Escorts and Elevators

I went to Lawrence Hospital today to visit someone having a procedure. When I asked where it was to be done, a woman near the desk told me it was on the third floor and escorted me up there, since it was on her way. There, another woman told me that the place was on the second floor and she escorted me there.
"Here it is," she said, leaving me near the desk. "Just tell the nurse there."
The nurse told me that the place for that procedure was moved to the first floor, so she escorted me down to the first floor and showed me the waiting room.
"She's already in the room," said the woman behind the desk. "Her family is downstairs in the cafeteria, though. I'm on my way down, so I'll show you the way."
So I trod down the stairs with my escort to the cafeteria and the floor on which I started the trek. Unfortunately, I could not find the family. Back up the stairs I went to the waiting room.
"Did you find them?" asked the woman, sipping her diet soda.
"No, I will just wait here if that's OK." I quickly took a seat before she could call me an escort.