Category: Memoir (Page 2 of 3)

The Conversations We Never Had by Jeffrey H Konis

October 4, 2016 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

The Conversations We Never Had is a new memoir/historical fiction novel by Jeffrey H. Konis. It tells the tale of a grandson who had taken his grandmother for granted, but didn’t realize it until it was too late.

“My father remembers nothing about his real parents. They were dead by the time he was nine. Olga, his mother’s younger sister, not only survived the Holocaust, but was able to find my father at his hiding place – a farm in Poland – and later brought him to America to raise as her own. In all that time, he never asked her any questions about his parents,” says Jeffrey. “Years later, I moved in with Olga for a period of time, but I allowed history to repeat itself – a classic mistake – and failed to ask her the same questions my father avoided. Olga has been gone for more than twenty years, along with everything she could have told me. I am left with a sense of guilt and profound regret, wishing so badly that I could go back and have a second chance to get to know her better and learn more about my family from the only person in the world who knew them and remembered them.”

The Conversations We Never Had is a chronicle of Jeffrey’s time spent with his Grandma “Ola” and an imagining of the stories she might have shared had he only took the time to ask the questions. It is a heartwarming story that will leave you eager to spend time with your family and learn more about them before it’s too late.

Many thanks to Book Publicity Services for introducing me to this touching story. Many of us have regrets that we didn’t spend time with our family when we had the chance – myself included. Reading this story should encourage you to rectify that situation sooner rather than later.

Excerpt from Chapter 2 – Grandma Ola and Me

Over the following days, I found myself picking up the old routine of going to classes, hitting the library, getting a slice or two for dinner, going home and hibernating in my room. Grandma would occasionally check on me, I think more than anything to make sure it was indeed me and not some wayward stranger. I felt bad not spending more time with Grandma the way I had that night when we talked about her dad, but I guess I was too tired after my long days or unsure how to restart the conversation. I knew Grandma was lonely, lonelier with me around than she would have been alone. Then there was something of a break in my schedule. It was the weekend after Thanksgiving and, caught up with all my work, I decided to spend some time with Grandma and talk. Late Saturday afternoon, after the caregiver had left, I approached her.

” I know it’s been awhile but I was wondering whether we could talk some more, if you’re up for it, that is.”

“Up for it? I’ve been ‘up for it’ for the last two weeks. What do you think, that I’ll remember these things forever? You think my memory will get better as I get older?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been busy with school and…” ”Jeffrey, you barely say hello to me. How many grandmothers do you have anyways? Well?”

Interesting question but, of course, she was right. My maternal grandmother died when my mother was a young girl; I never knew her father, Grandpa Eugene, who died when I was two.

But Grandma Ola said something else that made me stop to think for a second: her memory would surely deteriorate, and in the not-too-distant future. Once that went, so did any chance of learning about my paternal grandparents. There was now a sense of urgency to my mission. Indeed, there were increasing signs that her mind was starting to slip.

The phone had rung, a few nights previously, and I gave Grandma first dibs to pick up the phone to see who it was, as this was pre-caller i.d. The phone kept ringing and I looked in on Grandma, who I knew was lying on the couch in her room. The scene upon which I stumbled was humorous, though it should not have been: there was Grandma, holding a pillow to her ear and talking into it, “Hol-low? Hol-low?” I quickly picked up the phone just as my dad was about to hang up. He often called to check on both of us, to make sure that we hadn’t yet killed each other, that we were still alive.

As willing as Grandma was to have me and as eager and grateful I was to live with her, we each had our own trepidations about this new living arrangement, this uncharted territory in which we were to find ourselves. Grandma Ola had taken in her first new roommate in over forty years. Grandma, I suspect, felt responsible for my well-being. For all she knew, I could be entertaining all sorts of guests and be a constant source of noise and irritation that she had been mercifully spared for so long. I, on the other hand, was moving in with an elderly woman whose mind was on the decline, someone for whose well-being I would be responsible. Not that Grandma expected this of me; then again maybe she did.

She had employed caregivers seven days a week from nine to seven, who would look after her needs, meals, laundry, baths, doctors’ visits, grocery shopping – everything. Grandma, who was a proud, independent woman, and did not wish to argue or appear unreasonable with these good- hearted people, particularly Anna, seemed to accept their help with graciousness and gratitude. Anna may well have a different story to share but this is what I had observed. Above all, Grandma was a realist; she was aware of her own limitations.

What did I add to this equation? Not a whole lot. I did provide Grandma with some psychological comfort in the evenings when I was home. Should some life-threatening event occur, a bad fall for example, I was there to help. My services had been called upon once in this regard, though the fall in question was more humorous than harmful.

