All language subtitles for House.S03E03.BDRip.x265-ION265

You're not going to
make this easy, are you?

Unfortunately, as much as I
admire your spirit...

Subject anesthetized with .5 cc's
of sodium pentobarbital.

Transfected with
human hepatic cancer cells.

Undewvent six rounds of intra-abdominal
treatment with es-22.

Vertical incision through the rectus
sheath opens the abdominal cavity.

Incision extended into...

The thorax.

Liver appears normal in color.
No apparent scarring or...

Damn it!

Cancerous tumors still present
on the right lobe,

1.12 centimeters in diameter.
No reduction.

71 -year-old
cancer research specialist.

Minor tremors, a localized melanoma
removed two years ago, cataracts.

And he can't breathe.

Also, disregard the facial lacerations.

They're creepy, but unfortunately
irrelevant.

Don't you wanna know why?

You have your cane.

No, why the lacerations
are creepy.

He was about to dissect one of his lab
rats when he collapsed.

The little vermin seized the day, so to
speak, and went medieval on his ass.

What? My fly open?

So, the pain's returned?

There was no pain.
He was unconscious.

I'm guessing because
he wasn't able to breathe.

We're talking about you.

Obviously. I'm obviously not.

What is it with you people?

I don't use the cane, you're shocked.
I use the cane...

We're just concerned.

About the wrong person.
I can breathe.

Ezra Powell, on the other hand,
is gonna die.

- The Ezra Powell?
- The researcher?

The guy who wrote that textbook?

"That" textbook? The textbook.

Wait. There's actually
another doctor you admire?

I admire lots of doctors.

Of course, most of them look a lot
better in knee socks than Ezra Powell,

but seeing as they
can all breathe...

Chase: Oxygenation is through the floor
and lungs are full of fluid.

Gotta be his heart.

Could be amyloidosis.

Or his lungs, probably from years of
inhaling toxic chemicals in his lab.

Chase: It's not the lungs.
The chest X-ray's clean.

Foreman: So's his EKG.
It's not his heart.

We're being too nice.

Outside the hospital
he can't breathe.

Inside the hospital he can,
because we help,

at least enough to screw with
our test results.

The source of the problem's either
in his heart or his lungs,

so all we gotta do is
stop helping,

put a little pressure on him
and see which gives out first.

At 71, we get his
heart or lungs to give out,

we might not get them to give in again.

That's why we're gonna do it
in a hospital.

Put him on an inclined treadmill
and do a stress EKG.

So much for the admiration.

Let's get you started.
I'll turn your oxygen up.

I worked with Williams on the first
protocol for this machine.

Everyone still uses it.

Except for Williams.
He died four years ago.

I'm sorry.

He was 84. He died parasailing.

He was always an idiot.

You okay?

Hang in there. You know the protocol's
only a few minutes.

Foreman: His heart rate's flat.

If we don't get it past 130,
we're not going to see anything.

And if he falls and breaks a hip, we're
not going to see anything either.

Except an increase
in our malpractice insurance.

I figured house might
go back to the pills,

but if he's using his cane,
he's right back to where he was before.

Maybe even worse.

Luckily, he'll handle it
in a stoic, grown-up fashion.

He'd never take it out on us.

I can't.

I've got to stop.

Just a little longer.

His heart rate's only 90.
I'm going to increase the incline.

I've got to stop.
I've got to get off.

You're doing great.
Just a little faster, okay?

I don't need a cheerleader,
I need oxygen.

Stop. This isn't working.

His heart rate
barely got above 90.

He can't breathe.
There's too much fluid in his lungs.

Really?
He's got fluid in his lungs?

Whatever are we gonna do?
Oh, yeah, now I remember.

Put him on a treadmill and run him like
one of his rats on a wheel.

He can't run.
He can hardly walk.

That's 'cause he's not
trying hard enough.

If he was, his heart rate
would go up.

Exercising with a lung full of
your own bodily fluids tends to hurt.

They don't call it
a stress test for nothing. Do it again.

He's drowning.

Then pull him out of the pool
and do it again.

I'm assuming this isn't
your idea of a long-terrn solution.

We need to get rid
of the fluid in your lungs,

so you'll be able
to do the test.

