All language subtitles for S06E09 - Wilson

How the...

You know, most people go
for the hardwood or carpeting.

I think guitars and
garbage work just as well.

Got the urge to play last night,

had to go all the way
back to my apartment.

Thought I'd save
on future trips.

Hmm.

That's very Eco-friendly of you.

How about keeping down
on the noise pollution?

6:33. You should
be flossing by now.

I'm not going to work today.

I'm going hunting.

After I sleep in.

Is it that time of year again?

He's a self-important jerk.

He's my friend.

He's a self-important jerk.

Seems to be what
I'm attracted to.

Guy calls you Jim. Doesn't
even know your name.

Jim is short for James.
Now go away, Lim.

Nice shot, Jim.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, yeah.
I nailed that tree.

Maple syrup for dinner.

We should have got a guide.

Doesn't count as a new adventure

if you have someone
holding your hand.

On the other hand,
we are holding weapons

and have no idea
what we're doing. Fun.

We need to sneak up on them.

I read somewhere that
the Native Americans say

turkeys know
what you're thinking.

So I should stop thinking
about German porn.

No, no.
That'll lure them closer.

We're terrible at this.

Yeah. Well, at least it's
cold and my new boots leak.

It's almost time anyway.
Did you bring the bag?

May 30th, 2004,
10:07 a.m.

Dr. Wilson informed me that
if treatment didn't go well,

my leukemia would give me
only six more months to live.

November 30th, 2004,
six months later, I didn't die.

As long as I am alive,

I will find new
and exciting ways

to thank you for
giving me another year.

Now move very,
very far away from there,

so that I can be sure
and thank you again next year.

Thanks, Jim.

All right. Let's see how many
more turkeys we can miss.

Yeah, this'll work.

What the hell?

God, sorry. I don't
know what happened.

I can't move my arm.

Am I having a stroke?

I don't know.

Good news. Head CT doesn't
show any signs of a stroke.

So he's gonna be okay, right?

I cannot believe how much you've
grown up in five years. She's...

She's not Emily.

Ashley. My girlfriend.

New life, new adventures.
Ashley, meet Jim.

It's good to meet you.

So this arm thing, does that
mean his leukemia's back?

I checked blood counts
and blood cell morphologies.

Everything is normal.

So these blood tests, that
means it's not cancer for sure?

He said I'm fine.

So what do you think it is?

Hopefully something innocuous.

There's a doctor I can
speak to who's great...

Who's great at diagnosing...

What?

Sorry, that cold sore.

How long have you had that?

Um, two weeks. I'm sorry.

I got the call, I didn't
have time to cover it up.

What is it, Jim?

That cold sore is
caused by a virus.

Assuming you guys Kiss,
the virus could transfer,

infect your spine and
cause the paralysis.

It's a disease called
Transverse Myelitis.

And is that
good news or bad news?

It's great news. I'll get you a
room and start you on acyclovir.

I just had a House moment.

Diagnosed Transverse Myelitis
from a cold sore.

How cool is that?

Patients really eat
that crap up.

It's why I'm loved.
What am I doing here?

Ultrasound is clear.

Which means he's
definitely not pregnant, right?

No gall stones.
Could be diverticulitis.

Have you eaten any seeds?

I'm joining you,
Antonio Aguilar.

We'll play in
God's Mariachi band.

Draw some blood.

The self-important jerk does
not have Transverse Myelitis.

He's got cancer.

How do you even... Okay.

Maybe I paid the redhead
down in records a few bucks

to CC me on all your cases.

A few patients die,
you might get sad again,

make a speech that
would end your career.

Frankly,
I'm stalking you for you.

How long does
a simple blood draw take?

Almost finished.

Well, when you're finished
almost finishing it, test it.

My stomach was ripped
open by the hand of God.

He spilled my blood.

Confusion. Delirium.

Why rule out
the hand of God so fast?

Your guy's low white count
and right arm paralysis

equals a recurrence of
his leukemia. Simple math.

Did you look past the
first page of the file?

No AML cells anywhere.
I did the blood smears myself.

It's still cancer.
You know how I know?

He's got an oncologist
for a doctor.

And your magical
leukemia detector

is more powerful
than a flow cytometer?

I look for zebras because other
doctors rule out all the horses.

In this case, you are
those other doctors.

You haven't earned a zebra.