I woke up to a yell from Grandma in the middle of one night. My first thought was that she was having a nightmare and ran to her room to check on her, only she wasn’t there. Puzzled, I was on my way to the kitchen but noticed the light was on in the bathroom. I knocked and opened the door a crack. “Grandma, are you in there? Are you okay?” I asked.

She cried that she wasn’t and asked for help. I walked in to find my grandmother stuck in the bathtub on her back from which she was unable to extricate herself. She explained that she had been about to sit on what she thought was the toilet, not realizing her error until it was too late. I scooped her up and carried her back to her bed. I made sure she was indeed okay and wished her goodnight.

I suppose I shouldn’t have found any of this humorous, that this was a sad result of aging, a dreaded process, and that I should have been more compassionate and understanding. True, I suppose, but my understanding under the circumstances consisted of making sure Grandma was all right, carrying her to bed and keeping a straight face through it all. But it was funny. The only thing that wasn’t so funny was that I would be exhausted in my classes the next day owing to my lack of sleep.

As her new roommate, I was also expected to provide Grandma with some company, particularly since she had recently lost her husband. My father, I knew, expected at least this much from me; I didn’t know, on the other hand, what she expected. She likely considered my presence a mixed blessing; I might be nice to have around but also something of an intrusion.

Want your own copy? You can pick it up [easyazon_link identifier=”1478767294″ locale=”US” nw=”y” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″]here[/easyazon_link].

About the Author

After practicing law for many years, Jeffrey H. Konis left the profession to embark on a career as a high school social studies teacher. His first book, From Courtroom to Classroom: Making a Case for Good Teaching, offers a unique perspective for teachers who seek to inspire their students to learn for the sake of learning. His latest work, The Conversations We Never Had, was released in May 2016. Jeffrey loves reading, collecting fine art photography, soccer – especially Liverpool F.C. – travel, and his family most of all. He currently resides in Goshen, New York with his wife, Pamela, and sons, Alexander and Marc.

Readers can connect with him on Facebook, Twitter, and Goodreads.

Patient H.M. by Luke Dittrich

September 20, 2016 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

In 1953, a twenty-seven-year-old factory worker named Henry Molaison—who suffered from severe epilepsy—received a radical new version of the then-common lobotomy, targeting the most mysterious structures in the brain. The operation failed to eliminate Henry’s seizures, but it did have an unintended effect: Henry was left profoundly amnesic, unable to create long-term memories. Over the next sixty years, Patient H.M., as Henry was known, became the most studied individual in the history of neuroscience, a human guinea pig who would teach us much of what we know about memory today.

Patient H.M. is, at times, a deeply personal journey. Dittrich’s grandfather was the brilliant, morally complex surgeon who operated on Molaison—and thousands of other patients. The author’s investigation into the dark roots of modern memory science ultimately forces him to confront unsettling secrets in his own family history, and to reveal the tragedy that fueled his grandfather’s relentless experimentation—experimentation that would revolutionize our understanding of ourselves.

Dittrich uses the case of Patient H.M. as a starting point for a kaleidoscopic journey, one that moves from the first recorded brain surgeries in ancient Egypt to the cutting-edge laboratories of MIT. He takes readers inside the old asylums and operating theaters where psychosurgeons, as they called themselves, conducted their human experiments, and behind the scenes of a bitter custody battle over the ownership of the most important brain in the world.

Patient H.M. combines the best of biography, memoir, and science journalism to create a haunting, endlessly fascinating story, one that reveals the wondrous and devastating things that can happen when hubris, ambition, and human imperfection collide.

Many thanks to NetGalley for this ARC.

This book is more than a memoir; more than an expose of the lobotomy trade; more than a poignant tale of a man whose life was largely lived in the present moment. It’s an unsettling view of a medical procedure touted as something to make willful women “compliant” and violent men “placid”. The imagery of the procedure itself is even more eerie – the author describes the hippocampus as “being sucked up” by the vacuum used to perform the surgery. Implements such as a trephine drill, a scalpel, and forceps are used to obliterate parts of the brain responsible for making each of us human. Patients vomit or sing during the surgery, their brain sending out chaotic impulses. Afterwards, they are a shell of their former self, sometimes mute, dull, or forgetful.

Patient H.M. was the most intensively studied lobotomy “victim”, and his journey from epileptic to amnesiac is well chronicled here. Adding to the drama is that the grandfather of the author (Dr William Scofield) is the surgeon that operated on H.M.

