House (2004–2012): Season 3, Episode 13 - Needle in a Haystack - full transcript

(MUSIC PLAYING ON STEREO)

Wait. We shouldn't...
We shouldn't be doing this.

What? You're not having fun?

It's not that. I just...

Rather be with the boys?

No.

Well, then come on.

(BANGING)

You kids need any help?

No. No, we're fine.

Car trouble?



No.

Then why are you here?

We're just talking.

Does she do all the talking?

Most of it.

I know what that's like.

I'm gonna come back
through here in 10 minutes,

and if you're still here,
I'm gonna call your parents.

Yes, sir. Thank you.

Now, where were we?

We were going.

In nine minutes.

Wait...

Stevie? What's wrong?



Oh, my God!

Help! Someone help me!

(WATER SPLASHING)

Sixteen-year-old
with respiratory arrest.

The only thing I hate more
than a thief is a crippled thief.

Yeah, me, too.
No sign of trauma, no history

- of asthma or...
- Who the hell is J. Whither?

No idea. Stevie Lipa's EKG
and echocardiogram were normal, but...

Normal is good. Send him home.

J. Whitner, doctor. Who is he,
and where do I find him?

She's the new researcher,
works with Ereshevsky.

- Is she hot?
- She's in a wheelchair.

Doesn't mean she's not hot.

Just means
she can't bend over,

so Cuddy has to
bend over backwards.

Sixteen-year-old kid. ER workup revealed
a bloody pleural effusion.

- That's odd.
- Yeah, that occurred to me.

What took you so long
to mention it?

No tumors or pneumonia
on the CT.

He passed out
while making out.

If he's into sex, drugs and rock
and roll can't be that far behind.

I'm guessing cocaine.

Tox screen was clean.

Just means he wasn't on drugs,
not that he hasn't been using drugs.

Looks like a plumbing problem
to me. Leaky pipes.

If he popped an aneurysm,
he'd be in the morgue, not the ER.

That's why you're gonna do a venogram
instead of an arteriogram.

This is not a high-pressure burst.
It's a low-pressure leak.

Still could've been drugs that caused
the pipes to corrode in the first place.

So go look under his mattress.

See if he's got any pills or powder
stashed with the hand lotion.

Sweet ride. I asked for the one
with the sissy bar and the banana seat,

but Santa gave me this instead. Guess
that's what I get for being naughty.

You must be Dr. House.

Yeah.

So looks like there's been some sort
of mix-up at the parking office.

They had to move me closer
to the door.

Had to? You don't look like
the type to pull a weapon.

- Wheelchair.
- Cane.

I think you should do the honorable
thing and let me have my space back.

Oh, well,
since you asked so nicely, wheelchair.

Cane. Walking long distances
makes my leg hurt.

And it's easy for me?

Of course not.
Pushing that little lever?

The muscles must burn. I'm sure
the last 10 yards are pure torture.

Crossing the parking lot is dangerous.
Cars can't see me.

You ever hit a patch
of black ice with a cane?

No, gosh, on account of the fact
that I can't walk.

Maybe you should ask the parking office
for some crampons.

This is about who can most easily cross
the parking lot. You're the winner.

Oh, and the prize
is apparently a parking space.

There's still no answer at either
one of your parent's cell numbers.

Is there any other way
we might be able to contact them?

No, they're in a conference.

They probably had
to turn them off or something.

What does it matter where they are?
I mean, he's in pain.

You gotta do something.

We need them to sign this.

Why can't he just
sign the papers? He's 16.

Still not an adult.

Then call my parents. They know him,
and they'll take responsibility,

- do whatever you need.
- I can't. It won't...

You can't just let him sit here in agony
until his parents finally decide...

Leah, it's okay.

No, it's not.

I feel like there's an anvil
sitting on my chest.

(MONITOR BEEPING)

You win. I'm doing the venogram now.
We'll deal with the fallout later.

(COUGHING)

My fingers feel wet.

That's just the dye.
Your nerves can't tell the difference

between the cold inside your body
and the wet outside your body.

