Hadley and Chase have arrived at Richardson's house, and the guy looks miserable, so pale he's gray and clinging to his toilet. Damn, if I felt as bad as Richardson looks, I probably wouldn't leave the hospital -- I'd have myself admitted. Although maybe I wouldn't if that hospital was PPTH. That place is a death trap. I mean, they don't even have a neurosurgeon on the premises! Hadley unsympathetically orders Richardson to "suck it up and go back to the hospital." Wow, just because you have Huntington's, doesn't mean everyone else's illnesses are small peanuts. Also, if I were Richardson, I'd be laughing at the idea of these young punk fellows trying to boss me around like that. And then I'd call the police to remove them from my home. Oh, and an ambulance to take me to any hospital except PPTH.

All Richardson says, however, is he won't leave the room without his precious toilet, as if PPTH doesn't have any of those for him to use. He says he ate bad sushi and is suffering from food poisoning. Chase offers to give him some anti-nausea medicine, as if that ever actually does anything for nausea and that even if it did, that would be all Richardson needed to feel better. Food poisoning makes everything feel horrible all the time. Get rid of the nausea and you still feel like you want to die. In any case, Richardson already took anti-nausea meds and they clearly aren't helping. Hadley wonders if Richardson isn't suffering from food poisoning after all. Chase says that whatever he does have (as he's now assuming that Hadley is right based on ... uh ... nothing), it has apparently damaged the lining of his stomach, so they have to heal that before anything they give him will actually work. Somehow. Hadley suggests giving Richardson a bunch of drugs for his nausea and assumed damaged stomach lining. Chase asks what to give him for his underlying condition, but Hadley says they don't have to worry about that: "who cares? He's not our patient. The hospital is." "I can hear you," Richardson moans. Well, I guess he should have thought about this when he agreed to work for a hospital with only 3 neurosurgeons on staff. By the way, how does that work? Do they do 8 hour shifts seven days a week? If one of them goes on vacation or gets sick, then the other two have to work 16-hour shifts every day until he returns, right? You'd think if having a neurosurgeon there at all times was this important, they'd have, like, sixteen of them. Hadley asks Richardson if he'd be willing to take a "fairly risky drug" in exchange for feeling much better. Feeling much better isn't going to do you much good if the drug gives you a heart attack, though.