There is backstabbing and intrigue within the medical community as well; one of H.M.’s fiercest protectors, neuroscientist Suzanne Corkin, may have destroyed much of her written notes on H.M., thereby casting a shadow over how much of her research was actually correct and reliable. It is mind boggling to learn about the amount of “experimentation” done on men and women, all in the name of advancing scientific knowledge. Consent at times was dubious, even after the Nuremberg Trials. The doctors thought they were doing the best for these patients, but as the author puts it, their hubris and audacity changed lives not always for the better.

Towards the end of the book, there is a section on H.M.’s actual thoughts on himself and his memory. He tries to put a positive spin on things, noting that always living in the present makes things interesting. I suppose you can’t miss what you never had; but I also was very deeply touched by the portrayal of this man who underwent a lobotomy because he was desperate to end his constant seizures. Was the quality of his life made better by suctioning out parts of his brain? That’s the gist of PATIENT H.M. – there are uncomfortable questions and sometimes dubious answers that make sense at times, but in actuality heinous, unspeakable deeds were committed against innocent people.

The author does a wonderful job of forcing the reader to consider these broken people as tragic creatures, unknowing fodder (sometimes referred to as “material”) for the surgeons who were all eager to try out this new and groundbreaking procedure.

Also broken are the main characters: the surgeon Scoville, the neuroscientist Corkin, and the brain researcher Jacopo Annese, who took possession of H.M.’s brain after the famous amnesiac died. After live streaming the dissection of the brain, there followed a volatile custody battle between Corkin and Annese over who was the “real” owner of the organ. Everyone wanted a piece of H.M. , either in life or death – and akin to Henrietta Lacks, he was never truly compensated for it.

I dare you to read this book and not be moved. PATIENT H.M. is educational, thrilling, and serves as a reminder of just how far medical science has come – and the depths it has gone to in order to reach this point.

You can pick up your copy [easyazon_link identifier=”0812992733″ locale=”US” nw=”y” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″]here[/easyazon_link].

Becoming Unique by James Charles

December 29, 2015 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

Becoming Unique is a moving and informative account of one man’s journey towards Autism Spectrum Disorder. Whilst delivering practical and constructive advice for those living with autism, Charles also examines the positive attributes of the disorder, which he calls a diffability. Becoming Unique is also a story of faith, as Charles examined his relationship with God and how he made peace with his diagnosis. A rare and valuable first-person narrative about living with autism, James Charles’ story will stay with the reader forever.

James Charles grew up in County Leitrim, Ireland to a family of seven children. In Ireland James received his education and a good awareness of the Catholic faith. James moved to England aged 20, but never considered himself an immigrant due to England being the country of his birth. Despite that, James had difficulty with people understanding his Irish accent and frequently changed jobs within his first year in England. James began to feel more like his old friends still living in Ireland, when he started college part-time in September 1987 and a few months later he worked as a care worker in a hospital caring for adults with learning disabilities and this was to influence much of his career.

After a few years in care work, James quit concentrating on being a full-time student and where he gained a Higher National Diploma (HND) in Public Administration. However James returned to Ireland in 1992 due to limited job opportunities in Luton and being unable to get a further grant to complete his degree. James was a full-time student in 1993 at University College Cork (UCC), where he hoped to gain a Bachelor in Social Science degree with the aim of becoming a Social Worker. While James succeeded in England working on continuous assessments and no exams, James faced the exam nightmare just like when he was a boy, resulting only remaining a year at UCC. Yet James remained living in Cork prior to returning to England in 1995.

James returned to care work, but this time in mental health care settings in London. James would later say “it was not exactly an experience of being thrown in the deep end”, as James had experience of people with mental health problems both when working in learning disabilities but also through people he got to know over the years. After six months James was finished agency work in mental health and returned to one of his old jobs in July 1995. James had no intention of further job moves and remained in his post as a care worker in learning disabilities, till he moved to Stafford to become a student nurse in mental in 1998. It was here James met his future wife, James later said “she was the only stable thing in my life”. While James often had many struggles in more than twenty five years of working, ten of them years were spent working as a mental health nurse. In 2008 James and his wife moved to one of the British islands, where they lived and worked for five years and it was while working here, it was discovered that James had Autistic Spectrum Disorder.

This is a book about a man who was bullied, a victim of discrimination and experienced difficulty on many occasions with his communication. It is also about growing up in Ireland and like many James emigrated to England in the 1980’s, as well as trying to integrate into the socialising environment. As well as struggling with many changes, struggling with faith played a big part throughout his life, but the book also shows that faith is not through one religion. The book looks at the challenges and misunderstandings faced by many Autistic people, even those on the so called high functioning Autistic spectrum. Yet the book also looks at a future for Autism and what Autism can contribute to the world.