Hundred bucks.
Are you serious?

Look, friends don't diagnose
friends with cancer. I get it.

Your problem is
you're not objective.

Your caring is
clouding your diagnosis.

If you just cut that out, you
could be a pretty decent doctor.

Just give me
the lactic acid level.

Twenty-seven.

The fact that you
can't speak English

is not an excuse for you not being
humiliated by what I'm about to say.

It's also not an excuse for you

not telling us that
you were a tennis pro.

If you had, we wouldn't
have wasted our time.

Fine. Hundred bucks.

Tucker settling in?

Yep. Already got his
first dose of acyclovir.

And don't worry, I ordered
his girlfriend the kiddie meal.

Next patient on deck.

Del Clinton, day six of chemo.

You just missed the grandkids.

Oh.

That's all right. Last time they
were here, they painted my tie.

You're almost ready to
go home. You feeling okay?

I feel like I felt
after the last four rounds.

In oncology, familiar
pain means all is well.

So that's good, right?

Yeah.

I heard Jesse and Zeke were
by earlier.

Yeah.

I'm sorry, Del, I gotta run.

How are they doing?

They're fine.

No game-winning hits? No aced
report cards? No school plays?

I guess not.

I thought you had to go.

Are you depressed?

I have cancer.

You've had cancer
for a long time,

and it's never stopped you

from bragging
about the grandkids.

Oh.

I guess I'm feeling a little
more down than usual.

Can you give me something?

Yeah.

I don't want you to get alarmed,

but sometimes depression
can be a sign

that something else is going on.

I'm just gonna order a
couple of extra tests, okay?

What's going on?
It's his foot now.

It's nothing.

It's not nothing.

I just started getting a little
tingling feeling in my foot.

Is that bad?

Ashley, it's gonna be okay.

It might mean his foot fell
asleep. It might mean nothing.

Can you give us a few minutes?

Why can't you tell me?

Because you're
making him nervous.

Just give us a few
minutes, okay, hon?

Does this mean that it's not
the disease you thought it was?

It means the medicine
I gave you is not working.

I just might have
to hit it harder.

I'm going to add ribavirin
to your treatment.

Jim.

Are you sure that
this isn't a recurrence?

So the brave face
is just for Ashley.

She's young and she's terrified.

She's not really equipped.

Don't worry.

Once you've had cancer,
recurrence is your biggest fear. I get it.

I've looked at this thing
every which way there is.

That's not
what's happening here.

Can you call my daughter
and ask her to come down?

You can't do it?

She hasn't exactly
been talking to me

since I got together
with Ashley.

I'd really like her to be here.

Of course.

Exactly how serious
does it have to be

to justify you coming
to see your father?

No, I'm sorry.

I'd rather you regretted coming
than regretted not coming.

Thanks, Emily.

How's Tucker?

Well, he's made a mess
of his personal life,

but physically I think
he's going to be fine.

Transverse Myelitis.

What does House think?

What is this?
Is House my overseer now?

No, it's just not
always a good idea

for doctors to treat
their friends, that's all.

Well, House has got
100 bucks on cancer.

So unless you want
in on the action...

Um, is Bonnie still a realtor?

As far as I know.

Do you mind if I call her?
I'm looking for a new place.

I'm moving in with Lucas.

It wasn't the tennis.

You're moving in with Lucas?

Yes.

You're Bonnie's friend,
you know how to reach her,

and yet, instead of calling her,

you come and seek my permission.

You want my blessing, and,
implicitly, House's blessing.

I don't need House's blessing.

Good.

So when will he be able
to move his arm again?

Should be soon.

You started smoking again?

No.

What does that mean? Is
it bad that he's coughing?

Hi, Dad.
Hey.

Melissa, hey. I didn't
know you were coming.

I was at Mom's house
when Dr. Wilson called.

I can go if it's gonna be weird.

No, no.
Stay, it's fine.

Hi.

How are you?
Is he okay?

Yeah, he's okay. I'm not a
big fan of his coughing, though.

You must be Ashley.
Hi.

Hey, are you okay?

Do you think this cold sore
thing could've caused this?

No. Whatever is causing this is
affecting more than his nerves.

I need a crash cart in here.

Don't you guys have a dying
Mexican crooner to attend to?

He isn't dying any more.

Found out he was
on a popcorn diet,

eating 10 bags of
microwave popcorn a day.

