Pachita/“Hermanito” always had two helpers, a male on one side of the cot and a female—for about 14 months myself, as often as I could get into the city—assisting. And I would set up the cotton, the implements that were to be used—primarily a rusty hunting knife and a pair of scissors. The spirit would come and the operations would commence. The patient would come and stretch out on the cot, bare whatever section of his anatomy needed the operation. The only concession to antiseptics was a bit of cotton that was rubbed on the section; new cotton from a bottle they brought. And, you know, John, what can I tell you? I did not go buy chicken gizzards at the market across the street. She was not putting little bits of mica underneath her fingernails through which superficial cuts were made. I was not hypnotized. I had my eyes open. I stopped counting when I had assisted in over 200 operations—everything from inoperable brain tumors to lung transplants, which Andre Puharich, who researched a book on Arigo, another psychic surgeon in Brazil, and other psychics who do research, he said, “She’s probably one of the greatest psychics,” because he assisted in an operation in which she did an actual transplant