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My brain was bleeding.  I sat at a friend’s kitchen table, right cheek against the cold wood, images of the most recent space shuttle disaster flickering across the T.V.  I couldn’t feel my left arm.  I was dizzy and weak and the room was getting darker.

My shirt was wet.

I thought “my brain is hemorrhaging and I’m about to die”.

My life didn’t flash before my eyes.  I thought instead of my death at such a young age, forty-three, and what I ...