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In the first horrific moments after the Boston bombing, with smoke still billowing around the wounded, I know what is going through the minds of the maimed victims. They are at once conscious and unconscious. Overcome with a sense of deja vu, I feel my past converge with the future of those wounded spectators. I lost my leg in a bomb blast. I know the suffering that lies ahead for these people in Boston. And I know the possibilities, too.