The nerves can't tell the difference,

or the brain can't interpret
the difference?

A little of both.
You like science?

Looks like
a diffusion pattern.

That's because it's
the venous side. Low pressure.

So Graham's law applies.

You've taken physics already?

No, I just sort of
read up on my own.

I had to teach myself a lot of stuff,
too. Schools sucked where I grew up.

You go to public or private?

Public.

Leak has to be in the pulmonary veins
to get in my lungs, right?

Yep.

I don't see anything. Do you?

No.

It doesn't make sense.

How can I have a bloody effusion
without any bleeding?

(COUGHING)

This is putrid.

Put food-borne parasites and infections
on the list to check on.

I'll take the bedroom.

Oh. Sorry, I didn't know
there was anyone.

- We were just...
- Oh, God! I have a gun.

Look, you can take whatever you want.
My wallet's in my suit.

Freeze! Freeze!

I'm calling the cops.

Okay, you don't have a gun,
and you're not calling the cops.

Oh, no, I'm calling the cops unless
you two get out of here right now.

"Unless"? Who calls the cops
unless a burglar does something?

You don't want to
have to explain the affair.

We're not having an affair.

He's got a ring. You don't.

And judging from the state
of the kitchen downstairs

and the half-vacuumed bedroom,

I'm guessing you're a better lover
than you are a maid.

Maid? You son of a bitch.

I'm not a maid, okay?
This is my house, not his.

- Sorry.
- And what's wrong with my kitchen?

Nothing. We're sorry.
We're just here to help Stevie.

Who's Stevie?

Your son?

It was the address you gave.

The ER must have
written it down wrong.

Or you lied because you don't want us
to talk to your parents.

I gave you their
phone numbers.

You gave us some numbers.
We haven't been able to reach anyone.

I told you,
they must be in a conference.

- He's lying.
- Leah.

He's Romany, a Gypsy.

So you don't have a home?

Of course we do.

What, next you're gonna ask me
about dancing around campfires

and stealing children?
This is why I don't tell people.

They share everything with each other

and nothing with the gadje,
the outsiders.

Sharing information with outsiders
has not gone so well for my people.

Right now you're making yourself
more vulnerable by lying to us.

You can't go to my house.
You'll pollute it.

All we're gonna do
is look around.

Your presence is enough.

My parents take it seriously.

It's spiritual
as much as it is physical.

You know where he lives?

Don't.

Look, I'll tell you
whatever you need to know.

If we can't
trust your answers...

I drink sometimes, okay?
I've smoked pot.

I'll tell you anything,
the truth. You just...

You can't go in my home.

The pot wouldn't cause a bleeding
problem. A pesticide on the pot could.

Where did you get it?

Some kid at school.

Stevie. He got the pot from me.

He doesn't even go to school.
His parents made him drop out.

- I'm home-schooled.
- He reads books.

What else are you lying about?
ls your father really a professor?

He's a salesman.

They buy and sell anything
they can get their hands on.

They? So you're with your dad
when he's making these deals?

He was just in Chicago
a week ago.

- You fly?
- No, my dad's got a truck.

You can't be serious.

Actually, I can.

See? It's my space.
I want it back.

It's not your space.
It's the hospital's space,

and the hospital thinks
that the person who's worse off

should get the better space.

Your application for a handicap space
says you can walk 50 yards.

And Whitner's says
she can roll 50 miles

between oil changes.
I can't change my leg.

The space I moved you to is only
46 yards away from the front door.

- I measured. You'll be fine.
- Great.

So I can collapse four yards into the
lobby instead of outside in the cold.

- As long as it's not in my office.
- Do you know who won

the New York City Marathon
six years in a row? Guy in a wheelchair.

Then go get yourself one,
and leave me alone.

Give me my space,
I'll be happy to roll around all day.

You couldn't last one week
in a wheelchair.

Wanna bet?

What's wrong with you?

Nothing that a week off
my feet won't solve.

Venogram's negative. No leak.

You mean you couldn't
find the leak.

Is your leg worse?

No, my parking spot is.

Blood is only made inside
the circulatory system,

- which means when we find it outside...
- There's no leak.

