That morning, I got on the train as always. I was a publishing director and was looking forward to embracing a new day of work, as usual. I would always turn to the crossword, but that day it didn't make sense. I'd been doing it for 30-old years, but trying to read this one was like walking through syrup(糖浆): 1 slow and hard. I thought I must be tired.
I said to my assistant. The 2 colleague contacted my wife, Beth, and she drove me straight to hospital. There, confirmation came that I'd had a stroke (中风) in the part of my brain that 3 with communication. I was now in a condition that means it's difficult or 4 to acquire and produce language. It was the only time I cried.
I was back at home a week later, and my goal was to get better and return to work in a couple of months. The way to 5 my language ability was rough. I'd look at simple pictures and try to describe them as my mind 6 round and round in the darkness, looking for words.
As the months passed, it became self-evident that I wasn't going to be able to go back to my old job. For 25 years, I had 7 myself as a publisher. I was used to a busy day of meetings. I didn't feel ready to say goodbye to my old self. There were times when I felt incredibly 8 . In the darkest months, I devoted myself to 9 . I couldn't manage novels or newspapers, 10 I tried reading poetry, and found the shorter lines less overwhelming. My speech came back, and I learned how to read again, though much more slowly. I also learned the 11 to keep up. I allowed myself to12 , and started to enjoy it.
13 , I get rid of my old skin. I grieved the past, its passing and its absence, and started to come to terms with it. Now, 10 years later, I look after my grandson a day a week, and my relationship with my family is deeper than ever. If you'd asked me 15 years ago to 14 the importance of the things in my life I might have said work, but now I'm no longer a high-achieving publisher or someone who reads 10 books a week. I'm a 15 man, and if I read 10 books a year, that's pretty good.