Life was very crowded in late October 2022.
I wouldnt make it to that dinner.
Or the festive week.
HAPPY RETURN“According to the CDC, every 40 seconds someone in the US has a stroke,” writes Bowles, photographed here 18 months after his stroke, at his apartment in London.
I was crestfallen not to find the original material intact but rather a patchwork of plywood beneath.
I remember having some slight, inexplicable unsteadiness as I wandered around.
As I crossed the threshold to the pantry, I began to collapse.
Early days in the hospital, where I had a nasogastric tube in place (for nearly two months).
Lucas soon realized that I was unresponsive and exhibiting hallmark signs of stroke.
I remember having some slight, inexplicable unsteadiness as I wandered around.
As I crossed the threshold to the pantry, I began to collapse.
At the Cleveland Clinic London, in Belgravia, I enjoyed a replenishing meadow of flowers, sent by friends.
Lucas called emergency services, and neighbors and friends began to gather.
My friend Gillian Mosely was in tears;Whatever for?I asked myself.
In fact I asked this to the assembled crowd.
A delightful visit from Naomi Campbell….
My upstairs neighbor, Kim, was home, celebrating the birthday of a close friend.
He kept reassuring me that all was going to be all right, Hamish.
Yes, said I, of course it is, and have we met?
And one from Marc Jacobs…
There was talking and commotion and…I dont remember anything else for roughly a week.
If you’re able to understand all that, youre better than I.
The reality is that a stroke can happen to anyone.
Here I am the David Hockney exhibition at London’s Lightroom, one of my first forays out of the hospital and back into the world.
One minute youre circling the globe and leading a busy, satisfying life, the next minute youre not.
Every 3 minutes and 14 seconds, someone dies of stroke.
This is one storymy storyof survival.
At the Erdem show in February 2023 in London with Anna and Doug—another early step back into the world.
The whole experience was surreal.
One chap was howlingand hurling himself from the bed at every opportunity, his body a quagmire of injury.
His wife, or partner, came often, with their very small son who was gentleness itself.
Another Moroccan lady was outraged that shed been put near me.
Another woman spoke quietly in a stream of prayernonstop, from the moment she awoke to the small hours.
A world that seemed bewildering.
A recovery that was painfully slow.
Some friends had to sit and watch it with me: I would not be diverted.
I was unable to safely swallowor speak, or walk, or go to the bathroom unaided.
My first shower was administered on the morning of November 7, two weeks following my admission to hospital.
And my first words were uttered days later, remarking to a friend, Can you believe it?
It was in those first weeks that I realized the path ahead was likely to be long and difficult.
Eventually, I realized that it would be months and months, or even years.
I didnt feel despair at this so much as a sense of impatience, of mounting frustration.
(The soft mortification still exists when I cant quite remember a word, or a name.)
It would prove inspiration for my own strugglemy own return to splendor.
Persistent failure meant heightened risk of choking or aspiration pneumonia.
There was speech and language therapy, physiotherapy, neuropsychology, physical therapy (the gym!
), and, ultimately, occupational and vocational therapy too.
I managed to remember three words.
(I would slowly start to remember more.)
A delightful visit from Naomi Campbell….
And one from Marc Jacobs…
Meanwhile I was astonished at the luxury of a private room, with a television all to myself.
In it, I began to regain my eye for interiors.
My new quarters were approximately twice the size of the bedroom in my New York apartment.
Naomi Campbell came by and caught me learning to climb the steps, one by one.
A happy periodbut not without setbacks.
The whole ordeal took about half an hour, and there were tears.
I told my sister and several friends too: Their horrified expressions spoke volumes.
But I had to live with it.
I longed for my own bedin Bloomsbury.
I longed for the thrill of new holidays, outside the country.
I longed to stare at the wonder of the new colors on my walls.
I longed even to navigate the tricky stairs to reach the bath.
At the Erdem show in February 2023 in London with Anna and Douganother early step back into the world.
We appealed to the train manager, who would have none of it.
(I bumped into Sarah Jessica Parker mad for the painting of a lady pondering quietly to herself.)
This was followed by an explosive preview of the RHS Chelsea Flower Show later that month.
at Glyndebourne, enjoying the opening night ofSemele.
Im in the process of negotiating to buy it back!
