Just before six the next morning I was roused out of my sleep by a surprise visit from Linda and Julie.
They helped me sit up in bed, and working with Julie's makeup kit, they first refreshed my eyeliner and then helped me apply a light shade of lipstick. Linda and Julie fussed over me putting some blush on my cheeks and also adding just a hint of eye shadow. Looking into the mirror that they held for me, I saw what a difference a touch of color properly applied made. I looked healthy - and I felt good.
Linda and Julie left reminding me of their promise to see me later tonight.
My good feelings were about to come to an abrupt end though.
When Mom came by later in the morning with the same doctor, I knew it was exam time. Yes, I obviously knew what day of the week it was and what month. I also knew who was running the country and the city. I found that if I wanted to, I could manage to bluff a lot more stuff than I realized. The key was in listening, whether it was to the radio, the TV News, or just to people, but I couldn't fill in the blanks that remained regarding who I was. And of course the doctor, a psychiatrist no doubt, noticed this quickly. He told Mom that he was going to run some basic tests on my ability to remember, and that for the time being I was going to have to stay in the hospital, but since I seemed to be a bright girl, he was sure I was going to regain my full memory soon.
Little did the doctor know just how soon I was going to have a nearly miraculous memory recovery!
Mom didn't approve of the makeup one bit, and told the doctor as much, but he turned out to be my unwitting ally. He told her that since I didn't remember my past, I couldn't know about her rules for makeup and dating and such. Then he surprised me by saying he thought the make-up made me look a lot more alive. This brought a small gasp from Mom who had been the one to discover me at death's door. She quickly agreed and said that as long as I was responsible with it and didn't paint my face too much, it would be okay with her, but said that dating was definitely out of the question until I turned 16. I guess I did look a lot different with color in my cheeks than the deathly-pale girl she had found lying on the kitchen floor.
Just after lunch, I wheeled myself down to the common room of the Peed's wing. This is where all the kids who were able to get out of bed usually spent the day. There was a color television there along with a ping-pong table and lots of board games. Most of the kids - and the bulk of them were much younger than my current age - were watching "General Hospital," while others were playing cards. I wasn't in the mood for TV or games, and I didn't have much in common with the kids who were there. It was easier for me to talk to the adults who ran the ward, and even they were a lot younger than I was... or had been.
Then I saw myself.
In a wheelchair with his leg in a cast sat Patrick O'Donnell, moping. I laughed as I realized that was pretty much the way I had been when I wore that body and was stuck in the hospital, but I also knew that this time, it held the mind of Patricia Johnson...