To see if it's my heart
or my lungs?

Exactly.

My money's on both.

I've been in and out of the hospital
for the past year.

I'm old. I'm sick.
And I'm getting older and sicker.

Not a very interesting
differential but...

I'm in.

You don't need a $400 handbag.

It's kinda hard to check your throat
when you're flapping your gums around.

Sorry.

But it's for the fall formal.

He doesn't care if it's for
the presidential inauguration.

But I'm using Marissa'a
old dress. It's free.

You know what else is free?

The roof over your head, the food
you eat, your phone, your computer.

How long have you
been congested?

All week, ever since we
got back from Fresno.

Fresno? That's in France,
right? See the Parthenon?

California.

I've got no appetite,
I'm aching all over, I'm weak.

- Does that hurt?
- Oh, yeah.

Does his voice always have
that unattractive nasal tone?

Totally.

I'm gonna take that giggle
as a "no".

Fever, aches, weakness,
loss of appetite.

You been having an anal sex
with iv drug users lately?

Of course not. I'm married.

You think she might have
been having...

Probably a rhinovirus.

What's that?

A cold.

Take this four times a day,
and stay off airplanes.

They're flying cesspools.

Oops!

You dropped something.

If there's anything else
you can think of, please call.

- Yes?
- He's too old and weak.

Yeah, this is way better.
This'll work.

Just try.

There are 20 words
to describe chest pain.

Burning, squeezing,
stabbing, tearing...

Each one diagnostically useful.

For that, you have to thank
Dr. Powell's textbook.

But there are no words to describe
degrees of what he's feeling right now.

Shortness of breath.

If he had worked
on those issues, there would be.

He never would have given up
until he had an answer.

This isn't working.

Dr. House...

Please don't get up.

I'm sure you're very busy,

I'm just gonna try
and speed things up a little.

Is that epi?
That's not the protocol.

No. The protocol is what you tried
to do and failed each time.

Over 100. Now we're
getting somewhere.

How does it look, foreman?

No EKG changes.

Then we push harder.

House, you're gonna kill him.

No, he's right. Let him do it.

See? That's why he doesn't
have to wear knee socks.

He can't breathe.

130, our magic number.

Nothing here. Foreman?

Still no sign of blockage.

Which means it's not the heart.
It must be the lungs.

See, that wasn't so hard,
was it?

No. Just give me the rest
of the epinephrine.

The test is over. It's okay.
We're going to stabilize you.

No, just let me die.

You're not gonna die.

Yes, I am.

We'll find a treatment.

I don't want to live like this.

Please, I'm begging you.

Kill me.

He says no more tests.

He wants to die and he wants us
to help him do it.

And I wanna play a little game I like
to call block my spike with misty may.

He's thought this through.
It's not an impulsive decision.

Neither is mine. He's depressed.

He'll feel much better
after we cure him.

He's seen all the tests
we've seen.

Even if we figure out
what's causing the lung damage,

it's too late to reverse it.

You can't know that
without knowing what's wrong.

It's his call.

So what do we do?

Do we just put a plastic bag
over his head and get it over with?

No, we give him
a syringe full of morphine.

Every doctor I've ever practiced with
has done it.

They don't want to,
they don't like to,

- but that's the way it is.
- I haven't. I won't.

I couldn't do it either.

You just said we should
respect his decision.

Respect it doesn't necessarily
mean we honor it.

Right. It just means
we talk about it.

At some point, "do no harm" has to mean
allowing nature to take its course,

not stubbornly
standing in the way of it.

Sticking a metal syringe
into a plastic iv line and pumping in

a lethal dose of morphine is not
letting nature take its course,

not according to
the state of New Jersey.

So it's better we allow him
to slowly suffocate in his own plasma?

Whose side are you on, senator?

First respect his wishes, then invade
Iraq, then get the troops home.

- Make up your mind.
- Wow.

There's certainly a lot of interesting
things to consider.

The stress EKG
rules out the heart,

which means something's
gotta be attacking his lungs.

Could be mycoplasma
or strep pneumo, which probably means

it's too late
to do anything about it.

We could try ievofloxacin.

Coming up with a new treatment
isn't gonna do us any good

unless we convince him
it's worth trying.

