On May 20, 2017, I had just one thing on my mind: college graduation. It was a blissful day of celebration, and at the time, I had virtually no idea I was just ten days away from surviving a life-threatening stroke. I had been looking forward to beginning a new chapter of life as a college graduate, not a stroke survivor—regardless, in seven days’ time I’d be both.
On that day, I processed across Healy Lawn, the grassy front yard of Georgetown University, my four-year home, and received my diploma, the coveted piece of paper that symbolized the pinnacle of my academic achievement. I remember it all quite vividly, my splitting hangover a token of remembrance from the previous night’s bacchanal with the rest of the senior class. In my post-grad state of glee, I called to mind all the fun times I’d had in school, and dreamed of the amazing experiences I knew lay ahead.
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