House (2004–2012): Season 7, Episode 20 - Changes - full transcript

♪ ♪

Jennifer Williams?

And you are?

Cyrus.
Cyrus Harry?

You used to call my Cy if it's--
if it's really you.

I--I'm trying to find
the Jennifer Williams

I knew 23 years ago.

We spent a long weekend
at the Jersey Shore?

She was visiting a friend...

That lasted
longer than usual.

That's it for Lansdale.



Pack it up.

Let's move on to Philly.

Seriously,
you gonna complain?

How many limo drivers
are making six figures?

Cy, you're my little cousin,
and I love you,

and you've been
more than generous.

I'm upset because
you are wasting your time

over some faded memory

when there is a world
of pleasure out there.

The kind of cash you got
buys a lot of it.

Come on.
...be like that.

I've just been
driving around all day.

I'm a little cranky.

Hey!



My leg won't move.

Are you gonna stare,
or are you gonna call 911?

♪ House 07x20 ♪
Changes
Original Air Date on May 2, 2011

Massive Attack's ♪ Teardrop ♪

Partial paralysis.

Head CT and LP
showed nothing.

Spinal MRIs
and EMG were clean.

Brain symptom, yet nothing seems
to be wrong with his brain.

Refrigerator mechanic,
no family, in and out of work.

He just won $42 million
in the state lottery.

I think I read about
this lucky bastard in the paper.

You sure you don't mean
the lucky bastard

whose grandkids
snorted his winnings

till he drank himself to death
with drain cleaner?

Or the lucky bastard who was
found naked and penniless

in a strip club parking lot

with his winning number
tattooed on both testicles?

Neuro-otological pathology could
have caused loss of balance.

Calorics were normal.

Sure, some people
will screw up anything,

but some won't.

That kind of cash,

he has a chance to turn
a miserable life around.

Miserable stays miserable.

Happy doesn't buy lottery
tickets in the first place.

Our level of happiness
is set.

It's in our DNA.

No cash payout's
gonna change that.

It's like
there's two of me.

The guy repairs appliances.

He's probably got
toxic brain damage

from years of working
with toxic chemicals.

Or his sudden disease
came from his sudden millions.

He's buying something,
collecting something,

ceramics, precious metals,

which gave him atherosclerosis
of his carotid arteries.

My mother's lawyer called.

She's threatening
to sue the hospital

over our mistreatment
of her.

Says it slowed
her recovery.

You know,
I was just thinking

how much I want
a relationship with no sex

but where I still have
to deal with your mother.

Go to the patient's
old workshop.

Look for causes
of toxic brain damage.

Go take a new history,

and see if there's
any lifestyle changes

that would explain
atherosclerosis.

Go.

Medicinal.

I'm expecting a shooting
pain in my ass.

My mom and I
got into a fight.

Because of our replacement
hip replacement,

she can barely get around
her own house.

I told her she has to live
with me while she recovers.

Oh, I'm starting
to get the connection.

Yeah, she has a house,

my name is House.

You're the doctor
that treated her,

that illegally switched
her meds after she fired you,

that went behind the back
of her actual doctor.

Those beads from Thailand.

If we're listing all the things
that you pressured me into.

The point is you're the
who's on the line here,

whose name is on
her hospital records.

Whose name is on her name?

Fine.

We're both on the line,

but she won't discuss this
with me alone.

She and her lawyer
want to meet with both of us

for settlement talks

I need you in that meeting
acting nice and respectful

while I defuse this stunt.

Yeah well, I'm not
going to that meeting,

so I'm guessing you're cool

if I'm not nice
and respectful either.

Picked up
any new hobbies?

How's a hobby
gonna paralyze my left leg?

If you work on vintage cars
or you've taken up painting,

the fumes can...

No cars, no paints.

You're a popular guy.

Popular wallet.

I had my appendix out.

Phil was there.
No one else even called.

What about drugs?

No drugs.

Look, I've seen
all the documentaries,

I've read all the articles.

I'm not gonna be
a tabloid cliche.

I know what I'm gonna do
my money.

Find and build a life

with the one woman
I ever cared for.

The point is
nothing's changed.

I live the same life.
I eat the same food.

Same crappy canned food.

How many of your meals
do you eat from a can?

Most of 'em.

I'm used to it.

