Tatiana Schlossberg Calls Out RFK During Her Cancer Battle – What's Behind the Tension

As the environmental journalist opened up about her latest cancer treatments, she raised concerns about the agenda of the U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services.

In an essay published on Saturday, November 22, Tatiana Schlossberg directed her frustrations toward her cousin, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. She explained how his contentious approach to health policy has shaped her experience with a terminal cancer diagnosis.

A Shocking Diagnosis and a Family Rift Revealed

The New Yorker essay titled "A Battle With My Blood" revealed that Schlossberg had been diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia, caused by a rare mutation known as Inversion 3. While outlining the treatments she had undergone, she also criticized Kennedy's role in public health.

She noted that during her CAR-T therapy, a treatment built on decades of research and extensive government investment, Kennedy was being nominated and confirmed as Secretary of Health and Human Services.

"Throughout my treatment, he had been on the national stage: previously a Democrat, he was running for President as an Independent, but mostly as an embarrassment to me and the rest of my immediate family," she declared.

However, in August 2024, Kennedy ended his presidential bid and backed US President Donald Trump. Schlossberg recalled how Trump announced that he would "let Bobby go wild" on the healthcare sector.

Schlossberg's mother attempted to block his confirmation by writing to the Senate, and her brother had already spent months challenging his misinformation.

"I watched from my hospital bed as Bobby, in the face of logic and common sense, was confirmed for the position, despite never having worked in medicine, public health, or the government," the journalist recalled.

Cancer Care in Jeopardy as Political Tensions Escalate

Schlossberg wrote that the health-care system she depended on suddenly felt unstable. Researchers and clinicians at Columbia, including her husband, George Moran, were unsure whether their work could continue or if their positions were secure.

Columbia had already become an early target of the Trump administration's campaign against what it claimed was antisemitism on campuses. Furthermore, the university had cut 180 research jobs that May after losing federal funding.

"If George changed jobs, we didn't know if we'd be able to get insurance, now that I had a preëxisting condition," she revealed.

Schlossberg also noted that Kennedy's long-standing opposition to vaccines left her deeply worried about her own future care. She feared she might lose access to the immunizations she would need again.

That uncertainty, Schlossberg added, could leave her — and countless others, including cancer survivors, young children, and older adults — permanently vulnerable.

The journalist pointed out, "Bobby has said, 'There's no vaccine that is safe and effective.' Bobby probably doesn't remember the millions of people who were paralyzed or killed by polio before the vaccine was available."

She mentioned that her father, who was raised in New York City during the 1940s and 1950s, still recalls the experience vividly. When Schlossberg asked him about receiving the vaccine, he described the moment as one that brought a profound sense of freedom.

Critical Treatments Face Extinction Under Kennedy's Watch

As Schlossberg spent more of her time relying on medical teams committed to helping patients, she saw Kennedy push for deep cuts to crucial health programs.

His agenda included eliminating nearly half a billion dollars from mRNA vaccine research, work that could have future applications for certain cancers. It also involved reducing billions in funding for the National Institutes of Health, the primary source of medical research support in the country.

Schlossberg pointed out how Kennedy also targeted the expert panel responsible for advising on preventive cancer screenings. The result of his choices was the cancellation of hundreds of NIH grants and clinical trials, disrupting care and research for thousands of patients.

"I worried about funding for leukemia and bone-marrow research at Memorial Sloan Kettering. I worried about the trials that were my only shot at remission," said Schlossberg.

The journalist shared one of her crucial experiences. Early in her illness, following a postpartum hemorrhage, she received a dose of misoprostol to stop the bleeding.

Today, the medication, which is also used in abortion care, is under review by the Food and Drug Administration at Kennedy's urging. She reflected on how critical its immediate availability was for her survival, as well as for millions of other women who rely on it for life-saving care.

As she continues her fight against cancer, Schlossberg remains determined to hold her cousin accountable for what she views as policies that are undermining the healthcare system.

A Joyful Birth Turns Into a Medical Emergency

As we previously reported, Schlossberg shared that she was diagnosed with cancer shortly after she welcomed her second child. She recounted that her daughter was born on May 25, 2024, at 7:05 a.m., just minutes after she reached Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital in New York.

She and Moran spent those first moments holding their newborn, taking in her arrival and the sense of newness she brought. A few hours went by before her doctor detected an unusual imbalance in her white blood cell count.

