Who are you?
What are you doing? Get out of here!
Mom!
Lue? Lue?
You okay?
Okay, honey.
Calm down. It's all right.
You're just having another bad dream.
I can't breathe!
Yes, you can.
You're fine. Just relax.
Just take slow, deep breaths.
Nice and easy.
There's nothing to be afraid of.
I'm... trying... But I can't!
Relax.
Slow, deep breaths.
I... can't.
Lue?
Oh, my God. Lue?
Lue, wake up!
Wake up, Lue! Come on!
Lue!
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
Been paging you for over two hours.
I must've been in the shower.
Then I had to moisturize.
Eight-year-old boy was brought into the ER
last night with acute respiratory distress.
No history of—
no histories of asthma or allergies,
and his chest X-ray's clear.
Actually, I had to moisturize twice.
Dominika made oysters Rockefeller last night.
Kid's been having night terrors.
Woke up in the middle of one in full respiratory arrest.
Stress induced panic attack.
Tell the parents to lay off the grades.
The world needs fry cooks too.
And the dad's moved out of state.
Have you seen Wilson around?
The dreams are about an ugly, old hag
trying to strangle him.
The family's Hmong.
SUNDS—
sudden unexpected nocturnal death syndrome,
aka BS name for no one's figured out why they died.
Over 100 in the early '80s.
Only male. Only Hmong.
Healthy right up until the moment
they died in their sleep.
What was he dreaming about? It doesn't matter.
It's a dream.
It doesn't mean anything.
If the nightmare's scary enough,
meaningful or not, it could cause a catecholamine surge
and ventricular fibrillation.
An ancient demon called a Dab
was sitting on him, strangling him.
I think that qualifies.
Except in the rational part of the file,
where it says his EKG's within normal limits.
It's not his heart.
What about obstructive sleep apnea?
Sleep apnea wouldn't have caused breathing problems
after he woke up.
What did you dream of?
I never remember my dreams.
But you're certain that they're insignificant.
Defensively so.
I was defending science.
You were defensively defending science.
Lung damage from inhaled toxins
could keep causing problems after he woke up.
Or an upper respiratory infection.
Okay, Chase and Park,
start iv antibiotics for pneumonia.
Taub and Adams, go check the home for toxins.
Could I go with Taub?
It was my idea.
Right... 'cause for a moment there,
I thought you were uncomfortable around Chase
because you'd had a nocturnal Australian.
You can go with whoever you want.
But all of you, read all of these files.
Do you believe a spirit could be hurting your son?
No, of course not.
Because if he's been taught to believe that,
it is possible for the fear alone
to affect heart function.
I'm an engineer.
I know illnesses aren't caused by evil spirits.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to,
I just... had to check.
Anything else you need to check?
No.
I had a dream.
House...
We can talk later.
Relax, I'm a Doctor.
Your spectacular breasts mean nothing to me.
House...
House!
Later.
I had sex with Dominika.
In a dream?
It wasn't literally sex.
Technically, it was flossing.
You know, teeth, testicles.
I think the symbolism is pretty clear.
"Later" just changed to "never."
I'll tell you what would be weirder,
if you didn't dream about having sex with Chase.
Have you?
No.
But I've dreamed about having sex
with a lot of people I work with,
and it didn't freak me out.
That's different.
How?
'Cause you've actually had sex
with a lot of people at work,
and that hasn't freaked you out.
Good point.
So you're worried about what it means?
I'm not worried. It means nothing.
It means something, doesn't it?
I work with him.
I can't want to sleep with him.
Maybe Chase just represents work.
You're just falling in love with your job.
It has been very satisfying lately.
You smell that?
Yeah. Smells like wet dog.
It's mold.
It's not mold. It's definitely mold.
I don't see any sign of water damage.
Holy crap.
It looked like a slaughterhouse.
I don't know what you're talking about.
It was clean when we left.
You're telling us some random person
broke into your house to dismember a pig
in your son's bedroom?
A pig?
My father-in-law.
What did you do?
What you should have done weeks ago,
when the dreams started.
I'm saving Lue.
He's coding!
Need a Doctor in here!
V-tach. No pulse.
Oh, my God! Push 1 milligram EPI!
Paddles. Charge to 50. Charging!
Clear!
Baby...
Still V-tach!
Charge to 100!
100!
Clear!
Charge— wait!
Normal sinus rhythm.
Oh, God!
He's stable,
but we've obviously got a second symptom.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, kid in V-tach.
Tell me about the luau in his bedroom.
It's a traditional Hmong ceremony
that's supposed to call back the kid's soul.