Huffing the fumes
scarred his lungs.

Wow. That's very strange.
Where's House?

Performing his ritual
"hiding from Cuddy

"to avoid getting
a new case" dance.

It's sort of a jazz-fusion
type of thing.

He's probably eating
lunch in the morgue.

I can page him to
your office if you want.

Actually, maybe it would be
better if I talk to you guys alone.

House and I have a bet
about one of my patients.

You guys mind making him
100 bucks poorer?

Forty-three-year-old male
in remission from leukemia,

presents with left-arm
paralysis and trouble breathing.

I assume House's
money is on cancer.

Thanks, that's very helpful.

Subdural hematoma
would explain...

CT ruled it out.

I thought it was TM, so I
started him on anti-virals.

But he got worse.
Bacterial infection?

Bacteria would move much faster
than this, he'd be dead already.

It could be fungal.

A fungal infection would
explain his breathing problem,

but not his "unable to
move his arm" problem.

Actually, if aspergillus fungus
balls took root in his lungs

and spread to his spine,
it would explain both.

Thanks.

The treatment involves
riddling the infected area

with BB-sized pellets
of anti-fungal meds.

I assume you don't just load up the
12 gauge and pepper me with birdshot.

No, we have a slightly
more humane delivery system.

But we do have to open
you up. It is surgery.

And like any operation,
there are risks.

What do you think, honey?

I don't know. I mean, is
surgery really such a good idea?

He just seems so sick.
I just...

You should do whatever
you think is best.

Is this the only way
to go after this thing?

Because of
the rapid progression,

I don't think we have time
to test or try IVs.

And he's strong enough
to endure anesthesia?

Definitely.

I want you there
during the surgery.

Of course.

You gotta do it.

Good.

Dr. Chase will be in here soon
to get you set up for the OR.

Page Dr. Chase to Tucker's
room for a surgery consult,

and can you get me...

Mr. Koplovitz wants
to talk to you.

Is everything all right?

He wanted to talk to his doctor,

not his doctor's assistant.

Oh. And House is
looking for you.

What'd you tell him?

That you were in the clinic.

I figure that gives you
about 10 minutes.

Here, Mr. Koplovitz's
chart, go.

Hello, Saul. I heard
you were looking for me.

I'm very tired,
but I can't sleep.

Today's your lucky day. I
happen to be a sleep specialist.

Thanks, Doc.

Hey, can't a guy
get a little privacy?

Nice hiding spot.

Actually, it's perfect.

It allows me to hide
from Cuddy and find you.

What did she want?

She was checking up
on Tucker, thanks to you.

That's it?

Like what?
Something about you?

Something you could
interpret as being about you?

An anagram maybe?

It'd be great if you could play

hide and seek somewhere
else, my patient's...

No problem. Just give me the 100
bucks you owe me and I'm gone.

Tucker doesn't have cancer.

He doesn't have a ball of
fungus in his lungs either.

Next time you want
to use my team,

I suggest you
at least leave a tip.

I'm late for surgery.

Ah. Your assistant said you'd
be in here. I talked to Bonnie.

Let's take this outside.
Mr. Koplovitz just got to sleep.

Oh, sorry. She
found us this fantastic loft.

Outside.

It's not a loft,
it's just more urban.

Not that I'm urban,
but I used to be.

It's got two bedrooms, got wonderful
views. It's a really great place.

Procedure should
take about an hour.

I'll be observing
the entire time.

Thanks.

Maybe it'd be better if
you would stay with Ashley.

She's more scared than I am.

Well, she's...

At her age,

she's not supposed to be dealing
with issues of life and death.

Wasn't what I was planning
when I went after her.

Why did you leave Melissa?

We got married young.
We...

I'm not sure.

There's nothing to talk about.

Why are you doing surgery when
I need you finding me a new case?

You don't want a new case.

Oh, right.
Guess I'm here for Wilson.

Obviously, you didn't tell me

that Cuddy was
moving in with Lucas

because you were protecting me,

which is odd, since I told you

that I'm fine with
their relationship.

So, obviously, you question
one of those assumptions

or you have an issue with logic.

Yes, you're fine
with them dating.

But moving in together is a
whole other level of commitment.

This is
the 21st century, Wilson.

I realize that the logical
course in any adult relationship

could one day lead
to fornication.