- I even checked lymphatics.
- So you're gonna spend a week

in a wheelchair just to get a
parking space closer to the front door?

Easier than chopping off my legs.

We've ruled out toxins
and drugs.

Kind of. He's Romany. Apparently,
they feel the need to keep secrets,

so it's hard to know
anything for sure.

Yeah, he's also a human being,

which means you shouldn't be
trusting him to begin with.

Stop relying on his answers
and find some on your own.

It's a deep-vein thrombosis.

The kid spent 16 hours
in the back seat of an old pick-up.

Causes a clot,
makes its way to his lungs.

We should do an arteriogram,
find the clot, bust it with TPA.

Or we can find the leak.

There's no leak.

Hey, you can't yell at a guy
in a wheelchair.

This is a slow leak.
You've got to speed it up.

Thin his blood.
Redo the venogram.

That could cause
a massive bleed.

Excellent.
Massive will be even easier to find.

Pardon me. I guess you guys
are gonna have to get the next one.

I thought you were
redoing the venogram.

As soon as we're done
with the arteriogram.

Okay, you're gonna feel
a little poke.

Can you maybe do that?

Don't worry. It's just your leg. I don't
have to go any further than this.

Take a look at this,
bones of your forearm.

Radius and ulna.

How about the wrist?

Lunate, hamate, the...

"Scared lovers try positions
they can't handle."

It's a mnemonic for the wrist bones.
It's the only way I can remember them.

(GROANING)

FOREMAN: You okay?

- My stomach.
- Did you hit something?

- I barely started.
- Lie flat.

- No, I can't. It hurts too much.
- I'm getting out.

It's our only chance
to see what's going on.

If he moves,
I could shred his artery.

Get it out now!

It's gonna be okay, Stevie.
Just inject the dye.

Dye's going into his liver,
but it's not coming out.

Clot's gotta be constricting
the flow in the hepatic vein.

It's not constricting it.
It's completely blocking it.

His whole liver's fried.

The kid's liver's failing
because of a massive clot

that's blocking his hepatic vein.
How can he have both a bleed and a clot?

It's not a clot.
You must have blocked the vein

- with a catheter wire.
- Not a chance.

Increased pressure downstream
could also stop the blood.

There's no heart failure or cirrhosis.
Means it has to be a clot.

Massive clots block veins.
They don't make them leak.

And since he clearly
has some kind of...

You having a little problem?

Would you mind?

Boy, that was humiliating. How
does Whitner make it through the day?

"Pride goeth before the fall."

Lucky for me,
I'm sitting in one of these babies.

So what other theories
can I shoot down?

DIC would explain both the...

His platelets are normal,
and his PTT isn't elevated.

- Leukemia?
- Normal CBC, and differential?

You guys are thinking like doctors when
you should be thinking like plumbers.

Come on, I wanna see
some butt crack.

Something inside the liver
is punching holes in the pipes.

Blood bleeds through the opening,
sticks to the intruder, forms a mass.

- A clot.
- A mass.

Cancer? A tumor could
erode a blood vessel.

Well, so could a granuloma
from tuberculosis or sarcoidosis.

Do a CT, MRI,
sputum and ACE level.

Excuse me. Sorry.
Cripple coming through.

He says his throat hurts.

That phrasing means
you think it doesn't.

No, I don't.

- Good enough for me.
- Where are you going?

Mothers know best.
Get yourself a sucker on the way out.

Look, I think he's just faking
so he doesn't have to go to school.

How did you know
I was a truant officer?

I told him he had a choice,
go to school or the doctor.

Right. He's wasting your precious time,
so you decided to waste mine.

How thoughtful.

I'm in a wheelchair, so I can't
examine him all the way up there.

Hop down. My life is just
one horror after another.

Open.

Does it look like it hurts?

No.

What's that?

Syringe. I'm with you.

Make him hate the doctor's office
more than he hates school.

That's okay.
I don't think that's...

It's just saline.

Hurts like hell when it's injected
directly into the muscle.

So what do you think,
arm or ass?

