What's that? It's not a tumor, it's another bleed. This one's in his kidney. And his thigh. He's bleeding all over the place. His timetable may be right on. That's creepy. The patient predicted his own death. Would have been more impressive if he predicted that he wasn't going to die. Of course that takes longer to prove. Could be a symptom. Sense of impending doom. Yeah, could be adrenal gland disorders, blood issues, anaphylaxis. If you're going to kiss his ass, protect your ass, at least wait until he's had a good idea. It's a symptom of him being a charlatan. It's a secondary condition of a mysterious illness. Why wouldn't he predict his own death? If he's wrong, we all forget it. If he's right, he goes out a legend. He got scared right after a transfusion. Tainted blood has been known to cause a sense of impending doom. Could also explain the DIC. I predict all your pagers go off right now. If it had happened. Anyone bother looking at his panel? His immunoglobulin levels are low. That doesn't tell us anything specific. Are you acting stupid because you know you're safe? Clever. Low immunoglobulin, plus failing heart, plus fluid in the lungs, plus internal bleeding equals amyloidosis. He's bleeding way too much for amyloidosis. Anything about his hands or feet feeling weak? He said his hands felt numb, but that's explained by the blood loss. No! Do not give me credit for that. Close doesn't count. It's how people get sucked into this stupidity. He's seizing. Somebody's stabilizing. The rest of you, pull his medical records. Go back ten years. Look for joint pain, fatigue, anything associated with amyloidosis. You might want to think about repositioning the crosswalk. It's technically not a violation, but the closer they are to the entrance, the more likely they are to be used. Make sense? Listen, I'm actually expecting it till next month. Yeah, it's the problem with planned visits. Administrators plan for them. The most recent New Jersey hospital accreditation requirements. Yeah, I know. Who is that? I have no idea. Shall we get started? Just let me go. I won't press charges. Forget the whole thing. That's probably true, seeing as how you have a brain tumor. You're that nutjob doctor that keeps calling my publicist. Actually, I'm the nutjob head of diagnostic medicine. I run every day. I don't get headaches. I'm fine. So if you don't mind... Actually, I do mind. I don't care if you die. But if Brock Sterling dies, Anna never finds out he's the father of Marie's baby. Help! Help! We're going to need a wheelchair! Here! Look, in the last month, your average line reading has slowed from 2.1 seconds to 2.9. You're pausing more, always at the same intervals, every seven to nine words. Which means you're having trouble reading one side of the teleprompter. Which means a peripheral vision problem, which means a tumor in your occipital lobe. Just one test. If there's nothing wrong, I'll take you right back home. Make a cab fare. I want you anywhere near my house. I just put it in my spot. So the nutjob was right. He usually is. He said I was dying. He's wrong a lot, too. That's why we do these tests. It's my heart, doctor. It's racing. I'm sure it's nothing. You're a healthy woman, Marie. Shouldn't you examine me? Why don't you have Rico do it? You can't tell me you didn't notice that pause. Sorry. What's this, the A.V. club? It's diagnostic. Everything's under control. Yeah. Excellent job so far. How's outside? Keep watching. You'll never guess what Rico's got in that box. Rico doesn't even know I'm alive. You have an obsession with an actor or the character he plays, I feel for you. You need to work it out. But I need you to do it when the hospital's accreditation and my job are not on the line. You want the star of the hottest daytime drama on TV to die in your hospital? No, I want you to cure him without committing any more felonies. There's nothing wrong with this naughty. It's not B6 toxicity. Did he just finish? Sometimes when you have him, you know, for a while. His heart rate's through the roof. 220 and climbing. He's headed for cardiac arrest. What? He's headed for cardiac arrest. What are you doing here? Just grabbing a snack. You keep food in the morgue? If I keep it in the lounge, everyone else eats it. That's because it's everyone else's food. Oh, that was just everyone else's bags. The accreditation board will let us on fire for this. I can find out. Unless, of course, Conway planned on inspecting the morgue in, say, two minutes. Is that why you're here? You're going to get me fired over a sandwich? No, over a TV. You're not going to get fired because you're going to fold. No, I won't. But you're going to push it. So we need a safe word. So you can signal your unconditional surrender. Call me Sweet Sauce. Dr. House. I don't think we've met. Dr. Jamie Conway. I've heard your name. Most people have. It's also a noun. I sometimes come down here to relax, unwind, maybe grab a... Sweet Sauce. It's a nickname. An ironic nickname. You made it to page