Although, the fact that
she wants to buy a loft

could actually mean
that their relationship

IS not as serious as I thought.

Oh, for God's sake, House,
don't do this to yourself.

It's a loft,
it has no deeper meaning

than open-spaced
living arrangement.

You bought into her diatribe

about rediscovering her
lost city-girl roots?

And two bedrooms, it just
reeks of commitment issues.

Yeah, or she has a baby.
Well...

This is classic
mid-life Cuddy crisis.

This is her version of
a two-seat convertible.

Yep, clearly you're
fine with it.

Wilson, he's got global lung
damage. Means it's not fungal.

It's PCP pneumonia.

Hmm.

Obviously, something is
knocking out his immune system.

Three options:
HIV, acquired SCID,

or, my personal favorite,
cancer.

I'm sure you'll test
for all three.

Sixty-two-year-old
African-American man

with lymphoma NOW IN remission.

I did a CT and
found a small lesion

on the upper lobe
of his left lung.

But if he's in remission,

why did you bother scanning him?

During a routine follow-up,

I realized the patient
was depressed.

Wow. That's quite a call.

Thanks.
The treatment indicated...

Oh, I'm sorry,

I didn't realize you were
in the middle of something.

It's a conference room
with glass walls.

You thought I'd be alone?

Your patient has cancer.

Not that guy, who
probably also has cancer.

And who's probably
also your buddy.

Thought you'd want to know.

And you owe me 100 bucks.

You have acute
lymphoblastic leukemia. ALL.

So it is a recurrence?

No, it's different.
It's a second leukemia,

probably caused
by the chemotherapy

we gave him five years ago.

That's why you didn't see it?

Maybe they can
rename it ironic leukemia.

This is not the end.

Tests show that the cancer
is limited to your brain.

That's good news.

How can cancer in his
head be good news?

The blood-brain barrier
separates the blood in your head

from the blood in your body,

keeps the cancer bottled up.
We can go for a cure.

So give me the numbers.
What are we looking at?

Ninety percent chance of cure.

Really?
What if we're in the 10%?

Steady decline, but six
months of a good quality life.

Does he have to go through
another bone marrow transplant?

No. Chemotherapy. We can
go at this with drugs alone.

When do we get started?

We begin by surgically
planting a shunt,

so we can get the drugs
directly into your brain.

I already booked the OR.

You're the only one who can
make cancer sound like good news.

We get it out of your head
and you walk out of here.

Paralysis gone and cancer free.

We also need you to
sign a healthcare proxy.

If something goes wrong
in surgery,

someone needs to be appointed
to make decisions for you.

What are the chances
of that happening?

Very remote.

I think maybe Melissa
should be my proxy.

What?

Coming through.
House got a new case.

Revised OR schedule. Sorry,
Wilson, had to bump you.

It's not like your guy is
bleeding out of his eyes.

House, your guy's not
bleeding out of his eyes, either.

The nurse who books
the OR thinks he is.

Your case IS no more
urgent than mine.

Yeah, but you're
way more patient.

It's okay.

You can talk about the
paperwork in the prep area.

You trust her more than me?

About this, yes.

You've been through
the good stuff,

but Melissa's been to
hell and back with me.

She gives me the best shot
of getting through this.

You still love her.

Don't be silly.
I love you.

Please, don't make this
into more than it is.

Okay. Anything?

Can you feel this?

No.

How about here?

No.

Where is everybody?

Melissa and Emily went
downstairs to get some breakfast.

Ashley?
She had work to do.

I thought she was off today.

Well, she didn't
really have work to do.

She's just pissed, so she
pretended to have work to do.

I let her pretend.

Okay.

Move your fingers.

The chemo's not working.

Does that mean it's not cancer?

No. It means the chemo from
your first round of treatment

has made the leukemia resistant.

So I'm in the 10%
that don't get cured.

Maybe not.

We just removed a screw
from a guy's lung,

and the weird thing is,
he didn't get better.

Any idea what that means?

It means you're
not listening to me.

No, it means I'm ignoring you

to make a point.
There is a difference.

The problem with that technique

is I have no idea
what point you're making.

That your idea is implicitly
not worth responding to.

Doubling your patient's
chemo dose is stupid.

Damn, now it's explicit.

It could swamp out the
resistance of the cancer cells.

The fact that it
theoretically should work

doesn't make it any less stupid.