Come on. He's old
and sick and tiny.

And we can do
whatever we want to him.

What happened?

I don't know.

He must have fallen out of bed

and got the nasal cannula
wrapped around his neck somehow.

Ezra, what are you doing?

I don't want to live hooked to machines,
too weak to wipe my own ass.

Why would you want to
wipe your own ass

when you could have someone
do it for you?

You're wasting your time.

There must be other patients
you could actually help.

All services rendered
on a first come, first served basis.

I won't consent
to any more tests.

And if anyone tries to
so much as touch me,

I'll press charges for assault.

You heard the man.

He wants everyone to leave him alone.
Why don't you go first?

Get out!

You came to me.
I didn't come to you.

I figured you'd have the guts

to do what had to be done
if it came to that.

We're nowhere near that.
It's time to test your lungs.

Breathe!

You're gonna have to
exhale sometime.

Stop!

House, you're hurting him.

You're hurting me.

Fine. If you don't help us,
we don't help you.

Your lungs slowly
fill with fluid.

You gasp to catch every breath,
but never can.

Every breath is petrifying.

It'll be slow,
painful, torturous.

We don't choose our birth.
And we don't choose our death.

What if you could?
How about we make a deal?

Give me one more day.

If I don't find out exactly
what's wrong with you by then,

- I'll help you die.
- House.

Twenty-four hours.

Come on,
it's not gonna kill you.

Old guy, lungs, fluid. Go.

You cannot help him
kill himself.

Of course I can.

Chase says we do it
all the time.

- Cuddy is not gonna let you.
- Enough!

You don't want me to kill him.
Fine.

Here's a big shock.
I don't want to kill him either.

How do I not kill him?
By you guys doing your job.

We have 24 hours to figure out
what's wrong with him.

Tick-tock, tick-tock.

I'll draw cultures. Pneumonia.
Should be bacteria in his blood.

That's gonna take
longer than 24 hours.

Not if I spin down the sample.

Separate off the Buffy coat,
then gram stain for bacteria.

Great. Do an amylase, d-dimer,
c-reactive peptide, get a urine,

and do a bronchial sputum
while you're at it.

And you, check his home
and lab for radiation and toxins.

And do a bone marrow biopsy.

- All of that in 24 hours?
- Nah.

Whatever you don't get done,
you can finish at the autopsy.

Wow. You guys look like crap.

- What have you got?
- Purple dye on my fingers.

- What did the bone marrow biopsy show?
- I don't have the results.

What? What have you
been doing all night?

Jell-o shots and wild sex,
what else?

Foreman: There's no bacteria
in the blood cultures.

We still have some cooking,
but so far, nothing.

Nothing in the urine.

Lab was clean enough to do surgery in,
because, well, they do.

And there was no sign of viruses
or fleas on any of the rats.

Yeah.

Who?

Tell her to call the clinic.

Then tell her to leave a message
and I'll get back to her.

Then tell her to leave
a personal message.

- Who's that?
- That's your protégé.

What are these?

Dictation tapes. He records everything.

Why?

Because he's
a diligent researcher?

Or he's losing his memory.

A lot of people
dictate their notes.

Yes, we could assume that
and we'd have nothing.

Or we could assume
it's a symptom,

in which case whatever's in his lungs
is also in his brain,

unless you've got
something more promising.

I'll go get an mri of his head.

Keep testing
till you find something.

I'm going to my office
to rest for a while.

It's been a long time
since I took an anatomy class,

but I'm pretty sure you're moving
farther and farther away from my lungs.

Running out of places to look,
aren't you?

It doesn't mean
we're gonna stop looking.

Oh, no. Not for six more hours.

- Do you want us to fail?
- No.

But you will.

No abnormal nuclei means
no leukemia. He a drinker?

Not according to the history.

Which means yes, he drinks,

which gives us a nice mundane
explanation for the acellularity.

Or he's telling the truth, which means
fungus is still on the table.

But your entire view
of human nature gets destroyed.

Six of one,
half a dozen of the other.

Bad news fast. Good news,
you can take your time.

Head's clean. You were wrong.
His faculties are intact.

Too bad.
If his brain was addled,

we wouldn't have
to listen to anything he says.