Becoming Unique is the voice of someone Autistic rather than the views of a clinical expert. Having an Autistic voice is important, especially where many Autistic individuals often cannot communicate. Becoming Unique also shows that Autistic individuals can have common interest like football and music, as this is shown in the Chapter Glasgow Celtic. The book also shows that more work needs to be done to support Autistic individuals, but also many other individuals struggling with a disability.

Want your own copy? You can pick it up [easyazon_link identifier=”1909477907″ locale=”US” nw=”y” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″]here[/easyazon_link].

Guest Post by Kevine Walcott, author of INSTITUTIONALISED

November 27, 2015 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

Kevine Walcott was a successful businesswoman living a peaceful, prosperous life in the United Kingdom. In 2009, she opened a YouTube account and joined the social media world. She didn’t realize that this innocent decision would unravel her happy life.

Walcott, who was once a devout Christian, posted videos about her faith and viewed some clips about ancient Egyptian religions. Suddenly, vile and threatening messages from mysterious people flooded her YouTube in-box. At first, she asked the harassers to stop. Then, she simply ignored the messages. When they began posting videos about her and sharing her real name and personal information, Walcott turned to the authorities for help.

Ironically, seeking assistance would be her greatest mistake. Walcott discovered links between government agents, the National Health Service, and the cyber attacks. Soon, the attacks would make the leap from cyberspace to the real world, and Walcott would end up in a government psychiatric ward.

Her explosive new book exposes the terrifying dangers of unchecked government control, antiquated mental health laws, and the corrupt ties between the two.

Walcott’s discovery of the links between the NHS and law enforcement almost got her shut away for life. With the release of Institutionalised, she’s fighting back.

What if you wake up one day and find yourself at the centre of online trolling (abuse), and only months and years later to be told you are mentally ill when talking about your experience? What happens when the only witness of what goes on in your home is you and your perpetrator? When the police, intelligence services and doctors are in bed together there is no end to your suffering. Being told it is all inside your head and having no place to run and no one to turn to for help. These scenarios may sound like a nightmare, but for victims of government harassment these experiences are real. One in four of the population will suffer from a mental health condition at least once in their life, but to have mental illness being used as a punitive psychiatric policy is too much to stomach.

I was once a globe-trotting business owner; confident, happy and seemingly untouchable. However, after becoming the victim of YouTube cyber-attacks, I found myself institutionalised at an NHS facility and under the control of the country’s medieval mental health laws.

In ‘Institutionalised’, I bare all. Most shocking is that the cyber-attacks were not initiated by teenage trolls or a disgruntled former lover; but agents working for the UK Government. Prepare to learn about a shocking new form of modern oppression, because I have one searing story to tell.

My shocking and frightening new memoir describes my online victimisation at the hands of UK Government operatives, leading to my being institutionalised under the British government’s punitive psychiatric strategy. Fusing a memoir with activism, I pull no punches when exposing the illegal relationship between intelligence services and the NHS, while calling on readers to spread the world and end this new digital form of Governmental oppression.

“It is vital that the NHS separates and distances itself from Police and Intelligence Services. Right now, they are virtually in bed with each other.”

“Health professionals cannot make correct diagnoses while Government agents are part of the process and abusing their powers for the sake of control.”

“As a result, I became involved in the judiciary in ways I could never have imagined, and that entire process was also moulded around the Government’s mandate to control. If any case appears to be exposing Government abuse or their illegal activities, the Court will throw it out. It’s unbelievable, but true.”

People with a story to tell may also come under fire simply for putting pen to paper but these stories of truth must be told.

“They threatened to institutionalise me again just for wanting to tell my story. I now live my life treading on egg shells; a far cry from the beacon of confidence and independence that I was before. My advice to everyone is to watch your movements, be careful what you seek out online and – above all – trust nobody.”

Want your own copy? Click [easyazon_link identifier=”B00OJFOHY2″ locale=”US” nw=”y” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″]here[/easyazon_link].

About the Author:

Kevine Walcott is a property professional with a masters degree from University College London. She had found herself at the centre of an online hate campaign after accessing videos on ancient Egyptian religion on YouTube. She had discovered that some of her harassers were government agents. She had fought with her harassers who took their campaign offline and onto the streets and into her home. She had documented her experience in this thrilling memoir where the accounts are frightening. She told how her experience left her institutionalised by those using mental health as a disguising veneer to cover up abuses by law enforcement and the intelligence services and the role religion and history places in these unfortunate events.

Little Texas Sweetheart by Julia Chadwell

August 25, 2015 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

Little Texas Sweetheart is the gripping story of one woman’s spiritual, mental, and physical journey across America. The book takes you through the terror of domestic violence and abuse. The story of how she and their eight children escape to a free and healthy life is a hair-raising page-turner. The book is a chronicle of the advance of women’s rights in America.