I think he's
learned his lesson.

Oh, I don't know.
We better check.

Jack, is your mommy a big,
fat idiot?

Well, what do you know?
I guess you were right.

Just hold still, Stevie.
This shouldn't take long.

Sorry, I'm guessing the mike
in this thing doesn't pick up nods.

Smart kid.

Too bad it's all
gonna go to waste.

Nothing wrong
with being a salesman.

He should be able to
pursue his own life,

not be stuck helping his parents
sell old toasters.

He's still young. You never know
what he'll end up doing.

Unless he goes back to school,
I know exactly what he'll end up doing.

Wait. A lesion?

CHASE: Magnifying times five.

CAMERON: It's a granuloma.

It means Wegener's
is the most likely.

- Stevie!
- Mom, is that you?

Get him out of this now.

Your son is sick.
The sign on the door...

The sign says, "No metal."
We took everything off.

It says, "No admittance."

- What's wrong with our son?
- We don't know yet.

He's not gonna die, is he?

Your son is very ill.
We're still trying to figure out why,

which is why
we need you to leave the room.

What are you gonna do now?

Oh, now I've got to slide my butt
from one padded seat to another.

What if I bump my knee?

MRI showed
a granuloma in his liver.

Fantastic.

- Wanna give me a hand here?
- No.

Clotting, bleeding and a granuloma
equals Wegener's.

I know. That's why I said fantastic.
I was being sincere.

- Now, give me a hand.
- Wouldn't be fair.

We're gonna biopsy
the liver to confirm.

Wouldn't be fair not to.

People are good and kind and gentle
and help people in wheelchairs.

- You don't believe that.
- But you do.

No, I don't.

Foreman, forget the biopsy.

His liver will be gone
before you get the results.

Start treatment
with cyclophosphamide

before the Wegener's
punches a hole in another pipe.

What's with the clothes?
You're not being discharged.

I know.

It's my parents.
They insist that I wear this stuff.

We insist on our own food,
gown and furnishings for a reason.

Hey, my chest burns.
Are you sure the treatments are working?

Wegener's causes the body
to attack itself.

That doesn't get undone
overnight. Be patient.

- Where's your soup?
- It's in the garbage.

It has willow-bark extract.

Willow-bark extract
is basically aspirin.

Yes, for the fever.

He's already on meds,
our meds.

We can't risk any
adverse interactions.

We need all this stuff to go.
We need to control this environment.

So do we. People get sick
for a reason,

'cause something in their life
is out of balance.

Dad, he's a doctor.
He doesn't want to hear your talk.

Balance is just starting to be restored
now that that girl is gone.

That girl took pretty good care
of your son while you were away.

Yes, we can see that.

Look, all this stuff may make him feel
more comfortable, but it's not gonna...

How long is this treatment
gonna take?

We should start to see
some improvement

in his liver function soon.

Soon. Very scientific.

I'm sorry.

I'll be back in a little bit
to check on you.

Ah, yes, if it isn't
Dr. lronside.

Ah, if it isn't Dr. "I Had No Friends
When I Was Growing Up,

"So All I Did Was Watch TV
by Myself,

"Which ls Why I Can Now Make
Constant Pop-Culture References

"Which No One Understands
but Me."

That's my name.
Don't wear it out.

(EXCLAIMS)

Safe from Cuddy, but I guess not
from her trusted rat-complice.

Reasonable people don't debate
the relative merits of their handicaps.

Reasonable people
make rules based on evidence,

like difficulty
covering a distance,

say, 50 yards, not on
some preordained patheticness scale.

Last I checked, pigheadedness
was not the eighth heavenly virtue.

It's only pigheaded if you're wrong.
If you're right,

they call it,
"Sticking to your principles."

Give it up.
You're demeaning yourself.

That's what they told
Rosa Parks.

Don't stand up in there.
I'm watching your feet.

Get out of our home.

This is not a home.
It's certainly not...

It's our home as long as
our son is here.

Mom, Dad, will you please
just calm down.

You're not family.
You have no right to be here.