I order 'em
by the case online.

Is that bad?

You're worried about
the trickle down effect

of Cuddy versus House
versus Cuddy.

You're reading subtext
into my silence?

House gets to you
more than anyone.

House thinks
I'm a robot.

You think I'm a wuss?

No, no, no, no.

I think you're repressed.

Well,
it's out of your control.

Tough childhood, strained
relations with your family.

Can't be easy trying to succeed
in a white man's world.

First of all, white man,

I've done at least
as well as you have.

Second, I didn't think
you take House's view

that life sucks
and we're stuck.

I think you're stuck.

Last month or so
I've turned my life around.

I'm happier than ever.

Sleeping with ten women
instead of four?

Try none.

He was cutting metal...
Inhaled the dust?

Unless he was snorting
lines of the stuff.

None?

Was having tons of sex,

and I was bored,
hating myself.

Was never gonna be ready
when something real came along.

So you're becoming
some kind of super monk,

and I can't change at all.

I challenge you to go
one differential

without House or anyone else
getting under your skin.

Since I say
nothing gets to me

and you won't take me
at my word,

how am I supposed
to prove you wrong?

I guess you can't.

I hope that doesn't
eat at you.

Off-brand solvent.
From China.

Made of God knows what.

Patient eats cheap
canned goods by the caseload.

Could be metal poisoning?

He also worked
with cut-rate chemicals.

Could be inhalation
of a toxic volatile substrate.

Treatment for both
is chelation.

Great work.

Alkalinize his urine
and force diuresis

for heavy metal poisoning.

If that doesn't work,
put him on dialysis

for toxic inhalation.

I just said treatment
for both is chelation.

And I said force diuresis
and try dialysis.

You need a transcript?

You want to put him
on dialysis,

risk infection
and hemodynamic swings

when we can just chelate?

Whoa, whoa.
Settle down.

If we chelate,

we're not gonna know
what disease he had,

which means we're not
gonna know if the problem

was in his lousy old job
or his still-lousy new life.

Which for the purposes
of a metaphorical argument

is very important.

Pointless to argue.

He's the boss.
He needs his puzzle solved.

Why bang our heads
against the wall?

When you're done
with the patient,

treat Foreman by banging
his head against the wall.

Where's the dialysis machine?

Who cares?
Since I ordered chelation.

We'll flip a coin, tell House
it was one disease or the other.

Worst case, he finds out and
he's impressed we defied him.

I'm sorry. I asked you to remove
the dialysis equipment,

not the chelation equipment.

And Dr. Cuddy asked me
to remove all equipment.

She de-authorized
all treatment.

She won't let us make a move

until you agree
to a sit-down

with the godmother
and her consigliere.

Bitch to king four.

Checkmate.

Patient can't use his leg.

You have to concede.

Or I could just knock
all the pieces

onto the floor.

You're discharging me?

We really...

Don't have
a good lie here, so...

You got caught
in some politics

between our boss
and his boss,

but you'll be out of here
20 minutes tops.

I'm not better,
but you're kicking me out?

Which is why
it'll only be 20 minutes.

See, the Dean of Medicine
acts tough,

but she's not really.

She'll step in,
readmit you.

So you're saying that she cares
more about his treatment

than the doctor who's
actually treating him.

Phil, shut up.

Cyrus.

Jennifer.

It's good to see you.

I read about you
in the paper,

so I hopped the first
train from Virginia.

So you read that
he struck it rich?

He's right.

It--it must look weird.

It kind of is weird.

Well, we're a long way
from the third street jetty.

I just wanted to see
you again and say hi,

so...Hi.

Hi.

I was starting to think
I'd never find my...

Baby bear.

Oh, my God.
I'm--I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I--I don't even
feel nauseous.

I don't know why--

your hand is shaking.
Okay.

You're having
a focal seizure.

What does that mean?

It means you're not
getting discharged.

We were right
that it's a brain issue,

but wrong about toxic inhalation
and metal poisoning.

Everyone else is waiting--

That was totally
courageous of Khloe

to Tweet about
her weight gain.

House, I've got a patient
with a seizure disorder

who can't walk.

Another one?

Thought we kicked out
the last one.

Obviously I'll let you
treat your patient.

What are you doing?

We got a patient with a walking
disorder who can't seize.

