Speaking of staring into the abyss. He sticks out his cane to poke at it. It looks as though whoever made it had a sense of physiognomy. What metal is that? Oh, wait. It's a good reason to get up, so he heaves himself across the room and grabs a cute hygiene magnet and places it close to the kneecap. Will it stick?

"There's no swimming, not with that." Is that even ergonomically wise to use metal? House looks down to see his shoes, examining where the soul is worn. "You should get something lighter by far. For one thing."

Back to the chair he goes, and he wheels it closer. "Can you at least take it off?"