What are you gonna do? Throw me out?
You can't even touch the gadje.

- I'll touch you.
- What is going on?

I'm the one who brought him here.
I should be able to see how he's doing.

He wouldn't even need to be here
if it weren't for you.

Right. I'm so unclean,
I caused his liver to shut down.

Enough. No one is leaving.

He's our son,
and we want her out of here.

(GROANING)

- It hurts.
- It's your stomach again?

- No.
- What?

FOREMAN: His liver's
actually improving.

We plug one hole
and end up poking another.

Are we talking about the patient
or how to get a raise from Cuddy?

The Wegener's treatment gave him
a massive hemorrhage in his bladder.

Which means it's Wegener's.

- What did I just say?
- We were treating him for Wegener's

- when everything went wrong.
- Not everything.

Yeah, it was a very
lovely day outside.

On the other hand,
the treatment made him worse.

Treatment made his
bladder worse, not his liver.

Clot in the liver's
breaking up.

And MRI, sputum and ACE
ruled out TB, sarcoidosis and lymphoma,

which leaves us with...

Still could be
a cancer with multiple...

A cancer we can't see
on MRI, CT or blood tests?

It's Wegener's.

It's not the wrong diagnosis.
It's the wrong treatment.

We could increase immunosuppression.
Add methotrexate.

We can't give methotrexate to a kid
who's already had lung problems.

Methotrexate is carpet bombing.
Hits everything.

We need a smart bomb.

We don't suppress the immune system.
We change it.

Immune modulation. FT28. His antibodies
are attacking his blood vessels.

The irritation causes it to bleed
and clot. We change his immune system

so the antibodies don't interact
with his blood vessels

but work fine
everywhere else.

FT28 is still experimental.
It's not FDA approved.

It's worked for Crohn's disease
and rheumatoid arthritis.

He doesn't have Crohn's
or arthritis.

Let's say that he does
and start the treatment.

Absolutely not.

My people have been experimented on
before. Never again.

Mister Lipa,
with all due respect,

comparing this hospital
with Auschwitz, it's ridiculous.

FT28 has been proven
safe in hundreds...

People always say
you can trust them.

Why would they
say anything else?

Why do they think
we would listen?

You think I don't understand
what it's like to come from a people

who've been enslaved,
mistreated and experimented on?

Tuskegee went on for 28 years
after World War ll.

And the laws that made it illegal
for the Romany to even set foot

in this state were still on the books
until 1998. It's not ancient history.

Conventional therapy hasn't worked.
Your son may be dying.

He needs a targeted approach,
and you need to trust us.

I'm sorry. A lifetime of experiences
tells me I can't trust you,

and the past three days
have done nothing to change that.

We want our son treated,
not experimented on.

If you don't know how to
do that, then just tell us,

so we can take him
someplace where they do.

They're absolutely right.
Stay away

from that unproven, experimental stuff.
Much better to stick

with the "moving the furniture
until he gets better" approach.

Yes, you're right. We're gonna
have to come up with something else.

Do you mean another last-ditch,
desperation move? You got anything?

Go back and don't take no for an answer.
What kind of salesman are you?

The kind who avoids the house
with the crazy couple

who put tin foil
over their windows.

They got money for tin foil,

they got money for
whatever you're selling.

What's that mean?

It means that if they don't trust you,
you should earn that lack of trust.

What does paying
for tinfoil mean?

Why should I have
to answer all the questions?

Oops.

Sorry. Still getting used to
the power steering.

I assume you've
heard the news?

I'm not worried.

From what I hear, what you lack
in shame, you also lack in willpower.

My will may be weak,
but my backbone is strong

and pain-free
now that I've stopped using the cane.

Of course, it's harder
to look down (Buddy's shirt,

but then the vantage point
on her ass has much improved.

Then that's just me,
always looking on the bright side.

I'm the guy who said
that her C-cups are half full.

They are nice, aren't they?

Oh, no, no, no, you're not
gonna win me over that easily.

You may have a wheel.
It doesn't mean you get the grease.

You gotta squeak.

What's that?

It's cyclophosphamide.