No, wait.
I'm close, though, right?

I wasn't finished.

Of course I'll let you
treat your patient

if you meet me halfway.

Well, I guess
I'm not finished either.

No clinic hours
for the next quarter.

Yeah,
three parking spots,

next to each other,
so I can park diagonally,

and three pairs
of your underwear.

I'm thinking of
taking up sailing.

Forget it.

Treat your patient,
don't treat your patient.

Come to the meeting,
don't come to the meeting.

I'm done playing your game.

You realize the game
is automatically over

when the loser loses, right?

Neurological lyme disease

explains the seizures
and the paralysis.

But not the fact that Chase
seems to be treating you.

He claims he can swear off
sex indefinitely.

Also claims that I am a boiling
cauldron of repressed rage.

Your theory is idiotic.

The patient's antibody titers
were negative for lyme disease.

And I shared a motel room
with your ex-girlfriend.

You make a good point
about the antibody titers.

He's a rock.

How's your brother--
homeless guy?

Haven't heard from him
in months!

I don't know.
Wish I did.

Postural hypotension,

which could have reduced
the blood supply to his brain.

He'd be a miserable wretch.

Actually,
the prognosis is--

Oh, I'm sorry.

No, I just meant his life
is gonna unravel.

In fairness,
that applies to any diagnosis.

Why do we do this?

It's not postural hypotension.
He's not orthostatic.

His life may unravel,
it may not.

He's not chasing after
material things.

Too bad.
He might actually get those.

He's looking for love.

Just tracked down
an old girlfriend.

And she'll never live up
to the memory,

and the thrill of finding
her will wear off,

and he won't even be able
to dream about being happy.

Interesting.

The patient may have found
some long-ago nookie,

but it doesn't mean he hasn't
had some in the meantime.

Herpes encephalitis.

Explains
the neurological symptoms.

EEG to confirm,

I.V. acyclovir to treat.

How's Foreman's
BP holding?

Same.

That's strange,

since I unplugged the lead
30 seconds ago.

Admirable effort.

And I'm not just saying that

'cause I'm scared
you might turn green

and rip through
your own clothes.

Down on the patient's romance

because your own lifespan is
shorter than dinner and a movie?

You're the one who said
miserable stays miserable.

You keep saying it.
Several times a day.

I love being back,

having every theory
you and I share

used as proof of my own
personal damage.

I'm afraid we'll
need you to step out

when the EEG begins.

The waiting area's
just down the hall.

I got to catch an early train
in the morning anyway.

No, don't.

I'll put you up in a nice hotel,
or rent you a furnished place.

I came for the night 'cause
I wanted to see how you were.

Maybe get back
in your life a bit,

but if I take your money...

What's wrong with
a nice place to stay?

Unless of course...

You don't want to stay.

I guess I could keep
my motel room

another night or two.

Need a consult.

Did an EEG on my patient.

Turns out the reason
that prior doctors

thought it wasn't
a neuro problem

is because it's
not a neuro problem.

The EEG did show signs
of metabolic distress.

Well, scan his abdomen.

Yeah, let's assume we'd already
figured that out on our own,

and found a mass
on the pancreas.

Mass looks solid.
I'd say it's cancer.

Paraneoplastic syndrome

would explain
the neurological symptoms.

You need to get
a piece of it.

Schedule a CT-guided biopsy.

Yeah, let's assume we'd already
figured that out on our own.

Then what's this consult?

Why haven't you
been yelling at me

about the Cuddy twins?

Because you're doing
the right thing.

Are we talking about
the same issue?

Is there something
I don't know about

that I'm responding
to appropriately?

Cuddy wants you
in the middle of this.

So does Arlene.

Because they don't want
to face their own problem.

Somehow, in your knee-jerk,
juvenile way,

you tripped and fell into an
actual adult response to this.

You're right.

That was Cuddy's
strategy all along.

She wanted me to think

that she desperately
needed me to be there

so that I wouldn't be there.

Where is Dr. House?

I didn't want him here.

This isn't about her treatment
at Princeton-Plainsboro.

It's about the fight
we had last week.

I'd like a moment
with my mother

to try and work this out
on our own.

I'm afraid my client
doesn't want to--

It's mother's day Sunday.

We can't have five minutes
alone to fix this?

