The Learning Curve
almost ten years post stroke
When I first had my injury, my therapists were clear: my recovery had to become my full-time job. I held onto the notion that I would one day return to my previous life, to the high-stakes world of investment banking. I even had my therapy tailored to relearn the executive functioning skills I’d lost—the extreme multi-tasking, the complicated phone calls while simultaneously writing an email, the instant absorption of breaking news. These were the skills I was told I had previously excelled at, and the skills I now desperately needed to relearn.
If you’re an Equity salesperson at a bank, I wouldn’t recommend a large right MCA stroke. It severely affects the part of the brain crucial for dual-tasking and thinking on the fly. You can’t exactly help put together an IPO road show when your time management is severely impaired.
Throwing Paint at the Wall
I have thrown so much paint at the wall I’m starting to feel like artist Maude Lebowski
I didn’t exactly “abandon” my goal to return to investment banking, but I came to a difficult realization: with my newly acquired neuro fatigue paired with my other impairments, I needed to start looking in other directions.
I’ve always been a high achiever. My resume included Georgetown University (double major in finance and marketing, and perhaps a triple major if we include partying. My GPA would certainly tell you that was true), co-captaining the varsity tennis team, and traveling to over ten countries up to that point in my life.
But now, my approach has been to essentially throw paint at the wall to see what sticks. I’ve written multiple half-thought-up business plans, gotten my real estate license, and dipped my toe in startups. All these ideas seemed right at one moment, but then life, or my recovery, would pull me in another direction. A seizure or another health setback would make it clear that it was time to focus on rest, or a breakthrough would mean I needed to double down on therapy and family.
No Auto-Save Button
What makes stroke recovery unique is that repetition is so important you can’t really take time off and expect your results will still be there. It’s not like Google Docs or Microsoft Word always autosaving your progress. It’s more like playing The Legend of Zelda on Nintendo 64 for hours, finally beating an unbeatable boss, but someone pulls the plug before the game saves the victory. Your progress resets.
This has happened multiple times. While some might choose the route of rage quitting, I’ve never thought of that as an option. I’ve just doubled down on my therapy and treated it even more like my full-time job.
I refuse to live the rest of my life exclusively off of my disability and my wife’s income, impressive as both are. I have a selfish need for my two young kids—currently 3.5 years old and 5 months—to know that their dad works, and works hard, at a job that has an element of meaning to it. This combination is what keeps pushing me to pursue more.
My Newest Evolution? - Building a Community
Now I’m arriving at my newest evolution. I often feel like I have a lot to say, and I don’t really know if writing it down is just cathartic for myself—like a Xanga circa 2000 for my millennial readers—or if I actually have a valuable perspective to share. My hope is that sharing my internal dialogues and debates will one day give my children a better understanding of why their daddy wasn’t going to work everyday like everyone else’s dad for a period of time.
I’ve already dipped my toes into public speaking and received incredible joy and fulfillment from those experiences. Each time, I’ve received an immediate positive feedback loop—something very absent during my solitary recovery—by helping others in the stroke, broader medical, and Jewish communities where I have spoken.
If my insight, updates, and information here turn out to be helping someone or resonating with even just a couple of people, I will continue this journey. If not, I’ll go back to really putting my nose to the grindstone with therapy and not let this side quest distract me.
Throughout my whole recovery, I have truly learned a lot about the importance/strength of family, of my friends and my community. It would certainly be kind of cool to build another community through this medium. I appreciate any and all support along the way.