We're continuing
the standard treatment as you requested.

I have to ask everyone
to leave the room for a few minutes

while I apply some bandages.

Why do we have to leave?

They're for his penis.

You lied to them. The bleeding's
stopped. I don't need any bandages.

I need to change
your treatment,

but your parents won't let us.
They've got it in their minds

that we want to try some sort
of inhuman experiment on you.

The treatment's experimental?

FT28 has been through extensive
clinical trials.

It's also been used successfully
for other conditions.

The fact that you're recommending
experimental treatment

means you have
no other options.

Sorry. We stop the pleural effusions,
your liver almost fails.

We save your liver,
the bladder fails.

If we don't get ahead
of the curve on this...

What do you need me to do?

Take the medicine,
but don't tell your parents.

I don't like lying
to my parents.

The rest of the world,
though...

The rest of the world
I can't trust.

You can trust me.

How do I know?

Because if you do this, then tell
your parents, I lose my license.

(GROANS)

- God.
- Get in here.

Wow, his spleen
basically exploded, huh?

Got another bleeder.
2-0 silk on a stick.

Got it.

I believe you ordered
your meat rare.

Keep him open.
If I confirm Wegener's,

might as well stage the disease
while he's still on the table.

What's taking so long?

External capsule's
ruptured but still intact.

No signs of a clot or a bleed. Normal
follicles, normal lymphoid tissue.

His spleen is ripped to shreds. There's
gotta be granulomas. Keep looking.

Come on, can't leave Humpty Dumpty
like this forever.

I don't see anything
but normal spleen. No granulomas.

Means no Wegener's.

That's all I need to know.
Let's go people.

Run his bowel.

No need. I'm closing.

Suture.

Run his bowel.

Nothing suspicious
in the spleen.

Get him out of here.

You missed it.

He had a granuloma
in his liver.

No, it was just scar tissue.

Looks like a granuloma
on the MRI, but it's not.

I don't know why I'm debating this.
Pass me the Kelly clamp. I'm closing.

Not unless you're gonna sew
my hand into this kid's stomach.

Get out of there.
He's unstable.

He's got Wegener's,
which means he's got granulomas.

I'm calling my lawyer.

It's only 26 feet.

If you were an ostrich,
you'd have a 46-foot wait.

(BEEPING)

Blood pressure's dropping.

Hang another bag
of Ringer's lactate.

I'm having nothing
to do with this.

Foreman, hang another bag...

Ringer's lactate. Got it.

Come on. Come on. It's gotta be in here.
It's gotta be in here.

It's not.

Mind if we close?

It's a good thing we never sold him
on FT28. His parents were right.

There's no way his parents
are gonna let us near him again.

They won't be able to transfer him
until he's recovered from the surgery.

You can add the surgical team
to the list of people

who won't let us near him.

Bleeds, clots, bleeds, clots,
spleen explodes.

We should test for
Von Willebrand's.

Or just play tic-tac-toe.

Okay, X's are bleeds.
0's are clots.

We started in the lungs, right?
What did we do?

CT, sputum, two venograms.

It's one bleed, one clot,
then what?

Liver shut down, MRI, labs,
treated with cyclophosphamide.

Whereupon he peed out three units
of O-negative, another bleed.

- Where is this going?
- I don't know yet.

- What's next?
- Bladder, kidneys.

High-resolution CT scan,
UA and urine sediment.

GI tract?

You ran his small bowel
in the OR.

The large bowel's fixed
to the abdominal wall.

- I didn't run that.
- Because there was no reason to.

He hasn't been having
any symptoms in his bowels.

Do a colonoscopy.

Because he's had no symptoms?

You lose your keys, the first thing
you do is look everywhere

you might logically
have placed them.

When you don't find them,
then you start looking in other places.

The medicine cabinet, freezer, mailbox.
We need to look in this kid's mailbox.

Why don't we x-ray his feet?
They're fine, too.

Because we need to take
the center square to block.

Okay, even if that did make sense,
it's kind of hard to do a colonoscopy

on a kid you can't get near.

He's in the ICU now.

