Rushdie’s first memories of regaining consciousness after surgery are of the hallucinations resulting from the powerful medications he was on. He recalls looking through elaborate buildings made of letters as he tried to focus on the loved ones anxiously waiting at his bedside. At the time, he had no idea how bad he looked, but now he understands how shocking his appearance must have been. Eliza was especially determined to show strength, refusing to burden Rushdie with her fear and grief. He was comforted when a friend read him President Biden’s statement condemning the attack and, over the next day, as other messages of support flooded in. He explains, “When Death comes very close to you, the rest of the world goes far away and you can feel a great loneliness. At such a time kind words […] make you feel that you’re not alone, that maybe you haven’t lived and worked in vain” (54). Rushdie saw this outpouring of support as evidence that in the battle between hatred and love, in which he felt himself at the center, love would win.

When the ventilator helping Rushdie breathe was removed the day after his surgery, Rushdie was happy to be able to speak again; he felt that this was the beginning of his fighting back against what had happened to him.