Hasn't he heard of star-69? There's more.
The reason grandpa thinks the kid's soul is stolen
is because he's convinced his son, the kid's father,
had his stolen as well.
He beat his boss to death.
The dad didn't move away.
He's in prison.
PTSD could definitely cause breathing problems—
It's not PTSD.
Even if the kid wasn't there,
just hearing what the dad did—
But he hasn't.
It happened when he was two,
and all he's ever been told is that
his parents divorced
and his dad moved away.
The heart thing indicates a malignant arrhythmia.
He needs an E.P. study.
How many of the other files
showed malignant arrhythmias?
None, but—
Forget the E.P.
What about acute pericarditis?
Explains the dyspnea.
How many of the other files—
it's exacerbated by lying supine,
so the symptoms would get worse
when he goes to sleep.
Just like all 100 of the others.
Do an echo to check the pericardium.
See if you can find any cardioactive toxins
in the home samples.
Can I just say that I very much enjoy my job?
No, no, please.
No need to apologize for your earlier behavior.
Floss was mint
probably because of this green G-string
she hangs up to dry in the bathroom.
My watch must have stopped.
Apparently it's already "never."
You might want to forward your calls.
You do not want
the Reader's Digest version on this.
There was a very tight hygienist's uniform,
suggestive use of the water sprayer—
The floss isn't sex. It's guilt.
It's tying you up for throwing away
the I.N.S. notification
granting Dominika her citizenship.
She can move out, but she still doesn't know it,
which means you're basically holding her prisoner.
Tell her the truth,
and leave me alone.
Really? What?
You startled me.
We work together every day,
usually under a fair amount of stress.
It's only natural I'd pop into
a subconscious thought every once in a while.
Have you ever dreamt about having sex with me?
No.
You paused.
No, I didn't. You think I'm lying?
No, I think you're fighting the urge
to snap the word "no" because your subconscious
finds the idea abhorrent.
So if I snap, it's offensive,
and if I don't snap, it's offensive
for the exact same reason?
Talk to your subconscious.
This is becoming weird because you're making it weird.
So you don't find the idea abhorrent?
I work with you.
I don't have to answer that question.
You just did.
What happened?
Echo was negative,
but he has severe abdominal pain.
Ultrasound didn't suggest any intestinal blockages,
but he's severely constipated.
No spores, clostridium, or organic toxins
in the kitchen samples. Nothing in the bedroom either.
We need to scope him, and we're gonna need
to clear his bowel first.
We should biopsy his thyroid.
For an impacted bowel?
Hashimoto's thyroiditis would explain
his lung, heart, and intestinal involvement.
And if you think we still need house's approval,
it also explains dying in your sleep.
Nice call.
When you invite me for dinner,
I thought maybe you take me to a restaurant.
Or have plates.
Yeah, sorry.
Idiot delivery guy forgot them.
Mm... the idiot delivery guy,
or the idiot guy whose food you stole
from lounge refrigerator, huh?
You've gotten to know me pretty well.
My citizenship depends on it, right?
Yeah...
that's actually why I wanted to talk to you.
You heard news?
Yeah.
So what news?
They want us to come in for another interview?
No.
Since we hadn't heard anything,
I—I called, and they said
it's gonna be a couple weeks,
maybe a month till they finalize
their decision.
A month?
Yeah, I know. It sucks.
No, it's—it's not suck to live with you.
It's been fun, but...
you know, I just want to be legal.
And you will be.
Absolutely.
In the meantime... Hmm?
You ever shot anyone?
No, get away.
Look, this needle
isn't nearly as big as the one in your arm,
and that didn't hurt, did it?
I don't want it.
They need to do it, Lue.
You'll only feel
a little pinch as we give you
the numbing medicine, and after that,
you won't feel a thing.
No!
Lue, calm down. It's gonna be okay.
What's he saying?
What's the problem? I don't know.
He's saying it's too late.
There's nothing we can do.
It's Hmong.
He doesn't speak Hmong.
He's never even heard it.
It isn't him speaking.
It's the Dab.
He's seizing!
Oh—! Oh, my God!
Need some Lorazepam in here!
Seizure rules out Hashimoto's.
Yeah, that's the issue,
not that we have no rational explanation
for how the patient spoke a language
he's never even heard.
I've got one.
It means "you're a bunch of pathetic idiots" in Hmong.
Or it doesn't.
But you wouldn't know because none of you speak Hmong.
Kid, on the other hand,
is presumably fluent in gibberish.
The grandfather speaks Hmong.
He translated.
He heard what he wanted to hear,
'cause if his grandson really is possessed,
that means his son really is possessed,
which is a giant step up from being
a sledgehammering psychopath.
