So House resorts to his old stand-by: a portable videogame. Oh, except that's not House using it -- it's Adam. And his father says that the Cottages should hold off testing him until he's finished with whatever level he's on in the game. Foreman gets all impatient, having apparently skipped the med school lecture about making accommodations for patients with disabilities. He also missed the lecture about not being a total asshole when talking to patients and their families, and says that if Adam has a vascular disorder, they may not have ten minutes to wait for him to finish his videogame. Dad ain't falling for that, so Foreman says that he's the one who doesn't have ten minutes to waste, and then he tries to yank the videogame out of Adam's hands like a total fucking asshole. I mean, what the hell, Foreman? Adam's not of those worthless homeless people you have to learn a lesson from, he's a child with a neurological disorder, a field you supposedly specialize in. Unsurprisingly, Adam responds to Foreman grabby-hands with screaming.
House is down in the Clinic. I really missed those Clinic patients and their silly problems. Today, a woman is telling House that, after some considerable trouble even getting her bowels to move, her ass ejected something unfamiliar into the toilet that she has helpfully wrapped in tissue paper and brought in for House to inspect.
We cut to Foreman trying to get Adam to stay still for the nuclear scanner and wonder what's worse: the patient who screams and squirms or the patient who shoves unidentifiable things that came out of her ass in your face. Foreman ties the kid down and starts the test.
While House tries to stay awake, another patient tells him that after years of chronic back pain, he suddenly woke up with no pain at all. Sounds like he was in a little something I like to call a "ketamine coma."
While Foreman abuses his autistic patient, Cameron and Foreman check out the kid's house. Cameron finds some of Dad's antidepressants and Chase notes that every second of every day is planned out on a schedule on the fridge. Cameron snorts that Adam's parents don't have much of a life, and Chase says that you only choose to have kids, not what the kids turn out like. "Nobody chooses this," Cameron says. Well, no, except for the people who adopt autistic kids, of which I'm sure there are some. I mean, I don't think I'd choose to marry someone just because he was dying of terminal cancer, but I wouldn't judge someone else for doing it. Unless, of course, she whined and cried about it a lot and I didn't like her character anyway and therefore was happy to find fault in it. In the backyard, Chase comments that it's only when you have a special kid that parents seem to go all out and pay attention to it. Cameron says that if only Chase had been autistic, maybe his dad wouldn't have abandoned him. Whoa! Who crapped in Cameron's Cheerios this morning?