Friends have heard the story, and still she finds herself searching for language to tell it again, again, as if the experience is a vast terrain that can never be fully circumscribed by words. The other patients in the line slept peacefully, or stared up at the ceiling, bored, or chatted with their loved ones. Soon, the tech was peering inside Rachel through a gray screen. Otherwise, Rachel lay there, half-asleep, suffering and silent. He also covers the politics and economics of the American food system as a senior editor for The New Food Economy. Lying there in the dim light, Rachel almost seemed relieved. I knew which end of the spectrum we were on.