I had the pleasure of meeting the author at BookCon 2015. Her story was so compelling I asked for a review copy, and she was gracious enough to give one to me. Thanks, Julia!

EXCERPT:

On a cold morning in Northern Florida, I am sent into a pancake house to ask if they could give us some food. The manager looks at me as if I am a cur dog. He looks out the window and sees three little cold, hungry waifs standing by an old jalopy. Then he sees Ronald in his Army field jacket, stocking cap, and long red beard. He winces and turns to me sighing.

He says, “Bring the children in. I will feed them, but not you. I won’t even let him come in here.”

I bring the children into the fragrant warmth and seat them on high stools at the counter. I watch their eyes light up as the waitress brings them plates stacked high with golden pancakes.

As they begin to eat, a gentleman customer steps up to the counter and says, “I’d like to buy breakfast for the lady.”

Written in an unassuming style and full of raw emotion, LITTLE TEXAS SWEETHEART is an eye opening account of domestic violence and despair. I could not read this book more than a few chapters at a time, as the events described depressed and angered me. Hearing of precious possessions broken and thrown away, slaps and punches doled out, and Ronald’s viselike grip on the freedom of the family was just too much to take in large doses.

I actually had to re-read the passage when the police came to the house to see if everyone was all right, and left without doing anything. One of the officers even admonished one of the author’s children, saying “Daddies do that sometimes”–explaining that sometimes women have to get slapped to keep them in line. The times were so different then, and women truly had no rights.

Picture a woman with 3, 4, then 5 children in tow, living in a car or on a dirty campground, begging for food and clothing, washing that clothing by hand and trying to maintain a brave front. Now imagine that same woman being told that things were “her fault for being a bad mother and wife”.

Victims of domestic abuse are often people with no self confidence and a history of abuse during childhood. They may think that things truly are their fault and they are powerless to make a change. My heart went out to Chadwell time and time again, as Ronald would sweet talk her after a beating, or promise that “this time” they would stop moving from city to city, in search of the perfect job and living arrangements.

Make no mistake–this woman was no dummy. She got multiple degrees and became a teacher, and was always on the lookout for simple ways to educate and entertain her own children. Who knows where she would have made her way in the world if things were different?

Imprisoned by her own shame at the failure of her marriage, she stayed with her husband and endured years of abuse. This story matter of factly tells us how she prayed for help; sometimes her God helped her, sometimes not.

Particularly enlightening to me was the emphasis on how different things were in the 50’s and 60’s: domestic disturbances were the norm, almost expected, and were treated as minor things. Women were considered secondary citizens and sometimes “needed” to be kept in line, and the manly policeman apologized to the Man of the House for bothering him with a silly thing like an unexpected visit.

Chadwell makes no apologies for what she endured; at the end of the book she realizes that she is a battered woman with no self esteem, and that there are many others like her. She finally builds a support system and finds her backbone. What a relief to be rid of the evil Ronald!

I guarantee you will feel outrage, disgust, and pity for this poor woman who wasted so many years of her life being miserable and downtrodden. Her goal in writing this book and exposing her shame was to help others in her position. When I spoke to her at BookCon, she was a lovely, well spoken, and kind individual, who gives no outward scars of her ordeal. She has a strong faith in God and just wants to move forward and be happy.

This is a story I’ll not soon forget, nor will I ever forget Ms. Chadwell.

Want your own copy? You can pick it up [easyazon_link identifier=”0615410731″ locale=”US” nw=”y” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″]here[/easyazon_link].

The Real Doctor Will See You Shortly by Matt McCarthy

July 14, 2015 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

In medical school, Matt McCarthy dreamed of being a different kind of doctor—the sort of mythical, unflappable physician who could reach unreachable patients. But when a new admission to the critical care unit almost died his first night on call, he found himself scrambling. Visions of mastery quickly gave way to hopes of simply surviving hospital life, where confidence was hard to come by and no amount of med school training could dispel the terror of facing actual patients.

This funny, candid memoir of McCarthy’s intern year at a New York hospital provides a scorchingly frank look at how doctors are made, taking readers into patients’ rooms and doctors’ conferences to witness a physician’s journey from ineptitude to competence. McCarthy’s one stroke of luck paired him with a brilliant second-year adviser he called “Baio” (owing to his resemblance to the Charles in Charge star), who proved to be a remarkable teacher with a wicked sense of humor. McCarthy would learn even more from the people he cared for, including a man named Benny, who was living in the hospital for months at a time awaiting a heart transplant. But no teacher could help McCarthy when an accident put his own health at risk, and showed him all too painfully the thin line between doctor and patient.

