ticks aren't
usually invisible.

They are until you find them.

Oh, no. That's dandruff.

Okay, well, that wasn't
nearly as dramatic as I'd hoped.

It just means the next time will be
even better.

- What's happening?
- That's the tick venom ascending.

Either that or you stressed her
into heart failure. BP's dropping.

- Heart rate, 47.
- I'm administering atropine.

She's gonna need
a transvenous pacing wire.

Okay, magical tick hunt is over.
Only real doctor stuff now.

This is just gonna get worse.

Ticks produce more toxins
the longer they feed.

She's gonna be dead in an hour even
if you pump her heart full of jet fuel,

- unless you let me find the tick.
- Could he be right?

The only thing I know for sure is
that your daughter's heart won't last

another 20 minutes without treatment.

Okay, I just need one final instruction.
When I find the tick on the autopsy,

do you want to know? I'm thinking not,
probably make the coping easier.

Stop talking to them!

Page Borsisky in cardiology.
Get her team down here stat.

Get them out of here.
Get House out, too.

Dr. Wilson, I could use your help.

Well, I don't know if the dopamine's
enough. She may need inamrinone lactate.

Why? What's that? She doesn't...

She might need stronger pressors.
They don't have any in radiology.

Inamrinone can cause arrhythmia
and thrombocytopenia.

Not inamrinone could cause death.
Death's worse.

We have to get her up to the ICU.

Cardiac team
to ICU stat. Cardiac team to ICU stat.

- Sorry, a little crowded here.
- House, get out of the elevator.

You're welcome to wait for the next one.

- You got her?
- Got her.

As long as we're stuck here, this might
be a good time to look for that tick.

- Turn the elevator back on.
- Just be a minute, honey.

- Atropine's wearing off.
- So inject her again.

- That's just temporary.
- Temporary's fine.

We're not hanging wallpaper.

We've gotta get her upstairs
and put her on norepinephrine.

It wasn't penicillin. You still think
the symptoms are unconnected?

We've gotta take care
of her heart before...

You wake up in the morning,
your paint's peeling,

your curtains are gone,
and the water's boiling.

- Which problem do you deal with first?
- House.

None of them. The building's on fire!
We treat her symptoms, she dies.

We find the cause, she lives.
That tick is an IV drip of poison.

We unhook it, she'll be fine.

This is my last atropine.
Last us about three minutes.

Let's get her gown up.

Her heart rate falls below 35,
we're getting her to the ICU.

I'm not gonna let her die
in this elevator.

Where are they?

Get maintenance up here, right away.

- Ear canal's clean.
- Left foot's clean.

If it's not here, we've only got...
Heart rate's 46.

It's here. Looks like a mole
or a freckle, something we missed.

Check the armpits.

Dr. Foreman's an excellent doctor.
He'll be able to handle it.

Yeah? You know that from experience?
You lose a lot of patients on elevators?

The maintenance guy said
it didn't just stop on its own,

that they hit the emergency stop button.

Well, I'm sure he must be mistaken.

- Perineum.
- We checked it.

- If we get her upstairs, we still...
- Maxilla.

Checked.

Down to 38. We don't have a lot of time.
We can still...

Eyebrows, eardrums, pubic hair.

Checked, checked, checked.
We checked everywhere! It's not...

Thirty-five.

- We gotta get her to the ICU.
- We haven't found the tick yet.

We already kidnapped her!
You wanna add murder?

We've looked over every inch of skin
on her body, House! It's over.

Hey, is that the first time you had sex?

With all the other stuff going on down
there, she might not have realized.

- You sick, miserable...
- What are you doing?

Oh, my God!

See? Told you it'd be
even more dramatic.

Push norepinephrine.
Get her heart back to normal.

She'll be completely cured by tomorrow.

Foreman, let's get her into the ICU.

Inamrinone was a stupid idea

unless you wanted me
to get that girl in the elevator.

- Oh, I wouldn't do that.
- Wouldn't respect you if you did.

Wow, looks like somebody filed
halfway through your cane

while you were sleeping.

Reflexes back to normal.

Heart's looking good, too.

I'll send in the nurse,
we'll get you transferred out of ICU.

You'll be discharged in the morning.

Thank God. I just wanna get home.

And back to school on Monday.

I'm not ready.

You're ready.

- I'm sick, Mom.
- You're not sick.

You're gonna go to class,

and you're gonna see
your friends and your boyfriend.

What's this doohickey?

A brassiere.
You know about those things.

You're a big boy now.

Well, I've never run across
one like that.

It's brand new.
Revolutionary uplift.

- It's explained to you.
- I know. I know.

I have acrophobia,
which gives me vertigo and I get dizzy.

What a moment to find out I had it.

Well, you've got it.

There's no one to blame.
Why quit?

You mean and sit behind a desk?
Chair-borne.

- It's where you belong.
- What about my acrophobia?

I called a divorce lawyer today.

Does that mean you're leaving?

At some point.

You might not want to sit exactly there.