Relax.
You can still bill me

for the time
standing in the hallway.

I know you're mad at me,

but you can barely make it
up those stairs.

How many nights have you
spent on your couch?

This has nothing to do
with our fight.

We're talking about my home,
not a prison camp.

What did I just say?

I think it was something
about this not being personal.

You can spend time
with Rachel.

I can watch over you.

Win, win.

Maybe I've got
a medical thing.

Maybe I just think
I'm talking,

but no one can hear me,

not just
my uncaring daughter.

What do you want?

20 grand.

I'll hire help and forget
this nightmare you put me thr--

make it 30.
I'll put in a stair lift.

If my board even hears
about these threats,

let alone a settlement,

they'll investigate
what happened

while you were here
as a patient.

House and I could both
lose our licenses.

I've been assuming
this is personal

because I don't want to assume

that was what
my mother wants.

House.

Ex-not-mom-in-law.

You said
you weren't coming.

After you said pretty please
with sugar on top?

Problem is we only
give store credit,

so I say we put your old,
cracked poisonous hip back in.

Here and now.

I saved your life.

Happy to un-save it.

He is being an ass.

If I could join you
in suing him--

She's like this
in bed too.

Always scheming to get
the lawyers out of the room.

If House isn't going
to take this seriously,

I know a few judges
who will.

Was I supposed to be
the good cop?

I had to rig the monitor.

I had a lot of salt
with breakfast.

You think I'm repressed too?

I think you're in danger
of being dissolved

by your own stomach acids.

Well, what about Chase?

Believe all that nonsense
about him being celibate?

Don't know,
but I'm rooting for him.

Read the studies.

The fewer partners you have,

the happier you are
with your ultimate partner.

Hmm. Then you're
gonna be miserable.

The studies,

it's important that they
have a control group.

There's the tumor
on his pancreas.

There's one on his kidney
and one in his colon.

One looks ascular,
one looks vascular.

The third looks calcifie

he has three completely
different cancers at once.

On average,
not so lucky after all.

You had to go all
Wile E. Coyote on me.

You told me that Arlene
wanted me in the middle of it.

I had to show her that
no good would come of that.

Seriously?
That's your rationalization?

How about you didn't like
that Cuddy tricked you?

Even though you wanted
the same thing as her.

You didn't like that she got
the best of you.

You've got more anger
toward her than you realize.

I'm happier without her.

I'm not stupidly expecting her
to make me happy.

I'm happier
with my unhappiness.

Do you listen
to what you're saying?

Because I have to.

I'm holding a summit meeting
to force you and Cuddy

onto the same page
before a lawsuit gets filed.

Three completely
unrelated cancers at once.

Multi-cancer syndrome--
Von Hippel Lindau?

Wouldn't have
touched his colon.

I hereby certify
that Dr. Foreman

has not tampered with this
blood pressure mechanism

in any way.

And after I prove
I'm 100% stress free,

do I get to strap you
into a chastity belt?

What if the patient's missing

a tumor-suppressor gene?

How would we even find it?

We need to blast him
with chemo now.

We can't give the patient chemo.

His platelet count's
through the floor.

Even worse,
it'd contain his cancers.

If we want to know
what they have in common,

we got to see
where they spread next.

You want to wait six months
while the cancer spreads

and his seizures and
paralysis get worse?

Well, now,
that's crazy talk.

But if we pump the patient

full of vascular endothelial
growth factor...

Foreman doesn't
like that idea.

You want to grow more
and bigger cancers?

We can't figure out what
three small ones have in common,

maybe can figure out what
eight big ones have in common?

Is this idea real,

or are you just threatening
to kill the patient

to screw with me?

This whole thing
is idiotic.

What does it matter
what's inside of me

if I know
how to control it?

Makes no difference to us,

but you may want
to make out a will.

Go get lotto boy's consent,

and turn his cancers
up to 11.

You, what,
found my old yearbook,

and got a picture of
my high school boyfriend?

Actually, that would
have been a lot simpler.

No, I took this
ten minutes ago.

Your high school boyfriend
who dumped you,

leaving you unable to believe

that anyone can rekindle
an old flame.

He dumped me after
I hooked up with his sister.

Would you mind
letting him down gently?

I might have made promises
you can't keep.

We're giving you more cancer.

The risks of that
are kind of obvious.