His parent's only have
limited visiting privileges.

I like that kid.
He's got spunk.

Can't talk now. On guard duty.

You're still in that thing?

What thing?

Oh, this?
Forgot it was even there.

You know, even if you manage not to get
struck down by a bolt of lightning,

and make it a week,
Cuddy's not gonna give you the space.

She can't.

A bet's a bet.

Yes, and that rule outranks
the Americans with Disabilities Act.

You think you've got logic on your side,
but Whitner's got the legal system,

and legal beats logic
every time. Just ask OJ.

You're right.

- I am?
- Yeah.

So you're doing this even though

you know you've got no legal leg
to stand on?

Who needs legs when you got wheels?
I'm gonna get that spot.

No way Cuddy is going to gyp me.

What did you say?

I'll see you later.

Gonna have them yelling at me
for the next 20 minutes.

Mucosa looks normal, healthy.
No lonely diverticula.

Blood pressure's dropping.
He's bleeding again.

CHASE: I'm in his colon.

- Hurry up.
- I am.

There's nothing there.

Wait. Wait. What's that?

A reflection?

No, it's something.

Looks like a...

Toothpick.

Are you sure?

He must have swallowed it accidentally

and just figured
he'd digest it eventually.

When you two were making out in the car,
he must have folded awkwardly,

pushed the toothpick through the wall
of the intestine and into the lung.

Then it moved on to his liver and
made its way to his bladder and spleen.

So that's it?
He's gonna be okay?

Yeah, small holes.

It shouldn't take that long to heal
now that we've got it out.

- See? See what you did?
- Me?

If you hadn't been kissing him...

That's what you heard?

It was the toothpick.
it was that disgusting habit that you...

it would have just passed right through
him if he hadn't been writhing around.

Isn't that right...

That's it?

Yeah, that's it.

Wood absorbs water, becomes the
same density as the tissue around it.

That's why it didn't show up
on the CT or MRI.

That's cool.

I mean, not cool for me,

but a lot of damage
for something so small.

You know, the lab here,
they have a paid intern position.

It's usually given to one of the kids
from the universities,

but if you want,
I could probably get you an interview.

You know, some entry-level
stuff, some gopher work,

but you'd also have access
to a lot of cool things.

Thanks, really, but I can't.

Yes, you can.
Stevie, you're bright.

You have more curiosity
than 90% of the doctors on this staff.

No, it's not that.
It's just...

I go to work every day
with my family, you know?

People I've known
my whole life.

I don't want to lose that.

You can have both.

No, I can't.

Because they don't
want to let you.

They shouldn't be
making you choose.

Maybe not, but they are.

I'm choosing them.

Change is hard.
Trust me, I know.

But it worked out for me.

You're a successful doctor.

Your name is on journal articles.
I would love that.

It's just I see you
with Doctors Chase and Cameron,

and you all got
empty ring fingers.

You're alone.

(LAUGHS)

This is my last day
living a life of leisure.

So are you gonna tell Doctor Whitner
she's out of my space,

- or can I?
- Why would I do that?

Because you said that
you would, and lying is wrong.

I said I would give you the space
if you made it a whole week...

- Which l...
- Didn't.

The bet didn't stipulate that you
had to be in the chair for a week

unless you had to barge
into an operating room

and shove your hands
in a kid's bowels.

You know about that?

You lost.

I saved a life.

Two minutes out of the chair
to save a kid's life.

You lost, House.

I earned that space.

No, you didn't.

I earn that space every day I limp
into that building and do my damn job.

You lost.

Hey!

You were never gonna give me that space,
were you? I saw Whitner the other day.

She knew about the bet,
didn't seem that worried.

She knew I'd win.

She doesn't know me.

In fact, she doesn't know anything,
except what you tell her.

You told her that you were never gonna
give me that space, didn't you?

Just tell me,
do you at least feel a little guilty?

You wanna teach me lessons,
don't make commitments you can't keep.

How's it going?

How guilty does she look?

About an eight.

That space is mine.
Veni, vidi, vici.

(IN WAITING LINE PLAYING)