Now this joe biden biography book

Prologue

February 12, 1988

Aforty-five-year-old man—white male, father of three—awoke on the floor of his hotel room. He had been unconscious for five hours.

He could barely move his legs. He did not know how he got there. He remembered only a flash of agony; he had given a speech in Rochester, New York, and returned to his room, where he felt a sensation akin to a cleaver parting his skull.

Now this joe biden biography book

For months, he had ignored a strange ache in his head and neck, burying it in Tylenol, blaming it on the ludicrous rigor of running for president while heading the Judiciary Committee of the United States Senate. The campaign had ended in embarrassment—a product of his own arrogance, he admitted to himself—but the head- aches had continued.

The man heaved himself onto the bed.

From there, his assistant got him to a plane to Delaware, where doc- tors identified a cranial aneurysm, the ballooning of an artery that fed the brain. His prospects for survival were so grim that a pri