We'll scan you, run your blood
at frequent intervals.

We believe
this is our best chance

at finding the underlying
genetic flaw.

Will you marry me?

Don't be stupid.

If this cancer
overwhelms me,

at least I'll die happy
here and now,

instead of hoping
for a future

I may never have.

I love you.

No, you don't.

You don't know.
You can't know.

We both need more time.

And I believe
we're gonna have it.

Do you notice she's wearing
different clothes every day?

As opposed to the same,
starfleet-issued tunic?

She said she came
for one night.

Why'd she pack for more?

So she stuffed an extra
sweatshirt in her bag,

or she bought something.

Used? She's here because
an old beau struck gold.

She turned down
a proposal.

How long a game
you think she's playing?

I think if she said yes
after 14 hours,

even he'd be suspicious.

You're lucky you're hot
and smart, because--

well, you're just lucky
you're hot and smart.

I need a hooker.

Not if you can make that work.

How is that
supposed to relax you?

It's not for me.
It's for Chase.

I'm saving myself too.

Maybe you should
get a couple.

You're riding me.
Why not ride him?

Because I can get a rise
out of your BP.

His pp on the other hand...

Forget yoga.
Embrace Zen.

You're a repressed idiot.

He's a horny idiot.

Neither one of you
can do anything about it.

Pretty sure that's Zen.

Thought we were meeting
in Cuddy's office.

And I put one of
the radio frequency

tagged sponges
from the O.R.

In your
portable television.

However much it hurt,

I did have a right
to break up with you.

You just want everything to have
a hidden personal agenda.

You need to get over it

instead of torpedoing
our jobs out of spite.

Couldn't just be that
you're a pain professionally.

Stop!

You're both at fault here.

You for trying
to manipulate House

when you used to know better,

and you for...
Being you,

which an especially bad idea
under the circumstances.

I had good reasons.

You had lame
rationalizations.

If I hadn't played him,

he'd have found out about the
meeting and crashed it anyway.

Would have been
a lot more efficient.

Enough! Okay,
here's what's gonna happen.

Tomorrow I drive
both of you to Arlene's.

You're gonna write her
a personal check for $30,000,

and tell her she can stay
in her own home

with your blessing.

You're gonna do this

because you actually
give a crap about your job

and this hospital
and your mother,

and possibly even House.

And you're gonna say,
"I'm sorry,"

and not utter
one syllable more.

Because I'm an idiot?

No, because if you don't,
I'm gonna tell the pharmacy

to stop issuing Vicodin
prescriptions in my name.

Anything look different?

Not yet.

Where's Jennifer?

She's embezzling money
from my Swiss bank account.

That's what you think,
isn't it?

I'm being taken for a ride?

I think
she wouldn't be here

if you were still
fixing refrigerators.

One random set of numbers

doesn't change human nature.

Those sets of numbers
are what kept me going.

Clutching those tickets,

thinking about the life
I could have,

finding Jennifer again.

So you figure if one
long-shot dream came true

the other one will as well?

You think
you're protecting me.

I think you're sad.

Can't stand to see
somebody happy.

Mom, here's a check.

It's a settlement
for all you've been through.

Of course you can
stay in your home.

It was wrong of me
to suggest otherwise.

I'm sorry.

That we saved your life.

In the way that we did.

B-plus.

I hope this
resolves everything.

I can tell you that both
your daughter and Dr. House--

this is 30 grand.

Which is what
you asked for.

This covers
pain and suffering.

What about
the probate lawyer?

Do you two...

I have to change my will,

leave everything to Julia

so this one doesn't try
more funny business

to get control of my home.

I'm sure we can toss in
another 2,500.

Well, I guess I'll have
to kill you tonight then.

Mom,
I'm not interested in--

You already think
you own my body.

Why not my home too?

Everybody stay calm, and--

You have to lash out at
everyone who tries to help you?

Live in your own kitchen sink
for all I care.

Harsh.

I didn't think
you had a case before,

but that is no way
to talk to a patient.

You are right.

Chase has had his eyes
on this one for months.

Meaning he has eyes?

I paid her 100 bucks.

When he hits on her--

might be tonight,
might be next week--

she's gonna slap him
and storm off.

So your plan is to prove
you're both full of crap

all in one move?