Hand me the 10 percent koh.

It's 4:00.
We have nothing to tell him.

Then we have no reason to talk to him.
We still haven't ruled out fungus.

Yeah, we have.
No bugs, no hyphae.

Okay. Next procedure.

We sneak in,
turn back the clock.

Whole team. Must be bad news.

Nope.

Your bone marrow biopsy
revealed multiple myeloma.

It's not good news,
but there are some treatments.

- I need to draw some blood.
- What about my breathing?

Associated hyper-viscosity syndrome

gummed up the blood vessels
in your lungs.

Dr. Chase said
my calcium is normal.

We call him Dr. Idiot.

There's no
m protein in my urine.

Odd presentation.

It's so odd that Dr. Cameron
doesn't believe it either.

Just give me 12 more hours.

We had a deal. No more tests.

Fair enough.
Give me six more hours.

Listen, there is no evidence
that you are terminal.

You a man of your word or not?

No, as a matter of fact,
I'm not.

Fine. Then discharge me.

My lungs will slowly
fill with fluid.

I'll gasp to
catch every breath, but never can.

Every breath will be petrifying.
It'll be slow, painful, torturous.

You really gonna
let me die like that?

- Where are you going?
- Nowhere.

Everybody who can walk
should get out of here.

- You can't do that.
- I can't do what?

Administer a prescription pain killer
to a patient who's in pain?

Make sure somebody sees you
downstairs in the cafeteria.

I can't let you do this.

Either I die in pain
or I just die.

That's what the argument is here.

No. It's about whether
you die or we murder you.

What's gonna happen here

is that someone's
getting a buttload of morphine.

I'm not sure exactly who
at this point.

I can't be a part of this.

Thank you.

I always wondered exactly what
was on the other side.

Nothing.

What are you doing?

Getting a iaryngoscope.

Don't just stand there, help!

But you told him that...

A little something
I like to call a lie.

It's bad, I know, but it's way further
down the list than murder.

He's unconscious.
No more whining.

We can keep testing him.

Go get a ventilator.
I'm not gonna do this all night.

House: We can legally assume
that he'd consent

to whatever a reasonable person
would consent to.

And a reasonable person would
obviously consent to being put

in a coma against their will
just to satisfy your curiosity?

I try to kill him, you're mad.
I don't kill him, you're mad.

All he wanted was some dignity.

Were you in that room with him?

Was he wearing a tux while he
was choking on his own plasma?

Keep doing the tests. Take your time.
Do it right. Go! Get to work.

Wait!

Cameron, why did you do these cuts
so far down on this mri of his head?

I wanted to get his brain stem
and his c-spine

to make sure his diaphragm
wasn't paralyzed.

You also caught the top of his lungs.
There's scarring.

You do know that you can't really Pierce
me with your stares.

Lung scarring along with the bad bone
marrow points to an autoimmune disease.

- Could be pulmonary fibrosis.
- Or lupus.

He can kill himself
after we get him better.

Start him on an ivig
for the lupus and get a colonoscopy.

The lupus could be hiding there.

I can't do this.

Drama queen.

Descending colon's clean.

Moving into the sigmoid...

We sure could use
a little more help around here.

She's doing what
she believes in.

Yeah, if she was acting on principle,
she'd be in here trying to stop us.

All she's doing is
running away from the principle,

so she won't have to feel
uncomfortable facing it.

And if you were
acting on principle,

you would have called the cops

when you thought house
was killing the guy.

- We better hurry up.
- Why?

'Cause I don't think she's
gonna have a problem

deciding what to tell cuddy.

Foreman: 02 sats,
89 and dropping.

I thought you were only
supposed to put on

a pound a week
during your last trimester.

I'm not pregnant.

I heard about
your little stunt with Dr. Powell.

Not really a stunt.
More of a trick. A ruse, a hoodwink.

- A lie.
- Okay.

Lying is sometimes good, right?

Like when you're trying to teach someone
a lesson about humility or something.

All I'm trying to do is save his life.
He's not gonna learn anything.

I just thought
the same principle might apply.

It does.

I could have just let him die.

We're not gonna get sued
for keeping him alive.

We could.
I completely disregarded his wishes.

