Harvey is the name of our stroke victim, and he has a female visitor when Foreman enters the room. Her name is Annette, and she answers all of Foreman's questions about Harvey's next of kin for him. His parents died in a car crash two years ago, and he was an only child, as were his parents. Foreman tells Annette that if she wants to stay in the room, she needs to let Harvey answer his questions. Foreman asks Harvey what brought him to the Clinic, and Harvey explains that, starting six months ago, he started grinding those things you have in your mouth that help you chew your food. "Teeth," Annette clarifies, just in case Foreman thought Harvey meant cats, and says that Harvey is experiencing some minor aphasia, just in case Foreman thought that Harvey's inability to remember the word "teeth" was totally normal. She then tries to explain to Foreman what aphasia is, and Foreman is all like, "I'm a neurologist, okay? Shut it." Harvey says that he went to see someone about the teeth-grinding, but he can't remember what he was called, so Annette is called upon to clarify again. It was an acupuncturist, and now both Foreman and Harvey have given up on getting any information out of Harvey's addled brain, so Annette is free to explain what the acupuncturist did. Basically, he referred Harvey to another alternative medicine specialist, who referred him to someone else, and so on and so forth until Harvey was referred back to the original acupuncturist. A circle with perfect feng shui. Foreman says that they'll need to get whatever records all the alternative places keep and leaves the room, where Chase is hanging out. He asks Foreman who Annette is. Foreman calls her Harvey's "guru." Chase asks whether Annette called herself that, and Foreman says that she sure acted like it. Chase stares at Annette. As soon as she looks toward him, he turns away. Hmm.
Clinic time! House walks into the examining room to find an old woman in stirrups. And not the kind of stirrups you'd find in a saddle or attached to pants at the local thrift store, either. "Hi. I'm having vaginal pain," she says. House considers leaving this place, but settles for taking his pills. The woman explains that her regular ob/gyn recently died. He had warm hands. "Not anymore," House says, wishing that he, too, were dead. I wonder if this is going to play out like that old joke about the old woman who accidentally put body glitter on her bits before seeing a gynecologist for the first time ever. I hope not. House grabs the speculum and checks the area out, noting all kinds of trauma to Old Ramona's junk. House's diagnosis is that either Ramona got a studly young boyfriend, or her old husband got a Viagra prescription. No surprise, it's the latter. Ramona says she misses the days when Myron was more flaccid and they watched Jeopardy! together. And there's no use talking a seventy-three year-old out of sex, because if Ramona doesn't put out, Myron will go to "Connnie in the corner condo" and get what he needs from her. Ramona laments that the pressure is worse than it was in high school, and I hope she doesn't mean that her lover then was also an old man with tremendous staying power. Ramona says that Connie from the corner condo is a "major-league slut," and House and the attending nurse just look at each other. The priceless expression on the nurse's face is equal parts horror, disgust, disbelief, and maybe just a little bit of hope that when she's that age, she'll be getting it that often, too. House writes out a prescription for some vaginal suppositories that should aid lubrication, since apparently, K-Y Jelly isn't for the elderly. Ramona asks House if he can give Myron a new prescription, too. Something that's a little less potent, so to speak. At the very least, something that stops working for the half-hour a day that Jeopardy! is on. Ramona tells House that he can lie and say it's better for Myron's heart, in order to convince him to take it. "Close your legs," House says. And that is why this show has a "parental discretion advised" disclaimer.