Wilson is only too happy to announce that House hasn't had any Vicodin in over a day. Cameron looks flummoxed; Foreman is more "oh, gotcha" and asks if it's House's leg. Duh, Foreman. Foreman lectures House about the side effects of detox while Cameron looks panicky, but House isn't trying to hear that and asks in a yell if he's the only one "who cares about a dying kid?" Chastened, the Housemartins return to the subject of the diagnosis; Chase volunteers that the most likely culprits for throwing a clot are infection or cancer. Wilson reminds them it ain't cancer. Foreman says his tests did not reveal an infection; House points out that certain things can hide from the tests Foreman performed, and is about to elaborate on that thought when he gets distracted by a hottie doing stretches in a neighboring office. The Housiputians talk amongst themselves. Coming back to himself, House asks what happened. Foreman, testily: "It's an infection? In his heart?" "Great!" House chirps, orders an echo and antibiotics, and goes back to bird-dogging while the Housizens pull "oh, Alice" faces and gather up their things in the background. Wilson joins House in observing the hottie. House: "Is it my birthday?"
Not exactly; the hottie is a masseuse. There follows a reasonably funny but not terribly pertinent exchange about whether she's actually a hooker (she isn't) and how Wilson is jealous because he's married (boooo) and then the hottie comes in and starts doing some nutty thing with House's hand that makes him squirm and moan, and he's already sort of sweaty from the withdrawal...it's pretty hot in a weird kind of way. Hottie: "Take off your clothes." Sars: "...Sweet!" Scene: "Sorry, I'm over." Sars: "...Lame!"
Cut to Larry's room for the obligatory hospital-food joke. Chase is performing an ultrasound on Larry's chest, and when Larry asks if he shouldn't be doing it on Larry's eye instead, Chase says awkwardly that they're focusing on the cause of the clot, not the clot itself. "So the blindness would be...permanent," Larry says. Reluctantly, Chase nods, and looks at Dad. Dad rubs Larry's head. Larry does more I'm Blind, BLIND I TELL YOU! acting. Chase chews his lip. The Piano of Damn You, Mystery Ailment is sad and plinky.