Written by Christine Hyung-Oak Lee, an open and honest account of what it’s like to be a victim of stroke.
“Do you remember it at all?” he asked.
“No,” I said. The Versed did its job. An anesthesiologist had once told me that anesthesia without Versed, without its amnesia-inducing qualities, would be cruel.
“But maybe,” I joked, “I wouldn’t remember it anyway.”
“Good,” he said. “You were talking to me the whole time.”
“Oh my god. What did I say?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said.
I wondered if I’d betrayed any secrets, but when I stopped to consider them, I couldn’t remember my secrets.