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Show 344 "We have our own quarter mile," she continues, clarifying, as we exit the elevator onto an obscure section ofthe ground floor. It is a loop, an unnatural connection of hallways linking x-ray to the morgue, around to the main elevator bank, past several halls of bland offices, down next to the staff cafeteria, and back again to x-ray. "I come down here during my breaks to get some exercise," she is explaining. I have not pushed myself in my wheelchair in months. My arms are aching after the first minutes but the floor is smooth and uncarpeted and there are few others walking these hallways and I feel compelled to feel some wind in my face. Flo is jogging slowly along next to me, pushing the IV pole. We pass under a large security camera pointing down the long hallway and we both spontaneously wave and holler at the imagined guards stationed at the video banks. We are giggling at the thought that maybe one ofthe guards, not quite knowing what to make ofthe picture he is seeing, thinks I have attempted escape, Flo racing to catch me. I slow after once around, breathless. Flo is not breathing hard. We continue slowly for the second round. "Have I ever abused you when I'm on lots of Versed?" I am asking her. It is a question I now ask most nurses assigned to me. I try to cloak my trepidation as I ask. |