The Real Doctor Will See You Shortly offers a window on to hospital life that dispenses with sanctimony and self-seriousness while emphasizing the black-comic paradox of becoming a doctor: How do you learn to save lives in a job where there is no practice?

Not all doctors come with the confidence and arrogance familiar to us all. Every one of them started out the same way – new graduates in their intern year, struggling to assimilate their textbook knowledge with real life. Matt McCarthy shares his experience in a self deprecating and sometimes comic way.

Taking place over a year’s time, THE REAL DOCTOR WILL SEE YOU SHORTLY shows the reader how McCarthy matures as a doctor and as a self-aware human. He was so awkward and hesitant in the beginning, I wondered if he was going to make it through the year. At times I wondered what made him so timid. There was a career decision elaborated upon early in the book, and I was disappointed in his choice. I truly felt he made the wrong move, given his character and personality. In the final part of the book, he addresses that choice and why he made it. Those words provided some sort of closure for me and I finally agreed with his decision. In his own words:

But as the year wore on, I developed the ability to think outside the diagnosis, beyond the science of medicine to the art of medicine. I discovered that there is so much more to being a doctor than ordering tests and dispensing medications. And there is no way to teach that. It simply takes time and repetition.

…I was meant to do whatever the hell you’d call the extraordinary stuff we did at Columbia. Intern year had fundamentally changed me–it had altered the way I viewed the world and myself–and it was unquestionably the most fun I never wanted to have again.

Patients and cases are outlined, some with great detail, others just to show what lessons he was learning. One of the complaints I have is that some patients’ stories end abruptly with McCarthy never seeing the person again; others just aren’t followed up on. I understand that real life is like that, and these patients are composites of many; but I grew frustrated with things not being tied up neatly. Two cases that loomed large in the author’s life: Benny Santos and Carl Gladstone are featured in almost every chapter, as they illustrate just how far things have progressed over the year. Others, like “Dre” and asthmatic Darryl, just vanish into the night.

That really is my only issue with THE REAL DOCTOR. McCarthy’s writing is easy to follow, and pulls no punches in showing the lay person how hard doctors work and the struggles, internal and external, they face on a daily basis. There is a minimum of gory details, and the medical jargon is easy to grasp. Nor is there the overly glib, broadly humorous style I’ve seen in other books. That was a relief, as I think that takes away from the truly serious nature of the subject

This was a good addition to my “true medical stories” bookshelf. Want your own copy? You can pick it up [easyazon_link identifier=”0804138656″ locale=”US” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″]here[/easyazon_link].

I received this book from Blogging for Books for this review. Check out the author’s page here.

Internal Medicine by Terrence Holt

March 17, 2015 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

A collection of essays about life as a surgical intern.

Terrence Holt, whose In the Valley of the Kings was hailed as a “work of genius” (New York Times) and made Amazon’s Top Ten Short Story Collections of the year, brings a writer’s eye and a doctor’s touch to this powerful account of residency.

Intense, ironic, heartfelt, and heartbreaking, these nine vivid stories put us at the bedside of a patient dying in a house full of cursing parrots, through a nightmarish struggle to convince a man that he has cancer, at a life-and-death effort to keep an oxygen mask on a claustrophobic patient, and in the lounge of a snowbound hospital where doctors swap yarns through the night.

Out of these “dioramas from the Museum of Human Misery”, Holt draws meaning, beauty, wonder, and truth. Personal, poignant, and meticulously precise, these stories evoke Chekhov, Maugham, and William Carlos Williams, admitting readers to the beating heart of medicine. Internal Medicine is an account of what it means to be a doctor, to be mortal, and to be human.

This book was on my “to-read” list, so I picked it up from the library. Attempts to reach the author for a review/giveaway copy were unsuccessful.

It only took a few pages for INTERNAL MEDICINE to become a great read. Told in the voice of a doctor, explaining how he handled difficult cases during his internship, this book is alternately chilling and poignant. The take away message is this: doctors have self doubt and fatigue just like everyone else, despite the brave front they put on.

Each chapter told the story of one patient, and how Holt learned from their situation. One lesson was patience, one was bravery, one was teamwork, and so on. Brilliant details and situations that everyone can identify with are what makes this such a moving and important read.

As I read about the woman whose oxygen saturation was dipping into the 80’s, yet she kept ripping her O2 mask off due to claustrophobia, I ferverently hoped I would never be ill and lingering in the hospital. The intimate details of how the human body betrays us all is what will stay with you, long after the book is finished. Holt’s writing style is easy to follow, and full of honesty.

