"God of death, not of sleep!" Nergal replied, throwing a hand up in the air. Well, they didn't have to worry about him dying, at least. "They must have changed it in the hour since I checked his file, then. But whatever, he'll be fine. Just unhook the IV." It took him a moment but he managed to find another set of tubes to connect from the main IV drip down to the man's arm, bypassing what he'd put in there. "Here, you fix this, I'll get him into the wheelchair."
He muttered something in ancient Babylonian - a language from before the tower fell - and hefted the man from the bed into the wheelchair. He cast a glance over his shoulder to the hallway and saw everyone still occupied with cleaning up the now rather foul mess.
"Shall we?" he offered with a wave of his hand towards the door. This wasn't moving fast enough and he would have liked to be out the door already.