First he'll
compliment her hair.

That's how he breaks the ice.

Next comes some kind of
joke or story.

He's sharpening his harpoon.

Are my moves
this predictable?

She's grabbing his arm.

He's going in
for the kill.

Don't let it
get to you.

Poured a lot of gas
on the fire.

Ultrasound will give us
a good look at the damage.

Little more gel.

I never made a will.

I want to provide for you,
if I don't--

Stop it, will you?

Like you to hold
your breath for a sec.

Your money,
there's charities, causes.

Your family.

You got to ask yourself
what's mattered to you most

year in and year out.

That can't be right.

Is it bad news?

No.

We've been pumping you
with growth factor,

but you don't have
any new cancers.

The tumors you had
all shrank.

Three tumors disappearing
means we were probably wrong

about him missing
a tumor-suppressor gene.

How many mulligans
are you gonna ask for?

This test is what raised
my blood pressure.

I'm used to it now.

Go.

If it's autoimmune

and he created antibodies

that ended up
fighting his own tumors...

Growth factor
would have made

the underlying autoimmune
condition better.

Maybe it was never cancer
in the first place.

Of course it was cancer.
We biopsied.

It could have been
a false positive.

Amyloidosis?

His EKG voltage has been
on the low end of normal.

What if the tumors were actually
protein deposits?

G.I. biopsy to confirm,
chemo to treat.

She's making that diagnosis

based off of low-normal EKG.

Low-normal is still normal.

That thing cannot be right.

Low-normal is still low,

and that thing
does not have money

riding on you being wrong,

like the rest of us do.

Chase fixed this.

Oh, I think you're confusing
Chase and Foreman.

I used to do that
all the time.

I know it's rigged.

Because you're Mr. Cool?

Nothing could
possibly faze--

Because I took
a beta blocker!

Both times, right?

His platelet count's
still low.

Chemo's still
a death sentence.

Treating for amyloid
with normal EKG

is like doing
heart surgery on a guy

because he's
ten pounds overweight.

It's insane.
Well, we'll do it your way--

go shout at the patient
till he gets better.

G.I. biopsy to confirm,
chemo to treat.

Here's the dirty
little secret.

I just think
we are who we are.

And I think
lotteries are stupid.

Janet...hemorrhoid?

That's not my name.
It's why I'm here.

Oh, I see.
It goes across.

We better make this fast,

'cause I'm about to lose

my medical license
for malpractice.

It's nothing unusual.

The head of the hospital's
about to lose hers too.

I heard Cuddy quadrupled
your clinic hours.

Yeah,
but you know what?

I'm flying through patients.

Arlene wants
another meeting.

I know. Told my seconds
to tell her seconds

that she gets
no second chance.

Well, technically,
it's a third chance,

but I don't have thirds.

Cuddy told her the same thing,
more or less.

So you got us on
the same page after all.

I've been thinking
about your irrationality,

and I've come up with a rational
explanation for it.

That's quite a challenge.

You don't want
to let go of Cuddy,

so you're clinging
to the negative interaction,

because some small part of you

thinks the bad stuff
beats nothing at all.

You're almost
making this work.

All you got to do now
is change reality.

Perhaps if I was
the one suing me.

You didn't start it,

but you had the chance
to end it, and you didn't.

You love her, House,

and it's human to hang on,

but you're blowing up
not just your job

but any chance of any kind
of relationship with her again.

Hi.

What's that?

It's a check.

For $10 million.

Uh, I don't know
what to say, I mean...

You already been
so generous.

By hiring you?

Yeah.

For a whopping six figures?
My own blood?

Best friend I ever had?

Year in, year out.

You're wearing contacts
under your glasses?

I must have forgotten
to take them off when I--

They're tinted.

Do you change
your eye color?

Sometimes I like
to mix it up.

I don't understand.
What are you...

Wait, you--
you don't have brown eyes?

Where'd the name
baby bear come from?

It's so long ago,
I don't...

It's a birthmark
on your left breast

in the shape of a bear.

You forgot that?

It's the one thing
I never told you.

That's why
she doesn't know.

It's not like that.
I swear.

Get out.

Get out, both of you.

Come on, man.

Get out.

I'm sorry.

Get out!

Both of you!

You were right.

I'm just another
lottery fool.

My life sucks.
It'll always suck.