eight. Mysterious hospital visits are so dark. Well, I'll be sure to send my mom a copy. They told me I have an autoimmune disease. Like lupus or sarcoidosis. That's what we're here to find out. When I get out of here, I'm not going to be afraid anymore. I mean, how many guys get a second chance? Too many. Half the people I save don't deserve a second chance. Now that I've got mine, I'm going to set things right. I'm going to start by being a better father to you. To your sister. To your other sister. You realize you're reciting lines from last season. We're going to do all the things I promised. Just help me get out of this bed. Get out of this bed. There's some cooling blankets in here. This guy's brain is about to boil. You know where you are? What's your name? Dr. Baxter. It's an allergy. That's why it's not responding to antibiotics. This isn't a soap opera house. People don't just wake up from comas the second you give them drugs. Especially if we give them the wrong drugs. What did the tests say? It was negative for fungus and parasites, but that doesn't mean... The more infections we rule out, the more likely it is that it's not an infection. He has no history of allergies or asthma. Most importantly, none of his symptoms remotely resemble an allergic reaction. Allergens could trigger an allergic vasculitis. That would explain the symptoms. One in a million times. Septic infection always explains the symptoms. But infection is never resistant to every antibiotic. Infection is rarely resistant. And allergy never responds to antibiotics. Never beats rarely. QED, I win. 100 milligrams of methylprednisolone is an overdose. You were wrong about the infection. He's suffering from a severe allergic reaction. The team hasn't finished the test for allergy. His symptoms don't... In rare cases... Trust me, at the end of this conversation, I'm right. Then confirm it. Get a blood test. What is it about this severe and deepening coma that makes you think we've got time for protocol? Protocol has saved your patient from having his thyroid destroyed and his blood drained. If you think I'm wrong, tell me I'm wrong. I'm talking about protocol. Tests are negative. Patient's negative for all floral allergies. I'm going to restart the antibiotics. Antibiotics. If he's still alive. Amisilin, 2 grams IV. Why? The steroids worked. House was right. Test was negative. Still right. It was an allergy. To what? Thank you. So who's sick? 35-year-old single mom. It's an odd presentation of paralysis. Does she have a history of drug use? No. She says there's no history. She's not a liar. Okay, this is going to be a tough case. I have almost no knowledge of alien physiology. Everyone lies, but there's an exception to every rule. Actually, there isn't. That's kind of what makes it a rule. The patient's mother died of breast cancer when she was seven. She never even knew her mom was sick. She promised herself she would never hide anything from her own daughter. Oh. I didn't know she promised. And we're not her daughter. The patient inherited the BRCA1 mutation from her mom. She had a prophylactic double mastectomy ten years ago. She lied about it. She told her co-worker. She told her kid. She lied to the world. Reconstructive surgery is designed to convince people that... She didn't get reconstructive surgery. Okay, we can rule out breast cancer. Actually, I was going to rule it in. Paralysis could be paraneoplastic. Even the best surgeon can't remove every cell of breast tissue. MRI what's left of her chest. Set the machine to scan for irony. I'm going to go redo the patient history. Your mom tell you about all the drugs she does? She smokes pot once in a while, but not in a long time. What about you? How would that make her sick? Are you a doctor? Are you a doctor? I'm 11. That's not an answer. That's an evasion. Are you drinking? You ever sneak a drink? I don't do any of that stuff. It's bad for you. I understand why you don't want your mom to know. But I'm her doctor, so... Yeah, I would tell my mom. And I would tell you. Why? Because she would never lie to me. What's her favorite way to have sex? I don't get what sex has to do with breast cancer. Are you a doctor? Did you go to med school since the last time I asked? You just think we've got to be aligned. White lies? More or less. Those are lies we tell to make other people feel better. I don't lie. Rationalizations? More or less. Those are lies we tell to make ourselves feel better. No, we don't... Flies on a mission? Saddle Brock or Doggy? That's sex talk. She used to like being on top, but now she likes to be on her stomach. That way she doesn't have to see them looking at her scars. How are you feeling? I still can't move my hands. It'll take a few more hours to cycle all your blood through the machine. What just happened? Nothing. What's wrong? What do you mean? The lights just went out. Didn't they? What did you do? Is this from the drugs? The drugs should be out of your system by now. I can't see. Do something! I can't see! I can't see!