Informed Consent

Episode Report Card
Sara M: B- | Grade It Now!
Life Is Not A Cabaret

Cameron manages to check Ezra's lab out without being overcome by the plight of his rats and trying to set them all free. Which is a good thing for her, since they probably all would've tried to eat her.

Foreman busies himself in the lab.

Chase collects some urine from the bag o'neon yellow pee next to Ezra's bed, which we get to see a nice long close-up of. Thanks for that, show.

Foreman does the bone marrow biopsy. Ezra makes a face. Bone marrow biopsies are never a particularly pleasant experience.

Chase and Cameron read the hell out of some notes. Chase notices Cameron dozing and wakes her up. Next time, Cameron, take some of that meth to keep your eyes open!

When a well-rested and refreshed House reports to work the next morning, he delightfully notes that his team looks like "crap." But they don't have any new information for him. "What have you been doing all night?!" he asks. "Jell-O shots and wild sex," Cameron retorts. Even on a tight schedule, there's always room for Jell-O. And wild sex. While House narrows his eyes at Cameron, hoping her last statement was true, Foreman says that they're still waiting on a few results to come back, but everything they've gotten so far has been clean, and Ezra's home and lab are clean as well. House takes a minute away from his life-or-death situation to take a phone call. Whoever is on the other line tells House that someone has a "personal" message for him. Since when did House have an answering service? Weird. "Who's that?" asks the ever-curios Cameron. "Your protégé," House snorts. Ooooh, burn! Anyway, House brushes off the call and gets back to work, noticing that Ezra has put all of his notes on tape and decides that this could mean that he's having memory problems (memory problems in a seventy-one-year-old man? NO!) and that whatever he has in his lungs has spread to his brain. Since they don't have anything else to go on, Cameron is off to give Ezra an MRI (of DOOOM!). As for House, he's going to take a mid-morning nap in his office. Cue angry glares from the very tired Cottages.

Cameron helps Ezra onto the MRI bed as he joyfully notes that if they're looking for something in his brain, then they must be really out of ideas. Man, it's like this guy wants to die. "Do you want us to fail?" Cameron asks. "No. But you will," Ezra says. One thing's for sure: Ezra has a mean case of negativitis.

Wilson makes his weekly non-contribution by analyzing the bone marrow biopsy. He doesn't find any cancer, but seeing as he also didn't see those undescended testes, I wouldn't trust that too much. Meanwhile, a world-famous cancer researcher is in his hospital, and Wilson hasn't even bothered include himself on the case. Worst Oncologoist Ever. Wilson does note that the bone marrow isn't in such great shape, but that's probably a result of years of heavy drinking, even though Ezra said in his medical history that he doesn't drink at all. Wilson chooses to believe that Ezra's a dirty liar alcoholic, while House prefers to think that the weird bone marrow is a symptom. Who cares? I just want to know why neither of them are acknowledging their little tiff last week. This better not get swept under the blood-stained carpet in House's office where seemingly significant plot points go to die! Cameron walks in and says the MRI was clean. They're out of time and have found nothing. House says that they'll just have to sneak into Ezra's room and change his clock to read a few hours earlier, a joke that no one except me enjoys.

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