She occupied the cot marked 7A, a petit attractive woman in her forties. She sat bolt upright on her bed, with her knees drawn up, her head anxiously leaning sideways towards the door, as if she was expecting bad news from that direction. Sometimes her lips moved in silent conversation with someone only she could see. She had several IV tubes connecting her innards to computerized equipment, the most conspicuous of all entered her nose and was plastered to her face with a large clump of white Elastoplast, making her look ridiculous. I walked over to her bed and asked if I might sit with her. I held her hand because she seemed to be so afraid. After a few minutes of silence, she gestured me to leave and as I walked away she had a seizure. The nursing staff attended to her with much haste and whispering and I later heard that she was taken to High Care.
We never spoke again after that.
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