Cuddy's on the phone, making what sounds like a tennis date. When someone enters her office, she gets off the phone and asks what's up. It's Foreman, and although he doesn't speak, his "I HATE HOUSE" look makes his intentions pretty clear. I told you that look would be back.
Chase and Cameron load Elizabeth Mitchell into the oxygen chamber. She nervously asks how confident House is in this diagnosis. I don't remember that line being in Scriptures, but it's been a long time since I was in Sunday school. Cameron tells her that her violent reaction to the prednisone told them she had a serious problem with her immune system. Elizabeth Mitchell: "Then I guess it was a blessing...of sorts." Heh. Don't worry, Elizabeth, there's only...uh, more than half the episode left. Oh, dear. When you're hoping beyond hope that a guy in a Santa suit will come back and steal screentime from you, you are having one shitty episode. So to speak, again.
Chapel, I assume in the hospital. House watches what I can only think is General Hospital on a hand-held TV. Aw, he finally found a quiet place in which to view it! And the doctors on the show are even wearing Santa hats. I hope they know about that smoking therapy. Anyway, House's fun is interrupted by Sister Eucharist, who tells him they're in a house of prayer. House: "That explains the good reception." The nun tells House that Elizabeth Mitchell believes in things that aren't real, and has been known to LIE. Ooh, she deserves to die for that. Diagnose her again, House! The nun says that Elizabeth Mitchell is a hypochondriac, and that the Mother Superior always lets her off work duties for ailments that never seem to have any cause. It's nice to know that she's been having symptoms time out of mind, but it wasn't until she came to see our crack infectious-diseases team that she found herself paying repeat visits to death's door. House thinks that must irritate Sister Eucharist, who concedes that it bothers her: "It's not really in [Elizabeth Mitchell]'s best interests." Sister, as long as you're in the chapel, you might as well admit that the wig isn't in her best interests either. House, who's chomping on a Hershey's bar, asks Sister Eucharist if she wants some. I'm surprised Hugh Laurie can stomach that, considering how much better British chocolate is than American. Sister Eucharist says she shouldn't, although whether that's because it's a form of temptation or because letting habits out is a bitch is unclear. Anyway, she scarfs down some chocolate, and House pays her a compliment, only to then opine that she's committed four of the seven deadly sins. Sister Eucharist, unfazed, goes right back at him, saying he has a gift, but that he hides behind his intelligence. House: "Yeah, that's pretty stupid." Hee. She adds that he makes jokes because he's afraid to take anything seriously. I hate people who do that. Sister Eucharist says she barely knows him, but she hopes he's right: "The alternative is, you really are as miserable as you seem to be." House: "From the way you're looking at me right now, I'd say you just hit number five. Lust." Oh, man, at least take it outside, you two. God shouldn't have to cringe in his own house. Sister Eucharist hands the chocolate back to House and leaves, and House goes back to the wonderful world of Port Charles, where people never ever LIE.