Of course it does. It's
exactly what you would do.

I'm me. You're you.

And a table is a table.

And chemo is poison, and
double chemo is double poison.

And I can handle it when
things go wrong. You can't.

And things could
go very, very wrong.

I can handle it.

Sounds pretty dangerous.

It is.

What do you think, Mel?

I think you should call Ashley.

You're my family.

I'm sorry I forgot that.

I think that you should try

whatever could keep you
with us longer.

Yeah.

Look.

I can move them.

Hey.
Thank you.

What is it, Jim?

I'm gonna need
to run some tests.

Intraepidermal superficial
bullae. Could be pemphigus.

Or it could be from the fire.

Either way, he's dead.
We can't stop the oozing.

Don't care.

I'm here
because it's 1:15

and Wilson started testing
at 12:45, which means...

The cancer is gone, but over
half his hepatocytes are dead.

In only 24 hours?

He needs a new liver.

Look on the bright side.

You can publish the
results of this case study.

No one will ever
double the dose again.

The double dose of chemo
got rid of your cancer,

but it also trashed your liver.

If I don't find you
a new liver...

You've only got
about 24 hours left.

So what do we do now?

Your father's been moved
to the top of the transplant list.

But all we
really can do is wait.

That's it? We wait?

Tell me something that I can do.

I'm sorry, Mel.

You and Emily don't match
Tuck's blood type,

and neither does Ashley.

So a live liver donation is out.

The best thing to do is
just what you've been doing,

be together.

Hope he already told you
that you're gonna die,

'cause it's gonna make what I'm
about to say a lot more relevant.

House, I know it's raining
out there in the hallway, but...

I was just in the ER, testing my
patient for autonomic dysfunction.

It's the only department
with a shower

big enough for the whole team,

plus the cardiac monitors, plus
me, plus... Anyway, relevant part.

We're just wheeling the
guy out, a trauma came in.

Motorcycle versus semi.

How bad?

Bad for the motorcycle, good for
your liver. Blood type's a match.

Why wasn't I paged?

Because there is a problem.

No organ donor card.

Dead guy's sister
is next of kin,

she's refusing to
allow the donation.

Where is she?

Twenty minutes away.

How do you get the call
that your brother's dead,

and then run out the door?

"That reminds me,

"I had dry cleaning
to pick up."

Did Cuddy buy the place?

Not yet.

You okay?

Just making conversation.

Yours was getting boring.

What are you planning?

I'm not planning anything.

And I don't believe you.

How are you gonna
punish her for dating Lucas?

Okay, now this
conversation is getting boring.

Are you really okay?
No.

I am not okay.
Not even close.

Wow. Okay. See,
that's very adult of you.

No, it isn't.

It's just me accepting the fact

that there's nothing
I can do and moving on.

Which is, I think,
the definition of adulthood.

Well, if it is, being a
kid is a lot more fun.

It's show time.

I didn't speak to him for years.

But when my parents died,
at their funeral,

we made peace.

Our parents must
have blessed it.

And I'm sure they would
want him to do good

with his last act in this world.

They wanted us to be friends.

Our relationship wasn't
strong, but it was growing.

If I allow you to
defile his body,

it will destroy that bond.

The itai will be harmed.

It will save my patient's life.

What if I told you
that he wasn't dead?

Are you saying
my brother's still alive?

I'm saying
you're being an idiot,

but I don't have time to
talk you out of your religion,

so I'm stuck with
giving you a technicality

that will let you justify
doing the right thing.

What if his last living act

was to donate
a part of his liver?

Not the whole thing,
just one small piece.

Then I'm not
defiling a dead body.

House. The last generous
act of a living person.

House. It's too late.

The liver started to degrade.

It's no longer viable
for transplant.

Well played. Religion
just killed another person.

It's not fair, Jim.

You just helped me get
my family back together.

I'm not ready.

I would've had SIX
more months with them

if you hadn't given me
that extra chemo.

Now I have less than one day.

I'm sorry.
We knew the risks.

I don't want to lose them again.

I can't lose them again.

There's nothing more we can do.

Five years ago, when I needed a
transfusion, you used your own blood.

We have the same type,

which means you can
give me a part of your liver.

I'm your doctor.

You're my friend.

Should I die because
you're also my doctor?

Of course not.

Fine then, you're fired.