Whatever it was preceded a seizure.
It's obviously a neurological symptom.
Scleroderma, advanced to the point
that it's affecting his brain?
Interesting.
So we should start treating—
Interesting that you keep
falling for it when I say "interesting."
The scleroderma part was idiotic—
we'd have seen skin involvement.
The interesting part is that you and Park agree,
but you're not able to look at each other.
Um... I'm looking at her.
I'm looking at him.
Good, now lick your lips.
Rasmussen's encephalitis.
Diffuse spotty inflammation
could hit the autonomic centers of the brain.
It's Hmong for "get an MRI to confirm."
Rasmussen's encephalitis.
But he'll be okay?
With treatment, it's manageable.
And it explains all the things
that have happened to him?
We think so.
You are wrong.
And you are wasting my grandson's time.
Neurological issues can cause a person
to speak in tongues, speak with an accent—
He wasn't speaking in tongues!
In times of stress,
our senses can fool us into believing—
I know the difference between science and faith,
and when my son started having the same dreams
my grandson is having, science couldn't help him.
I'm sorry if your son suffered from mental illness.
Kao was not crazy.
He was bright, caring, happy,
until the bad dreams came.
I don't want to watch it happen again.
Please don't scare the boy.
It won't help him get better.
Axial view of mid-brain level looks good.
Moving on to thalamic.
I had another dream last night.
This time it was about you.
Really?
See, that's how you're supposed to react.
When a woman tells you she's dreamt about you,
you should be thrilled,
even if you're not interested in her whatsoever.
You're an idiot, you know that?
Well, I definitely won't be dreaming about you tonight.
I'm jealous of you two.
You couldn't be more different,
and yet you have this good thing happening.
You support each other. You like each other.
Don't let House screw it up.
We're not that different.
Yeah, you are.
Apparently, there are some things about you
I don't know.
I served one year in police unit.
And you're just telling your husband now?
Immigration doesn't know.
No need for husband to know.
What is happening to boy with demons?
Absence of evidence on an MRI,
which my team has mistaken for evidence of absence.
This is what I am not understanding:
How can you believe in dark matters
but not in dark spirits?
Is—is the idea of demons
so different than the higgs boson?
We can't see it, but we can see
the impact of its presence.
I borrowed your physics book.
I read while in bathroom.
You're a dead-eye shot
and enjoy reading quantum physics
on the crapper?
I read in bathtub.
Better image.
Thank you.
The doctors say my brain is sick.
Your doctors are trying their best,
but they're not looking in the right place.
You know, I know this is a lot
to put on an eight-year-old,
but you have angered our ancestors
by ignoring them.
Now do you remember how to talk to them?
Yeah, that's right.
Good.
Now close your eyes,
and we will ask for forgiveness together.
You're doing good...
But we have to do more.
The evil spirits are in the air,
and the only way to stop them
is by stopping the air.
You have to be brave. I'm not trying to hurt you.
This will help you.
I know it will.
Lue?
You okay?
I can't wake him up!
Lue!
Lue, you're safe.
You're in the hospital.
Get grandpa away!
He's not here, honey. It was just a dream.
He was choking me!
No, Lue, it wasn't real.
It was! He grabbed my neck!
Those bruises weren't there before.
He had the dream, and then he had the bruising.
More likely—
and by "likely," I mean "rationally"--
it's the other way around.
His brain felt the pain in his neck
and created the dream to explain it.
Coagulopathy.
Lung problems cause a clotting disturbance.
He would have bruises everywhere.
Is it really preposterous
that dreams can have physical manifestations?
Well, short answer is—
Thoughts during sleep
can and do cause physical changes.
Is that right, Dr. Park?
Did you wake up this morning
experiencing physical changes?
It's medically relevant.
Her dream doesn't mean anything.
Can we start acting like it doesn't mean anything?
Sure.
We could also start acting like walls
don't mean anything,
but then we'd hurt our noses.
You've been taking the high road.
You haven't been teasing in an obviously teasable situation
because you know it does mean something.
She hates the dream because it makes her
feel vulnerable.
You love the dream because it makes you
feel superior.
The poor lass who can't help
but fall sway to your charms,
and you're bestowing upon her
the gift of illusory irrelevance.
Can you please hint to House
that you had a sex dream?
I'd really prefer not to get distracted
with trying to cure the patient today.
I refuse to divulge my dreams
about girl-on-girl loofa action.
The bruising could indicate anemia,
a vitamin C deficiency, or even leukemia.
That is so weird that you and I
had the same dream.