He's crashing.

Everything's shutting down.

Patient had
a cardiac arrest,

and his lungs
and liver failed

before we even
started the chemo.

Brain symptoms that
aren't brain symptoms,

tumors that come and go?

It's not amyloidosis.

You're forgetting alopecia.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I thought you were just

listing the things it's not,
alphabetically.

His long lost love
is a fraud.

Thirteen figured that out.

Good for her.

Decades of menial work,

three cancers couldn't
make him die miserable.

She just did.

The truth
made him miserable.

It's like
there's two of me.

Keep the clinic shut down.

But wherever it is,

it's isolated to the
administrative floor.

I'm not gonna
evacuate the whole...

Only way to get
the two of you

in the same place
at the same time.

Reopen everything.

Readmit everyone. Now.

I want you both to know
I'm filing the suit today,

delivering the paperwork
to your counsel's office.

You have to be destructive.

You have to tear things apart.

God forbid you should say

what's really on
that twisted mind of yours?

And you're the great
peacemaker?

Single mom, can't keep a man
long enough to cook a meal.

You'd be dead if it weren't
for our mistreatment.

And somehow you'd still find
something to whine about.

We'll let the court
decide who's whining,

since you're so sure--

We're not getting
back together.

What are you talking about?

It's the only explanation.

Why she keeps making threats

without ever filing her stupid,
yet completely valid lawsuit.

Why she ripped up her will,

why she kicked half
the hospital out on the street.

She wants us united
against her.

This is her drawing blood

over the latest of a long line
of imaginary slights.

She doesn't care if anyone
else is happy for a single--

Look at you idiots.

Who else is gonna put up
with either of you?

I asked you to move in.

That meant we weren't
gonna reconcile.

I'm sorry, mom.

Some things take more
than a common enemy.

Then you're an idiot
with impossible standards.

Common enemy.

One way to trigger
brain symptoms

when there's nothing wrong
with your brain

have something else turn
your brain into a common enemy.

You have a teratoma,

a usually harmless
congenital growth

which can be filled with
almost any kind of tissue.

And, unusually,
not at all harmless.

If I'm right, yours is filled
with primitive cells,

some of which developed
into brain cells.

These foreign cells
leaked into your bloodstream.

Now, the body
is a little xenophobic.

It creates antibodies.

The problem is,
there's not much difference

between brain cells
in your abdomen

and brain cells in your brain.

To make matters worse,

primitive cells can become
almost anything.

Grow like weeds.

Which means they
can turn into tumors,

destroy whole organ systems.

But the cancer?

Was cancer.

Just growing so fast it
collapsed under its own weight.

Am I gonna live?

Cut out the teratoma,
what's left of your cancer,

you should be fine.

Think of it as
your second luckiest day.

It's hard to feel lucky.

The woman I love
was a fraud.

No, actually a fraud
was a fraud.

You fell for her
just the same.

You may stay miserable,

but your long lost love
is not gonna be the reason why.

♪ ♪

♪ lady, don't
throw in the towel ♪

♪ let me dry you off
I'll shower ♪

♪ you used to be
my little sickling ♪

♪ but now it's me
that needs some fixing ♪

♪ I think about you
every second ♪

♪ along with the pain that's
through you, reckon ♪

♪ you used to be
my little sickling ♪

♪ but now it's me that
needs some fixin' ♪

♪ ♪

♪ what is it
about the time and ♪

♪ what is it about
the place and ♪

♪ what is it
about your face ♪

♪ that keeps me on the line ♪

♪ ♪

It's the real Jennifer.

Or at least
the only one to show up

who actually has
the birthmark.

He's renting her
an apartment.

It'll end horribly.

Not for him.

She may take all his money,

and he may be a naive idiot,
but...

He'll always be hopeful,

so he'll always be happy.

You lost your mother.

You euthanized
your brother.

You got the life expectancy
of a pretty good sitcom.

If you can convince yourself

that you'd be miserable
no matter what

even without all that stuff,

then maybe you don't have
to hate the universe

for dumping
a giant turd on you.

Fatalism is your
survival mechanism.

And you?

Dumped by everyone
you've ever loved.

Rehab was a bust.

Your leg feels like somebody
took a giant bite out of it.

We are who we are.

Lotteries are stupid.