Brain stroke: What a long, strange trip it has been for columnist Mark Hinson

June 02, 2018

Losing names was the first thing to go.

His name might have been Nathan. Or Nicholas. It could have been Nicos. He was large, he was Greek and he worked the graveyard shift when I was locked up in the Neuro Intensive Care Unit.

Nathan and I got to know each other around 4:30 every morning. He wheeled me down to the belly of the building for a photo session with the C-SPAN. I knew it was the camera that took interior pictures of my brain, which now featured a quarter-sized pool of blood in the back of my spine. But I called it C-SPAN instead of the CT scan anyway.

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