The doctor informed Schlossberg that her bloodwork showed troubling results. While a typical white blood cell count ranges from about 4 to 11,000 cells per microliter, hers had risen to an alarming 130,000, prompting immediate concern.

Moran, who was working as a urology resident at the time, reached out to friends in primary care and obstetrics for guidance. Most believed the situation was likely connected to the pregnancy or the delivery.

Her doctor agreed with the assessment of Moran's friends, but also noted that leukemia was a possibility. Schlossberg dismissed the concern at the time, telling Moran, "It's not leukemia," and wondering, "What are they talking about?"

As everything was going on, Schlossberg's parents, Caroline Kennedy and Edwin Schlossberg, had brought her two-year-old son to the hospital so he could meet his newborn sister. However, plans shifted quickly as she was moved to a different floor.

Her daughter was taken to the nursery, and her son resisted leaving, wanting to pretend he was steering her hospital bed like a bus. She parted ways with him and her parents before being taken away for further evaluation.

A Rare Disease for Someone So Young

Schlossberg was eventually given her diagnosis of acute myeloid leukemia, with a rare mutation called Inversion 3, a form of cancer typically found in much older patients.

Many of the specialists who evaluated her questioned whether she had spent significant time at Ground Zero because blood cancers are frequently reported among first responders.

Although she had been in New York on September 11 while in sixth grade, she did not visit the area until long after the attacks. She also emphasized that she was far from the age group usually associated with the diagnosis, having only recently turned 34.

"I did not — could not — believe that they were talking about me. I had swum a mile in the pool the day before, nine months pregnant. I wasn't sick. I didn't feel sick. I was actually one of the healthiest people I knew," she recalled.

Schlossberg found it impossible to accept the diagnosis. An active lifestyle had been central to her life as she regularly ran five to ten miles in Central Park. She once swam three miles across the Hudson River to raise funds for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.

Additionally, as an environmental journalist, she even skied the Birkebeiner, a grueling 50km cross-country race in Wisconsin that took over seven hours.

"I loved to have people over for dinner and to make cakes for my friends' birthdays. I went to museums and plays and got to jump in a cranberry bog for my job. I had a son whom I loved more than anything and a newborn I needed to take care of. This could not possibly be my life," she said.

Chemotherapy, Transplants, and Unimaginable Pain

After diagnosis, Schlossberg embarked on a grueling treatment. "I could not be cured by a standard course of treatment. I would need a few months, at least, of chemotherapy, which would aim to reduce the number of blast cells in my bone marrow. (Blast cells are immature blood cells; a high count can be a sign of leukemia)," she shared.

Schlossberg added, "Then I would need a bone-marrow transplant, which could cure me. After the transplant, I would probably need more chemotherapy, on a regular basis, to try to prevent the cancer from returning."

The mom of two spent five weeks at Columbia-Presbyterian Hospital following the birth of her daughter before being moved to Memorial Sloan Kettering for further treatment. Over the course of her illness, she underwent two bone marrow transplants.

For the first one, her sister was a compatible donor and provided the stem cells. After returning home, she continued chemotherapy but eventually experienced a relapse.

By January 2025, she enrolled in the clinical trial for CAR-T cell therapy, a type of immunotherapy that targets certain blood cancers. For the second transplant, an unrelated donor was chosen, with the rationale that cells genetically distinct from hers and her sister's might better combat the cancer.

The donor was a man in his 20s from the Pacific Northwest. Though she knew little else about him, Schlossberg imagined him perhaps as a Portland woodcutter or a Seattle tech worker, and wished she could express her gratitude.

A Mother's Worst Fear: Will Her Children Remember Her?

The second bone transplant brought her into remission, but the cancer returned once more. She participated in another clinical trial, during which her doctor indicated that her life expectancy might be limited to about a year.

"My first thought was that my kids, whose faces live permanently on the inside of my eyelids, wouldn't remember me. My son might have a few memories, but he'll probably start confusing them with pictures he sees or stories he hears," Schlossberg acknowledged.

She also reflected on how little time she was able to spend caring for her daughter. The journalist was unable to handle basic tasks like diaper changes, baths, or feedings because of the infection risks that followed her transplants.

She was away for nearly half of her daughter's first year. "I don't know who, really, she thinks I am, and whether she will feel or remember, when I am gone, that I am her mother," Schlossberg noted.

Today, Schlossberg explained that she focuses on spending meaningful time with her family even as she faces her mortality. She admitted that staying present can be challenging, but she is embracing the moments and memories of her husband, children, and everyday life as they unfold.