One night, I went to play soccer and woke up from a coma five days later.
I had a stroke.
Yes, a stroke at 33. And I had met the love of my life on Instagram. Just when everything seems better than perfect, suddenly I can’t walk and talk. If life is a cruel irony, this is it. I can’t even feed myself, let alone keep a long-distance relationship alive. But I won’t give up just like that. Mom and Dad didn’t raise me that way. Life tore me apart but I will pull through.
I’m a survivor, not a victim.
Told through blog entries, this memoir breaks your heart and puts it back again with the aroma, acidity and aftertaste of life.
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