She slapped Macintosh's face; keeping the victim awake sometimes raised the chances of survival; at the very least it might give her a few extra minutes to mix up the antidote. Macintosh stirred and mumbled, "Jus' five more minutes, Granny," and weakly swatted her hoof away. She continued on this way: fetching flowers and leaves from cabinets and shelves and stopping momentarily to give Macintosh a slap and keep him at least semi-conscious, but it was having less and less of an effect.