New Jersey.
Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.
Patient Keith's sudden deterioration delighted Dr. House.
When he went to look, he found a thrombus in Keith's left retinal artery. He was blind in that eye.
"Warfarin can dissolve the clot and restore his vision."
"We can't use anticoagulants right now. He has internal bleeding."
"We can restore his vision, but it'll destroy everything else."
"For the same reason, surgery is out."
"We have two hours to solve this. If we can't fix his eye, he'll lose it."
The Three Ducks discussed it.
"Forget the eye."
Dr. House walked in on his cane. "Tell him to use his other eye to seek the light. There's something hidden in that clot. It can help us unravel the mystery."
"Are you okay?"
Cameron asked with concern.
"Yeah, your leg doesn't hurt anymore? Did you take Vicodin?"
Dr. Foreman asked in surprise.
"Of course not."
Dr. House curled his lip. "When have I ever voluntarily admitted defeat in a bet I made?"
"Then how?"
Dr. Foreman scrutinized him. "You bet Cuddy that you wouldn't take Vicodin for a week, and she'd waive a month of clinic duty. But you're clearly addicted to Vicodin. You were already showing obvious withdrawal symptoms before..."
"It's Adam Duncan!"
Cameron saw through it at once.
"Right!"
Dr. Foreman suddenly understood, then shook his head in speechless disbelief. "The extreme stimulation and pleasure of betting against one of your own kind actually suppressed your severe leg pain and addiction withdrawal symptoms. That competitive streak of yours... really is a Medical Miracle!"
"You took Vicodin?"
Just then, Dr. Wilson, who had come in to check on House, saw how spirited he was and immediately voiced the same surprise as Dr. Foreman.
"Can't you come up with something new?"
Dr. House scoffed. "Also, the