Lupe is done with total body radiation. She's not feeling well, and I sure hope that was necessary. If not, well, at least she still has her memory, unlike some people. Foreman and Cameron check her out. A funny moment where Foreman tells a blabbering Cameron to shut up turns very unfunny when Foreman hears a murmur in Lupe's heart. Suddenly, Lupe's in severe pain from the pressure of a simple blood pressure cuff. I guess that's supposed to mean something's gone wrong, but those blood pressure cuffs can really hurt sometimes. A friend of mine once got stuck in one of those blood pressure tester machines at a pharmacy. It was pretty funny to watch, but she said it was very painful.
But for Lupe, it's much worse. She feels intense pain at just the slightest touch. That's not a symptom of cancer, the other Cottages point out to Foreman. It's Anti-CIPA. Also: sepsis. Foreman doesn't want to believe it, because it means that she had a simple infection all along and they just did the worst thing possible for it by frying her immune system. Everyone's pretty grim, although they maintain that they tested Lupe for an infection and found nothing. Apparently, they missed something in her heart, so, way to go with those tests, Cameron! House says once they find the infection in Lupe's heart, they can go tell her she's about to die. Funny how those diagnostic tests don't work in time to prevent someone from having an unnecessary total body radiation, but they do work in time for you to find out what's about to kill you. Foreman volunteers to be the bearer of bad news.
Bonnie rushes into House's office trying to sell him another condo. Poor Bonnie; she really, really needs to sell a condo. Even though she knows House is a waste of time, she keeps trying. So he has to straight-up tell her that he doesn't want a condo, and he never did. He was wasting her time to serve his own selfish ends. Bonnie looks like she's about to cry. I feel really bad for her. This is why I can't bring myself to hang up on telemarketers. Bonnie decides to tell House a little story about how Hector the dog got his name. Apparently, he was the worst dog ever. He never did what he was supposed to and peed all over their rugs. Sounds like someone sucks at dog-training almost as much as she sucks at real estate. "'Hector Does Go Rug' is an anagram for 'Doctor Greg House,'" Bonnie explains. I guess that makes sense if you say things like "Hector does go rug." Maybe Bonnie would sell more condos if she spoke better English. Maybe I'm just resentful because most of the anagrams you can make out of my name have the word "ass" and "rim" in them. Anagrams suck! But anyway, even that early in her marriage, Bonnie says, she resented House. And now that she's got the golden opportunity and the emotional worked-up-edness, she's gonna say the stuff she's always wanted to say to him: House always needed Wilson. He didn't care that Wilson had a wife at home who needed him, too. She won't blame House for ruining her marriage, but she says he certainly didn't help. And then she starts to leave, thinking she's had the last word. But no, House has a rebuttal. First, Hector Does Go Rug is a lame anagram. "Huge Ego, Sorry," House says, is a much better anagram for Gregory House. It's pretty much prefect, actually. But who wants a dog named that? Second, Bonnie sucks at being a realtor. She will not guilt-trip him into buying a condo.