One weekend my friend Sally, a nurse, was looking after her six-year-old nephew when he fell off a playground slide and hit his head.

Worried that he might have a concussion¹, she checked him all night.

Every hour, she'd gently shake him and ask, "What's your name?"

Soon, he began moaning² in protest each time she entered the room.

When Sally went in at 5:00 A.M., she found something white on his forehead. Leaning close, she saw a crayon-scrawled message taped to his forehead.

It read: "My name is Daniel."