You don't have much time as the needle draws closer. Strapped to the bed, your movement is somewhat limited. The bed seems a bit high, and a little exploration shows enough leverage to shift your weight, but you don't have time to experiment. Out of options, you spit in the woman's face.
Taken aback, whether by the sudden act of defiance or the fact that you're lucid, she stops dead in her tracks. While not exactly what you were expecting, it's more than enough of an opening for your purposes. With as much of a heave as you can put behind it given your bound status, you throw your weight to the side.
Fortune is on your side, as the hospital bed was in an elevated position. The sudden shift at the top threw the center of gravity, tipping the entire assembly. You're in for a bit of a fall, but nothing compared to the face full of gurney wheels the woman gets. An oxygen tank strapped to the aluminum tube undercarriage of the bed impacts squarely on her chin, producing a remarkable cracking noise and sending her flying. The syringe clatters to the ground, signaling your continued humanity.
Not knowing how long you have before somebody comes looking, you set about working your way out of the restraints. You very nearly dislocate your thumb getting your right hand out of the leather strap, but you succeed. Not a moment lost, you free the rest of the straps and get up.
"Sorry, lady," you snear as you empty the syringe onto the floor. "I hate wolves."
The situation doesn't look good. You're trapped in a facility of unknown size, with unknown but potentially tight security, and nothing more than the hospital gown on your back to protect you. What could you possibly do now?