Our emissary, Nancy, allowed her brain to be implanted with Zetan genetic material, on more than one occasion, in preparation for her role as a communicator during the Transformation. Such procedures, done by us, do not put the contactee at risk of injury or infection. We work in completely sterile environments and through the use of what you might call a growth hormone, stimulate the body to heal within minutes. Nancy's head was opened - the scalp was pulled back, a bone plate pulled up on one side, and material implanted into sites deep within her brain by an infusion technique that works on the molecular level so that no brain cells are damaged during the procedure. As Nancys telepathic communication center was enhanced during her 20s, she also began to receive more communications from her fellow humans. As she did not allow herself to realize that she was a contactee until her mid-50's, this put some 3 decades of enhanced telepathic communications with humans into her consciousness, before she realized why this came about. We will let Nancy tell you the contactee's side of the story.
Begin Nancy's Hypnotic Recall
The first time they picked me up they were checking out the top of my head, bent my head down and looked at the top of my head. When they put the stuff in my forehead, whatever they did, it hurt. I don't know what they did to the forehead, but it hurt so that I didn't want to talk about forest and trees and stuff like that any longer. I couldn't concentrate on those things any longer because it hurt enough that it was distracting me. Dull ache on my forehead. But they were definitely checking out the top of my head, and they did the same thing at the berry patch. They were turning my head. If you tipped it back you could see my forehead in the sunlight. But when they first picked me up they had their hands all over my head, sizing it, was the way I would put it. So, I'm just going to concentrate on my head, and think if there was anything that was ever done.
I can feel the pain. I can feel the pain right here, and a feeling of pressure on either side. Pressure. Let me think now. And taking my breath in short breaths, like gasp-a, gasp-a. Like that. Like your chest is tight. A very bright room. Sitting in something that's more like a reclining lounge chair, maybe like the dentist's chair, that type of thing. I think that my head was in a brace, around the chin, and my arms were down, sort of into my lap, almost in some kind of armrest. I think they've got little snap things. They don't completely close, like hand cuffs, but they just partly close. They're around the bone structure enough that you couldn't pull your arm away. One here by the elbow and one here down by the wrist, more up on the forearm, maybe another one on the thick of it, up above the elbow, but definitely the two below. I don't think my feet are restrained at all, but my knees are slightly bent. There wouldn't be much I could do with them anyway, in that position.
Then someone's saying, "Don't think about it." They're saying, "You won't remember this. You're not supposed to. This is for your own good, so we can talk to you." I'm trying to think how old I am. I keep thinking I'm in my twenties. "Just lay there now." I think I'm sort of trembling all over, just because it was a very nerve racking experience. This is not like a spasm trembling, just that I'm trembling all over. I feel pale and very shaky. Someone pats me on the hand, something like that. I'm thinking, "What was that all about?" One of them bends down and is looking at me eye-ball to eye-ball. The eye contact thing. It's like he's checking out my reactions, my facial reactions, because they're looking at my eyes. But he seems satisfied at what he sees. I'm not trembling any more now. There seems to be three or four of them in the room. They're the big ones. I think there's one little one in the room. There's three or four of these larger guys. They're as big as me or larger than me, not smaller than me. There's a counter around this chair in the center of this room.
I'm saying, "What was that all about? What was that all about!" I'm slightly angry. I would say, "What was that all about!" That type of thing. They're all sitting and looking at me now, at my face. One of them is kind of sitting on the edge of this lounge thing, and the other is kind of leaning over. I have three faces looking at me, about a foot and a half away. They're all just staring at my facial expression, but they don't seem to show any alarm. They're not asking me how I feel or anything like that. I think one of them says that I should move my arms and legs around, and see if I can do it OK. I do kind of wiggle things. They ask me if I, "Feel like going to the bathroom," or anything like that, and I say, "No." In other words, do I have an urge, an uncontrollable urge or feel like I'm about to lose it. I know that means something neurological. "Feel sick to my stomach?" "No." "Hurt any where?" "No."
I say, "What did you do?" I'm getting no comment back. "What was that for?" They're just not communicating anything. They say something about, "This is so you'll
think about the universe more," or something like that, and, "We know you like that. And this is so we can talk to you." I look at their mouths when they say that.
I'm thinking, because you don't talk that way. I guess I say, "So now what." "Now you will be free to think more about the universe," or something like that. I'll be,
"More free," I'll feel more inclined and less restrained.
End Nancy's Hypnotic Recall