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We took my body to the hospital and my sister checked it in as a relative. I told the lady in reception that I was “a friend of the family.” As a result, my sister got to go with my body into the ER while I was left in the waiting room.

A few hours passed and I was told I would have to go home. They took my number and they said they’d call if there was an update, and that I could come back tomorrow.

I wasn’t able to enjoy my new body as much as I wanted to that night; I was simply too worried -- not about whether my original body would survive, but what if she woke up in my body and started squealing to hospital staff?

I slept, showered, and changed my clothes (again, not enjoying any of it as much as I should have) before returning the next day. A few more hours passed before my sister came out with news. My body was alive. It was doing well with only one minor complication, complete amnesia.

Neither my sister nor I wanted to say it aloud while we were still at the hospital, but this seemed like the best outcome possible. She couldn’t be angry about being in my body if she didn’t remember who she was, she didn’t have to die, and she wouldn’t even be able to tell anyone! It seems this body was mine and in the clear! But then again, with that body swapping chamber still in the farmhouse, it might be fun to try yet another body after a while. Oh, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves; it’s finally time to enjoy THIS body!

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