John wasn't paying attention to the conversation. He couldn't focus on their hands anyway. His vision was compromised from the torture his dream self had been through. He just lowered his gaze and watched the tainted water swirl down the drain.
After a few minutes, he's about as clean as he's going to get, he pulls himself up and grabs for a towel to wrap up in. Once he's on his feet, he starts feeling nauseated again, and he ends up lurching for the toilet just in time to spit up a stream of blood and bile.