Now you're just my friend.

Now you can do what's right.

Tucker, it's...

I can't.

Late night with
the Pigeon sisters?

Every now and again,

I'd like to come home
without getting interrogated.

Someone's cranky. And
late. Where were you?

Was getting a drink.

Why are all my frozen
dinners thawing on the counter?

I needed room for
my margarita jello shots.

I used test tubes as bottles

so they'll be shaped
like my cane.

Why did you go
out drinking alone

when you got such
great company here?

Tucker wants me to donate
a lobe of my liver to him.

You were out drinking because
you're actually considering this?

Yeah, I was out marinating
my liver in alcohol

to get it ready for
the transplant. Yeah.

Your mouth says no,

but your pathetic attempt
at a deflection

has guilt written all over it.

It's my fault.
It is my fault.

I gave him too much chemo.

You cured his cancer.

And killed him in the process.

Quibbles.

He's had a predictable
complication.

Surprise. Bad things happen
to people who are sick.

Doesn't make you responsible.

Oh. Not legally,
ethically. Ethically.

A table is a table.

Don't be a doormat, Wilson.

Boy, you are... You
willfully ruined my food

and have taken over
my living room

because you already
think I am a doormat.

You know what?

You're wrong.

Clean up your stuff and get out.

You're wrong.

How's Tucker?

Still no dancing. But the
scans came in on Del Clinton.

It's good news.

Thanks.

Let me know as soon as
Tucker takes a turn for the worse.

I want to be there.

See that small spot
at the top of the lung?

That was then. This is
now. The spot's gone.

That tiny little spot, huh?

Yeah, it's not
too impressive, is it?

That little dot
could have killed me?

Yeah.

Fortunately, we caught it early.

It's gonna be okay.

That's amazing.
You got all this off me

not talking about my grandkids.

Thanks, Bonnie.

We're just gonna have
to sit tight for a while.

Okay.

I put an offer on the loft.
Seller turned me down.

I offered exactly what a similar
unit sold for three months ago.

I want to donate a lobe
of my liver to Tucker.

That's insane.

I'm donating
a small portion of...

You have hundreds of patients.

And until I run out
of excess organs,

why shouldn't I do
everything I can to help them?

Because you're a doctor,
not a donor.

Why did you make me
the head of oncology?

Not because you
have the most organs.

You're thoughtful, caring.

Yeah. Caring.

By your own criteria, a
strength and not a weakness.

This is coming out of guilt.

This is coming
out of friendship.

I have a friend
who's about to die.

And I have the opportunity
to save his life.

Okay.

Call me a doormat,

get it all out of your
system, but I'm doing it.

Why?

He's my friend.

I'm your friend.

All the pain pills I've taken?

What if I need your liver?

Right.
How selfish of me

not to have considered
your possible future needs.

They're all dying.
They're all your friends.

I'm not here
for an argument, House.

No, right, that's room 12A.

So why are you here?

You wanna make sure that
I've called a moving van?

No.

The operation is in two hours,

and I'd like you
to be there with me.

No.

Why?

Because if you die, I'm alone.

Thanks, Jim.

How are you feeling?

Can't complain,

considering if it weren't
for you, I'd be dead. Twice.

You?

I feel good.

Sending out your laundry?

Going to rehab.
Some place up in Katonah.

Up by your new house,
not near your old house.

Easier on Ashley.

I see.

I was thrilled to get
the family back together,

and Melissa's great in a crisis,

but the person you want
when you're dying

isn't the same as the person
you want when you're living.

Hi, Jim,

Actually, it's James.

You ready to admit that
he's a self-important jerk?

I still feel good
about what I did.

You don't feel angry?

Oh, I'm a little disappointed.

Disappointment is anger
for wimps.

You don't have to be so
gentle about everything.

It's okay to get angry
once in a while.

You can't change a table.

Actually, you can.

You just need a coat of
paint and the guts to use it.

Bonnie.

Bonnie told me what Cuddy bid.

You're gonna outbid her?

We do need
a bigger refrigerator.

She hurt my friend.
She should be punished.

You got mad.

I'm proud of you.

Cuddy won't share
that sentiment.

How are you going
to explain it to her?

I'm changing our address
to a PO box.

She'll find out eventually.

A problem delayed
is a problem denied.

Bonnie? I'll take it.

Baby steps.