Each chapter can be read as a stand alone, and I recommend that–for you will need time to digest the life lessons revealed with each patient’s final outcome. Holt does not hide his fear, his disgust, his anger, and his weariness. He exposes himself – and the entire medical profession – with stories that cannot help but touch your soul. What makes this book so wonderful is that the stories take place during his internship, where each moment is a learning experience and a doctor’s intuition is “make or break”. The spin on each chapter would be totally different if it was written under the guise of a man who was completely comfortable with his medical knowledge, with his ability to heal and comfort. Instead, there are questions and internal monologues, which make the doctor not larger than life, but truly human and with foibles.

The book can be graphic at times, so beware. Seasoned readers of the medical genre will enjoy it, as there are some things that I haven’t read about previously. The scenes and maladies are diverse, and there is a chilling story from a mental hospital thrown in for good measure. The only chapter I had a problem with was the last one: a seemingly out of place fable (told on a regular basis by doctors) about an incident that may or may not have taken place in real life–a rambling and unsatisfying tale told (in this case) by an older doctor in an on call room where others are trying to get some rest. I’m not sure why the author chose to end with this story, as it took the life out of the other eight chapters that went before. Other than that, I have nothing but praise for INTERNAL MEDICINE. This should be on the must read shelf for all those about to enter the medical profession.

Want your own copy? You can pick it up [easyazon_link asin=”0871408759″ locale=”US” new_window=”default” nofollow=”default” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″ add_to_cart=”yes” cloaking=”default” localization=”yes” popups=”yes”]here[/easyazon_link].

The Undertaker’s Daughter by Kate Mayfield

January 16, 2015 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

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I received this ARC through NetGalley in exchange for this honest review.

Author Kate Mayfield tells us what it was like to grow up living above her family’s funeral home in Jubilee, Kentucky, in the 1970’s. The plot is simple but there are plenty of stories to fill the book. The author tells her story in first person, and the story spans years as she grows up and comes of age. In all honesty, I almost gave up about 25% of the way through: the first part of the book is slow going, almost Southern-treacle slow. Things happen, but there is not much interest generated, as dead bodies share the same amount of urgency as meals or talking to neighbors. The only reason I kept going with it was that I was stuck at work with nothing else to read, so I kept going in desperation.

I’m really glad I did. Somehow Mayfield gets out of first gear and her stories take on more energy. We come to realize that it’s not just about growing up above a funeral home and experiencing death on a daily basis–it’s about living with a sister with a terrible mental illness. It’s about learning that your father is human and fallible. It’s about discovering yourself at the same time that you find out how insidious discrimination can be, in a small town in the 70’s. It’s about secrets, large and small, and finally grasping that the one thing all dead people leave behind are secrets.

As the pages turn I followed Mayfield through the minefield of junior high, and her first crush. Her father’s actions are still nebulous until almost the very end of the book, when we finally find out why he befriended a dotty old woman that the town shuns, and where he really got that mysterious “war wound” . Mayfield stays true to herself, seemingly the only one with a strong head and firm sense of self, overshadowed as she is by a vague older brother, a psychotic older sister, and a mother who stays by her man no matter what wrongs are perpetrated (alcoholism, infidelity). I found Mayfield’s mother the most irritating character there, with her inflated sense of Southern gentility and lack of outward emotion. The author more than adequately describes the stifling atmosphere in her childhood home.

The ending is poignant, as she explains how things finally turn out after the death of her father and everyone goes their separate ways. I especially enjoyed how she explained her visit to her childhood home, formerly the funeral home, now renovated into an apartment building. I’ve always wanted to go back to my childhood home, and I think Mayfield nails the feeling:

Each time a door opened, I experienced something familiar, but it was like walking with a veil over my face.

The downstairs area, where the business of dying had taken place, was the most changed. One of the apartments downstairs was newly renovated and empty. I stepped onto the new carpet and admired the fresh paint job, then walked through a door into a closet or storage area, a small, narrow room with no windows. We couldn’t find the light switch and stood in almost complete darkness. In the silence a sudden shiver rippled up my spine, and then I knew. This was the embalming room. I was sure of it. I could scarcely breathe. As chilling as it was, it was the most peculiar and familiar feeling, the closest I had yet come to reexperiencing my childhood home.

The sound of the real estate agent’s keys brought me out of my trance and we left. I was shattered.

I recommend this book–move past the slower start and you will be rewarded. Want your own copy? You can pick it up [easyazon_link asin=”1476757283″ locale=”US” new_window=”default” nofollow=”default” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″ add_to_cart=”yes” cloaking=”default” localization=”yes” popups=”yes”]here.[/easyazon_link]

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty

January 13, 2015 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

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Many thanks to the author, Caitlin Doughty, for gifting me this book in exchange for this honest review.

