The three of them exchange a look, and for a second I’m afraid they’re about to hit me with a polite no.
One of them with short locs and a badge that reads Diane, sets down her pen. “He’s the seizure patient?”
“Yes.” I nod. “He just really wants to get out of the room for a bit. Even just the hallway would be fine. He’s going stir-crazy in there.”
Diane glances at her colleague, something wordless passing between them, before looking back at me with a measured expression.
“He can’t be unsupervised,” she says. “And it’d have to be short. Twenty minutes, maybe thirty.”
“Of course.” I straighten slightly. “I’d be with him the whole time.”
She exhales. “Let me check with the attending on call and pull a chair from the equipment room. Give me ten minutes.”
“Thank you.” I reply. “Really.”
