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What my stroke taught me (2017)
The surprising, quiet nourishment of losing my internal monologue.
My morphine-soaked haze only allowed glimpses and fragments: the bracing air coming in from an open window, the rough comfort of my mother’s fingers wiping my fever-moist brow, my father’s tears. A neuroradiologist explained to my parents how precarious my situation was—how often people died the instant an aneurysm ruptured, and even after treatment, only slightly more than half of these patients actually survive the next few days. A few days after the surgery and a battery of tests, Dr. Rustam Al-Shahi Salman, the consultant neurologist overseeing my case, made my parents aware of the short- and long-term issues at hand.
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