Geoff Dyer at The London Review of Books:
It seemed inconceivable that I could have had a stroke. I was 55, way too young, and of all of my contemporaries I would have put myself last in line for such a thing. I’d never had a cigarette. I drank a fair bit, but less than many of my friends, and was drinking less with every year. I actively disliked all the foods you’re meant to avoid. Except doughnuts and croissants. I’d always eaten a lot of pastries and in New York my doughnut habit had got, well, not out of control exactly but I was doing one a day for four months. Twice a week I had a couple of poached eggs, but what did that count for in the face of the overwhelming healthiness of my life?