Leaving Rusk, Rushdie was delighted by the drive through Manhattan; he promised himself that he would resume normal life as much (and as quickly) as possible. For the first few days, Eliza arranged skilled nursing care at the Soho loft, but it soon became clear that this was unnecessary. Monica, Rushdie’s hand therapist, visited regularly. The therapy was painful and took many months, but Rushdie was determined to regain the use of his left hand and worked hard at the exercises. When his hand specialist pronounced his recovery “miraculous,” Rushdie was thrilled but also slightly sad to no longer need Monica, whose company he enjoyed and who had promised to read all his books.

During this period, other medical appointments often consumed Rushdie’s time. At one, his urologist noticed that his prostate was swollen, and for a time his doctors feared he might have prostate cancer. However, another specialist thought that the swelling might simply be a side effect of a urinary tract infection that Rushdie had contracted in the hospital, and after many tests, doctors conclusively determined that he was cancer-free. More fluid accumulated under one of Rushdie’s lungs, and he had to have it drained again. He was placed on a high-protein diet to prevent further fluid accumulation.