I assume yours also ends
with me achieving ecstasy while simultaneously
placing third in the New York City marathon.
Third?
I'm a realist.
Liver failure can cause gibberish from encephalopathy,
constipation, bruising, and breathing problems.
Hepatic fibrosis could hit someone his age.
So let's hit his liver.
Get a biopsy.
Angle a bit more superiorly.
He keeps having these nightmares
that become real. They really hurt him.
I don't want to believe that a nightmare
can do that, but I—
I'm struggling with it too,
but these things can be explained medically.
But you haven't.
Every Doctor,
every idea they've had,
it's been wrong.
Liver biopsy's back. Team's about to meet.
Back to avoiding eye contact with me?
House got to you again?
Want me to gaze longingly into your eyes
as I tell you the test results?
I want you to treat me like a friend,
which means getting over the fact
that you like me more than I like you.
Yeah, egotism and preening really turn me on.
Too bad I'm not attracted to androgyny and self-pity,
or you'd have it made.
Because anyone who hasn't gotten wet
from your petri dish of STDs
clearly has low self-esteem!
Bitch.
Dick!
You coming?
Why didn't your lips move when you said that?
Chase!
You coming?
Liver biopsy's back.
I'll be right there.
Biopsy was negative for fibrosis.
So once again,
you don't know what's wrong?
It's always good to rule out the bad things.
Doctors!
God!
Was he?
Yes.
He was levitating. Cool.
So the one thing we know for sure
is he was not levitating.
He was floating
6 inches off the bed.
He could've just been arching his back off the bed.
Yes, but then I would have come into the room
and reported that the patient
was weirdly arching his back off the bed.
It was his whole body. He was levitating.
So many questions...
Starting with why did Chase address his comment
to someone who wasn't even in the room?
Hocus pocus,
on my feet you idiots must focus.
The kid's not a magician.
Of course not. He's the lovely assistant.
'Cause grandpa pig sticker is waving the wand.
Middling with...
is Chase trying to avoid Taub,
or is he trying to prove
that he's not avoiding Park?
We checked the bed.
There were no platforms or wires.
This wasn't a trick.
Tetanus could cause muscle rigidity.
Maybe he was propped up by his heel and elbow.
Except he wasn't!
Tetanus wouldn't cause
that kind of breathing difficulty.
And ending with...
if Chase is trying not to avoid Park,
why is he doing this today and not yesterday?
But hypocalcemia could,
and the enema we administered
to cure his constipation
had a high phosphorous load,
which could make him transiently hypocalcemic.
It's a long shot, but at least
it has the benefit of being rational.
Go pump up his electrolytes
and start beta-blockers.
And good news for Park:
I think Chase had a sex dream about you.
Dreams don't mean anything.
I don't know. Nothing you've done has helped.
If we don't start and he has another seizure,
the neurological damage could be permanent.
My father-in-law—
he thinks the calling ceremony
didn't work because Lue wasn't there.
And you think he's right?
I don't know.
I'm sorry, but there's no way
we can allow him to perform an exorcism
in your son's hospital room.
Then I will have to take him home.
A day ago, you were insulted
I'd even think you might believe that stuff,
and now you're willing to stop all treatment,
so you can try it?
Maybe Xang was right about Kao.
The man I loved wasn't evil
and would never do what he did.
He was... possessed.
And my son needs his soul back.
Why not?
As long as he doesn't feed the kid anything
or put anything on his skin that we haven't
verified is harmless, what's the problem?
I agree.
And since we're establishing a new policy
of "What the hell, we'll try anything,"
I'd like to hire Shakira to belly dance
while singing Waka Waka.
As long as you get the mom and Shakira to consent.
It's no different than having a priest
or rabbi lead a prayer vigil.
The mom is scared and confused
and desperate for anything that'll give her hope.
True.
But in the long run, I think you'll be happier
having our lawyer declare her unfit.
That way you won't be ratifying superstition over science,
and I'll still be working here.
And why would that make me happier?
You're not going anywhere,
and we're not "ratifying" their beliefs,
we're respecting them.
You do realize it may involve animal sacrifice.
People who live in glass hospitals
should not throw exorcisms.
I'll talk to the mother.
I don't want to deny him the medicine,
I just...
want to make sure I try everything I can.
I understand that,
but you have to understand that we're a hospital,
not a temple.
Then I'll take him elsewhere.
No, you won't.
He's sick. We can't let him leave here.
I'm sorry, you really have no choice.
I spoke to a lawyer.
He told me as long as I wasn't saying no
to your treatment, you couldn't say no
to my religion.
Give me 24 hours.
