Cameron bounds into House's office, where her boss compliments her for putting a file on his desk chair, forcing him either to deal with its contents or never sit down again. Or he could just pick it up and put it somewhere else, like I always do, only to forget about them and then get in trouble for not paying that car insurance bill I buried under all the other stuff I didn't want to deal with. Cameron says she promised Cindy that House would see her, and House says he doesn't know why Cameron did that when Cindy has a clear-cut case of metastatic squamous cell lung cancer and six months to live. Cameron asks House if he even looked at the x-ray, and House says no, he was just guessing. Duh, Cameron. Cameron says that a few spots on an x-ray do not a lung cancer diagnosis make, and House calls her a hopeful child, adding that the other lung has swollen lymph nodes, ruling out pretty much every other diagnosis. But Cameron still wants to brainstorm. House looks at her, grabs Cindy's x-ray and slaps it up on a lightboard, and then starts writing. Cameron's all happy that she's finally getting what she wants for once and starts doing a differential diagnosis session before realizing that all House is writing on the lightboard are the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and ACCEPTANCE. I'm not exactly sure what the bargaining is doing there, because it's not like you can bargain with cancer for a life extension. "From your tear-filled, puppy-dog eyes, I think I made my point. Now go tell Cindy Whatever-her-name-is that she's dying," House orders, and he's off to the meeting room. Oh, man, we aren't even fifteen minutes into the second season and Cameron's eyes are already tear-filled. This bodes not well, my friends.