Do you want me to disagree with you?
You want me to yell at you?

It is comforting.

We're doctors.
We treat patients, we don't kill them.

How right you are, Dr. Cuddy!

We also don't pad our bills,
swipe samples from the pharmacy,

or fantasize about the teenage daughters
of our patients, either.

True. It better be true,
and you're a pig.

I'm sorry about your leg.

Yeah. We really should
spend some time talking about that.

The ivig made him worse.

02 sats plummeted.

So we know it's not lupus.

What else could it be?

Idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis.

We're gonna need
an open lung biopsy to confirm.

So now we're gonna
operate on the guy?

Well, unless you've invented
a new way of doing an open lung biopsy.

When you searched
Dr. Powell's office,

did you find a copy of the January 1967
Massachusetts medical journal?

Why?

I just figured
if you're not doing any work,

you might like something
to pass the time.

The centerfold's a killer.

How's your leg?

It hurts. And it's gonna
keep on hurting.

- You gonna keep on asking?
- How's Ezra Powell?

Resting comfortably.

That's not what Cameron says.

I hate practicing medicine
in high school.

He's not asking you to help him kill
himself. He's just asking for help.

The disease will kill him.

I know what he was asking for.
I just said, "no."

You've done it before,
plenty of times.

To patients that I knew
were terminal.

Oh, give me a break.

This has nothing to do
with saving a life.

You just can't bear
the thought of a patient dying

before you've been able to
figure out why.

If we're gonna keep refusing
to cure patients just to rein in my ego,

then we might start having a little
problem in patient recruitment.

Worried about meeting
your one-patient-a-week quota?

I'm a cripple, remember?
Accommodations must be made.

Wedge of left lobe isolated,
and removed.

Clamp.

Why'd you have me
look up that article?

Did you find it interesting?

He injected newborn babies
with radioactive agents

just to see
if they had urethral reflux.

He was curious.

He didn't even tell their parents
he was doing an experiment.

He wasn't doing anything
his peers weren't doing.

His peers at tuskegee
and willowbrook?

He ignored the rights of a few
to save many.

So you're okay with what he did?

It doesn't matter what I think.

It's what you think
that's relevant.

Because if I think
less of him, I'll help you more?

You're wrong.

The fact that a patient did bad things
doesn't change anything.

He still deserves to
have some control over his own body.

If he had control
over his own body, he'd be dead.

Some control. We can withhold
treatment without killing him.

No, you can't!

You either help him live or you help
him die. You can't have it both ways.

Well, I guess it's not ipf.

Maybe he'll die right now,
make everything easy for all of us.

- Heart rate's fast.
- BP's low.

No breath sounds on the right side.
He's dropped his right lung.

Air's building up in his chest,
compressing his heart.

Heart rate's decreasing.

BP's stabilizing.

What are you doing?

He withdraws from pain stimuli
on the left side but not the right.

Those are just reflex arcs.

He's under anesthesia.

Or he's lost sensation
in some places.

Or the hypoxia from the arrest
stunned his cns.

Only one way to tell.
Do somatosensory evoked potentials.

We can't do that
while he's in a coma.

Only two ways to tell. Get a hammer
and check his deep tendon reflexes.

It won't work. He needs muscle relaxants
to be on the ventilator.

Only one more way to tell.
Pupillary reflexes.

- All that tests is the brain stem.
- See, I was right.

Only one way to tell.
Do somatosensory evoked potentials.

I just said, we can't do that
while he's in a coma.

So wake him up.

Don't go towards the light.

You'll fall and break your hip.

What's happening? I...

You took a little nap.

I thought I told you
I didn't want...

Sorry. A little deaf in one ear.

Your bone marrow
is hypocellular.

We've ruled out lupus
and pulmonary fibrosis.

But it looks like it could be
attacking your nerves.

So this is all a waste?
A huge failure?

Impossible.
You're Gregory house.

We need to attach some sensors
to your skin.

Look, we can't do what you want.

We've assigned a nurse to watch you,
so you can't do it either.

So you might as well
just let us do the test.

No. I want to be discharged.

You can't be discharged.
You've got two chest tubes in.

Then take them out!

Oh, get over yourself.