This came in the mail today!
I'm sorry.
I should've told you.
Told me what?
I don't understand.
What's the letter?
It's from my Uncle in Poland.
My Aunt Luba, they put her in nursing home two months ago!
That's too bad.
My mother, I talk to her twice a week
and she never even mentioned it.
Wh—what does she think? That I can't handle?
I am 29 years old! I am not a child!
Were you going out tonight?
I could stay.
He's still barely breathing.
Lue?
How you feeling?
Any stronger?
Lue, can you hear me?
What's wrong? I'm not sure.
Lue, I need you to squeeze my hand.
He's not responding. Get me an amp of D50!
You were wrong again?
I'm calling his grandfather.
Genetic tests for Brugada and long QT variants
came back negative.
What about a carotid aneurysm?
We should do an angiogram.
He's got normal carotid pulses.
Who cares?
Mom's given up, why shouldn't I?
I'm sorry,
do we not treat idiots? Because I thought—
Her kid levitated.
That happens to my girl,
I'm expanding my diagnostic horizons.
All the more reason why we should shut down.
We cure this kid now,
crazy grandpa and his magic beads
get all the credit.
And since when do you care about credit?
Since when do I care about this kid?
All I care about is sending mommy
out into the world having faith in faith.
Kid's better off dead.
As soon as she's done appeasing the Gods, let's talk.
What about Kawasaki?
It explains the irregular heartbeat,
respiratory distress, and seizures.
It fits.
Which means he needs a coronary bypass.
It can't be Kawasaki.
Echo would have shown it.
But a patent ductus arteriosis—
it can't be a PDA. He's not an infant,
nor has he had any symptoms for eight years.
Maybe he has.
Maybe he had an infected ductus,
which we inadvertently treated with antibiotics.
So no evidence is evidence of evidence?
I'm just saying, it's consistent.
It's a billion-to-one.
Which means there's seven people in the world
who fit the diagnosis.
I thought we were looking for 100.
Well, maybe PDA
is more common than we thought.
With idiot doctors like you—
You're wrong.
But the treatment's just ibuprofen.
Closes the malformed duct.
Worst-case scenario, he just doesn't get better,
No, worst-case scenario is you piss me off—
You're not gonna let us save an eight-year-old
because one more person might embrace religion?
Does anyone here think my diagnosis is right?
Well, then I have decided,
for today only, to respect your opinions.
We will proceed according to your diagnosis
and nothing else.
That's an order.
Good luck.
We need to put him on the O.R. schedule.
His B.P.'s dropping.
He's crashing. Call a code!
You need to stop this!
I'm giving him the ibuprofen.
Dinner's almost ready.
I think I'll stick with the fluids tonight, thanks.
Why are you sulking?
I'm not sulking.
Oh, my mistake.
Mmm.
Either religion is killing a kid,
or I am.
What are you doing?
Comforting my husband after a bad day.
If this is not what you want,
I go back to making dinner.
I'm not gonna answer that.
Oh, smart man.
This is killing mood.
U.S. citizenship!
I'll get it.
This is Mrs. House,
please give good news, so my husband and I
can go back to sex.
Budmo! Is fantastic!
How many notices you send me?
O-okay, I—I come pick up naturalization certificate.
Thank you for calling.
I'm sorry.
Dr. Adams, Dr. Taub?
His vitals are improving. He's stabilizing.
He's gonna be okay.
It worked.
Um, no, it didn't.
Mrs. Cheng, the medicine I administered
was a long-shot treatment for Lue's heart,
but that's what's helping him.
Ibuprofen?
That's for headaches.
I know it seems hard to believe,
but it's true.
And I know this seems hard for you to believe.
Honey...
Grandpa was right.
He saved you.
There were two things we thought were impossible.
One of them wasn't.
That's all we know.
Was I good?
Doesn't mean anything.
Idea got planted. It was probably inevitable.
It means something.
What?
Well, it could mean the obvious,
that you want some of this.
When will you learn that that look is insulting?
Or it could just mean that we like each other.
I'm weird, and you're pretty,
but we connect. We feel safe.
We trust each other.
Maybe.
Just testing my theory.
Adams defied me.
There's one more zealot in the world.
And Dominika moved out.
She was fun. She was hot.
She fixed my blender.
That is not a metaphor.
You know any good fake divorce lawyers?
I am surprisingly depressed by this.
I have cancer.
You were a little short with me the other day.
You do need an excuse. Cancer may be overplaying it.
Stage II Thymoma.
I didn't want to tell you until I had it confirmed.
I got the tests back this morning.
I have cancer, House.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==