We don't have to have sex. Sometimes it's nice just to cuddle and talk. Me first. You don't want a second opinion. You're already on your fifth. You got Evans at Mercy, Shaw at County, Foster at Johns Hopkins. And every one of them has given you the same advice. You're nuts. You don't just want chemo. You want a dose so high, there's a one-in-three chance it'll kill you outright. Question is, why didn't you tell me? Because you knew I'd stop you. Which means you've already found someone insane enough or desperate enough to give you what amounts to a death dose of chemicals. But who would be that stupid? I'm thinking that the who, is you. Where exactly were you planning on killing yourself? 'Cause I don't think Foreman is gonna let you do it here.
“The C-Word” · Season 8, Episode 19
In this episode: Gregory House (5), James Wilson (4)
Statistically, this treatment has about the same chance of killing you as the thymoma does. But a hell of a lot faster.
[Picks up a small maze puzzle off his desk] Nancy Wells, cervical cancer, 70% survival rate. Died November 6, 1998; 64 years old. [Puts the puzzle down and picks up a small wooden carving of a bird] Bernie Jones, melanoma, 89% survival rate. October 10, 1999. He was 52. [Puts the bird back and picks up a deep sea diver from a collection of toys on a counter behind his desk] John Taylor. Thyroid. 96% survival rate. I promised him he'd be fine. [Putting down the toy] Eight years old. I am not going to die slowly in a hospital bed under fluorescent lighting with people stopping by to gawk and lie about how I look. Even a small chance of that happening is too big a chance for me.
You're an idiot. And the odds say you're gonna die. We'll do it at my place.
If things go wrong, I just want you to know...
If you're going to say that you've always been secretly gay for me, everyone always just kind of assumed it.
It's pathetic. I'm pathetic. An oncologist with cancer. Of all the things that could be killing me...It's like the universe is giving me the big middle finger.
The universe doesn't care--
Why me? I'm always telling my patients not to torture themselves, because there's no answer.
Sound advice.
It's cruel advice. They were just trying to make sense of what was happening to them, and I'm there telling them not to bother? I should have spent my life being more like you. Should have been a manipulative, self-centered, narcissistic ass who brought misery to everything and everyone in his life.
You'd still have cancer.
Yeah! But at least I'd feel like I deserved it.
Okay, your heart rate's up, BP's tanking. White blood count's at 500. We have to go to the hospital now.
No.
I don't have the equipment or the meds to handle this.
No. Win or lose. Win or lose. That was the deal.
That was the deal when there was an "or". You can't win this.
No. No. I'd rather die here. [crying] Not in an ambulance. Not in a hospital. Please, you can't do that to me. I can't — House… Please. Promise me that you won't do that to me. Promise me.
Okay, I promise.
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