When you are dying, at least in my limited experience, you start remembering everything. Images come in flashes\u2014people and places an stray conversations\u2014and refuse to stop. I see my best friend from elementary school as we make a mud pie in her back yard, top it with candles and a tiny American flag, and watch, in panic, as the flag catches fire. I see my college boyfriend, wearing boat shoes a few days after a record-breaking snowstorm, slipping and falling into a slush puddle. I want to break up with him, so I laugh until I can\u2019t breathe.<\/p>\n
Maybe my brain is replaying my life now because I have a terminal diagnosis, and all these memories will be lost. Maybe it\u2019s because I don\u2019t have much time to make new ones, and some part of me is sifting through the sands<\/p>\n
George, who was then a urology resident at the hospital, began calling friends who were primary-care doctors and ob-gyns. Everyone thought it was something to do with the pregnancy or the delivery. After a few hours, my doctors thought it was leukemia. My parents, Caroline Kennedy and Edwin Schlossberg, had brought my two-year-old son to the hospital to meet his sister, but suddenly I was being moved to another floor. My daughter was carried off to the nursery. My son didn\u2019t want to leave; he wanted to drive my hospital bed like a bus. I said goodbye to him and my parents and was wheeled away<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
When you are dying, at least in my limited experience,<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":80,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[13,14,9,15],"class_list":["post-79","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-caroline-kennedy","tag-edwin-schlossberg","tag-foo-fighters-news","tag-george"],"yoast_head":"\n