I woke early the next morning to a medical student who came rushing in to take a medical history. I thought it curious that she had not been informaed that I was a stroke survival who could not speak or understand language. I realized that morning that a hospital's number one responsibility should be protecting its patients' energy levels. This young girl was an energy vampire. She wanted to take something from me despite my fragile condition, and she had nothing to give me in return. She was rushing against a clock and obviously losing the race. In her haste, she was rough in the way she handled me and I felt a detail that had fallen through someone's crack. She spoke a million miles a minute and hollered at me as if I were deaf. I sat and observed her absurdity and ignorance. She was in a hurry and I was a stroke survivor - not a natural match! She might have gotten something more from me had she come to me gently with patiente and kindness, but because she insisted that I come to her in her time and at her pace, it was not satisfying for either of us. (83)

Essa passagem é do livro My Stroke of Insight, A Brain Scientist's Perrsonal Journey de Jill Bolte Taylor. Recentemente a irmã de uma amiga minha teve um aneurisma aos 45 anos de idade, e no momento está se recuperando, e ainda que a recuperação seja lenta, estamos todos contentes com o desfecho dessa surpresa por mais desagradável. Outro dia, contava eu ao vizinho dessa minha amiga o acontecido quando ele sugeriu que eu lesse esse livro. Sim, claro. Tem sido uma leitura sensacional. Tenho aprendido muito com a experiência da doutora Jill Taylor - sim, a autora do livro e sobrevivente dum derrame tem um doutorado em, adivinha?, neurociência. Vale a pena conferir.