"There is no more blue plague," she answered. This was good news to me. "Well, why am I having to stay in bed? Why can't I get up now? If I'm healed, I want to get up and look.”

"Later, darling." She was persistent. "Right now, you must lie there and not move until the doctors check you thoroughly. It may be dangerous for you to move. Just be patient until Dr. Gilmer checks you. He's on the way, and Mr. Bishop is coming too."

"I heard you send for him. How is he?"

"He's fine," she said, "and I know he'll be happy to know you are conscious again."

"How long have I been unconscious?" I asked.

"Fifteen weeks and three days," she answered.

"That's impossible!" I exclaimed. "What happened to me to keep me out so long?” At that moment I heard the door to the room open, and as I turned my head to look . . . I heard a voice that was familiar. "Mr. Bishop?" I asked. "That's right," came the answer. I saw it was he and I tried again to move my arm to reach for him.

Again Julie kept it still. "Uh uh. Got to remain perfectly still until you are checked. You can talk without touching."

"I see you are in good hands," he spoke "and that's what you need all right."

"She's always been a worry wart," I accused.

"That's not true," Julie said in defense. "I don't worry any more than you do."

Another figure loomed up beside Mr. Bishop and I recognized him. It was Dr. Gilmer. He was the surgeon I had been introduced to when I checked in at the hospital. Then the day really began to dawn. "I was to be operated on wasn't I?” I didn't wait for an answer. "No, I checked in here to have my brain transplanted! Was it done? Did something go wrong?"

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