Wilson reports that the virtual colonoscopy was clean. Much cleaner than a real colonoscopy would have been, I'd say. House finds it odd that a patient would rather die than have a regular colonoscopy, and enters his office to tell the Cottages that. He asks if they have any other suggestions for what's wrong with Carly, and glances down at the angiogram films. He throws them up on the wall and asks if anyone sees anything wrong with them. No one does. House says that he's looking at pictures of two left feet, meaning that either Carly is a terrible dancer or someone took two pictures of her left leg instead of one of the left and one of the right. Cameron and Foreman shake their heads and put their hands on their faces, all "oh shit, Chase is gonna get it now!" Chase jumps up and looks at the films while House looks at the paperwork. He notices that a resident named "Jenny" signed off on it. "Were you even in the room?" he asks. Chase stammers that he'll redo the angiogram. "You'll do NOTHING!" House shouts. He takes a minute to settle, and then tells Foreman to do the angiogram. "I can't believe I did that," Chase says. Yeah, of all the things to screw up, the condition that your boss has a personal issue with would be the absolute worst.
Carly asks why she's getting another angiogram. Foreman says that there was a "shadow" on the first, neglecting to mention that that's what hypothetically might have been on it, had they actually gotten a picture of her right leg. Carly complains that her chest hurts. Foreman tells her not to worry about that, even though every single time a patient starts complaining of something minor, it immediately turns into a seizure or respiratory arrest, which is the case here. The Magic School Bus Cam shows fluid going into Carly's lungs. "She's drowning!" Foreman says.
House stares at the Whiteboard of Symptoms. Standing out in the hallway, for whatever reason, Cameron tells him that they drained the fluid from Carly's lungs and stabilized her, and that the real angiogram showed no clot in her leg. "I'm thrilled," House says non-thrilledly. We go into a montage of him staring at the whiteboard and twirling his cane, and then he erases the board and writes down Carly's "psych symptoms," which include withholding pain, shame, and, of course, CONTROL.
Carly sleeps, but she is not alone. House lifts up the sheet over her leg, revealing an intricate pattern of old and new cuts. Nothing would be a better lesson to him on the importance of wearing a doctor-identifying white coat than for Carly to wake up right now, see some strange guy staring at her thigh, pull out the handgun she always keeps under her pillow for CONTROL purposes, and shoot him. But she doesn't, and House remains white coat-less.