The ventilator puffed up your lungs.
You'll be fine for a few hours.

Just let us run the tests.

Okay.

But first,
let's clean you up a little.

- What...
- Does that feel nice?

- What are you trying to prove?
- Just cleaning him up.

What does it look like?

Pay no attention
to the man behind the curtain.

Get out!

Okay, I'm going already.
Can't you see I'm a cripple?

Okay, so you've got me curious.

I was right.

Whatever is attacking his lungs
is attacking his nerves.

And you got that by
splashing ice water on him?

No sensation in the left leg,
abdomen, right arm.

Technology's overrated.

That means the clean mri
of his brain means

it's just affecting
the peripheral nerves.

And bone marrow.

Kawasaki's would explain
the kidney failure.

- So would lymphoma.
- So would sarcoidosis.

All potentially treatable.
The question is which?

We need to catch
the little bastards in the act.

What's the largest organ?

- Skin.
- We need to get a piece.

Sure. We'll just wait until he leaves
his room without his skin,

sneak in and take a piece.

I want you to get
a skin sample for a biopsy.

And I want to get a foot massage
from Johnny Damon.

Kawasaki's disease, lymphoma,
and sarcoidosis are all treatable.

And it could be a hundred other things
that aren't treatable. You have no idea.

But you do.

- You know everything.
- I didn't say that I...

Exactly!

You can't decide if we're helping
or hurting him.

If it's good or bad, or if you want
paper, plastic, or a burlap sack.

Do your damn job.

I'm not gonna lie to him.

Fine. Tell the truth.
Just get me a pound of flesh.

What do you want?

House wants to biopsy your skin.
He sent me to get it.

And you agreed?

I had nothing to do with putting you in
a coma or any of the subsequent tests.

Which brings us to now.

I read some of your articles.

There were a lot of them.

1967 Massachusetts medical journal.

You radiated babies, just like that.
No forms, no questions, nothing.

Who knows how many cancers
you caused?

I don't know.

But what I do know is,
we discovered techniques that

prevent fatal kidney failures
in hundreds of thousands of other kids.

You're not sorry.

I don't regret what I did.

Informed consent, patient rights...
Holds back research.

What the hell are you doing?

Informed consent
is holding back our diagnosis.

Good for you.

Finally standing up for something.
Acting on what you believe.

Dr. House? Hi. How are you?

Not as good as you think I am.

Don't worry, I'm not stalking you.
My dad just lost his medicine.

I needed to come back
for another prescription.

Yeah, right.

He's moving it
on the street, isn't he?

Yeah, my dad, the meth kingpin.

Why haven't you returned
any of my calls?

I plan to in a couple of years.

I was just calling to say thank you
and to tell you how impressed I was.

You diagnosed my dad
by just looking at him.

I felt his glands, too.

Well, there's my dad.
I've got to go.

Yeah, me, too.

And, you really don't have to wait
a couple of years to return my calls.

Just six months, till I turn 18.

It's not kawasaki's either.
What's next?

Congo red.

Amyloidosis?

What the hell else
would I mean by Congo red?

It's not on the list.

There's no reason
for it to be on the list.

An abnormal protein is building up
inside the cells of his body,

shutting down his organs one by one.
It explains everything.

The infiltrates on the X-ray,
the bone marrow, kidney failure.

We rejected amyloidosis because it
didn't fit the first symptom we found.

- It would affect his heart.
- It did.

It wasn't on the stress test.

We didn't push him hard enough.

Add the stain
and let's find out.

Congo red added.

Change the polarization
of the light already.

That means
it should be treatable.

How the hell did you
pull that out of...

Not out of mine. I had a muse.

Oh, god. Protein type aa.

Dr. House...

You have amyloidosis.

It's in your lungs, kidneys,
bone marrow and brain.

Why should I believe you now?

If I was lying, I wouldn't tell you
the sub-type is aa.

It's terminal.

Congratulations.

You got your answer.

Ezra Powell
passed away last night.

I'm sure you already
knew about that.

No, I just got in.

The nurse charted at 2:00 am.

He was stable,
breathing labored but regular.

Then, at 2:30, he suddenly stopped.
You know anything about that?

If I did, would you
really want to know?

I'm proud of you.