When I first learned this was published I knew I had to read it. As an almost-mortician (I was accepted into American Academy McAllister Institute of Funeral Service many years ago but never went) I really wanted to hear what Ms Doughty was going to say. Her writing is wry and emotional, and it’s easy for the reader to understand her quest to find out why death means so much to her.

The story starts out as she finds a job at a crematorium, then goes off to mortuary school in hopes of learning all she can about the funeral industry. Her motives are such that she wants to oppose the general business/embalming aspect of funerals and death; she believes in a “green” disposal, which may mean anything from cremation to being buried in the earth in a biodegradable container. Doughty feels that our attitude towards death is that of an ostrich in the sand; we prefer not to acknowledge it or prepare for it. This, she feels, is wrong. If you are able to come to terms with your eventual passing you will not have any fear, and it’s a healthier way of living.

The author illustrates this way of thinking in each of her anecdotes. Beware–this book is not for the faint of heart, as there is a good deal of description of dead bodies, what happens when you get cremated, and some near death experiences of Doughty’s. However, that does not overshadow the main thrust of the story; we can feel Doughty’s mistrust and discomfort at the funeral industry, and are able to learn why she thinks that way.

An incident that happened at a shopping mall when the author was younger sets the background for so much discussion of mortality: she watched and heard a young girl fall to her death from the second floor of a mall, and that stayed with her for many years. She developed tics and habits, to “ward off” death coming for her, and then realized that she could come to terms with it, as we all should. She feels that Americans especially are in denial about death, whereas in other parts of the world people are more comfortable; she illustrates this by including snippets of information on death and funerary customs around the globe, which I found interesting and enlightening.

Thinking about the end of your own life may seem depressing to you, but it is important that you get your affairs in order and not be afraid. It’s a lot easier said than done, but Doughty pleads her case well. She exudes a feeling of caring and encouragement, and hammers the point home that this is the one thing that brings us all together, no matter what race, color. creed or species you are.

I enjoyed the mix of humor and pathos in her writing, and would love to see something else in this vein. Doughty can be found at the Order of the Good Death online, and also has her own YouTube channel, known as “Ask A Mortician”. She is exactly what the funeral industry needs: an honest voice that demonstrates caring and empathy. I’d be honored to let Ms. Doughty handle my end of life care–would you? Read this book and let me know what you think. You can pick up your own copy [easyazon_link asin=”0393240231″ locale=”US” new_window=”default” nofollow=”default” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″ add_to_cart=”yes” cloaking=”default” localization=”yes” popups=”yes”]here.[/easyazon_link]

Doctored by Sandeep Jauhar

December 27, 2014 / Kyle Wendy Skultety / 0 Comments

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This was another book I picked up at the library for myself, and I was excited to see the author of [easyazon_link asin=”0374531595″ locale=”US” new_window=”default” nofollow=”default” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″ add_to_cart=”yes” cloaking=”default” localization=”yes” popups=”default”]Intern: A Doctor’s Initiation[/easyazon_link] had written another book. This one is of a bit darker tone, as he talks about his struggle to keep focused and happy saving lives and battling insurance companies. The main focus of this book is money and cronyism: how much it costs for medical care, how much the doctors are getting paid, ways to circumvent insurance companies’ unwillingness to pay, and quid pro quo buddy systems where referrals are the goal.

Once again, as in other books written by doctors, this was pretty depressing. On page 11 Jauhar talks about how doctors are disillusioned:

In 2001, 58% of about 2000 physicians questioned said their enthusiasm for medicine had gone down in the previous five years, and 87% said their overall morale had declined during that time. More recent surveys have shown that 30 to 40% of practicing physicians would not choose to enter the medical profession if they were deciding on a career again, and an even higher percentage would not encourage their children to pursue a medical career.

There are many reasons for this disillusionment besides managed care. An unintended consequence of progress is that physicians increasingly say they have inadequate time to spend with patients. Medical advances have transformed once terminal diseases – cancer, AIDS, congestive heart failure – into complex chronic conditions that must be managed long term.

So. We have people living longer, restrictions placed on doctors by HMOs, pressure to make ends meet at home, and doctors being forced to produce referrals in order to maintain the old boy network. That could definitely make anyone disillusioned. What’s scary about this situation is that people’s lives are at stake here. All anyone wants is to be able to trust their physician, that he will do no harm.

Jauhar tells his story, warts and all: he is frustrated at not being able to practice his own medicine, without having to network. His marriage is straining due to lack of money. He seems to be suffering from depression that is untreated. Personally, I would not want to be in the hands of a doctor that was being pressured on so many fronts. But Jauhar perserveres, tries to practice good medicine, and attempts to play the game. He marvels at the circumstance of a man, admitted to the hospital because of shortness of breath. During his 30 day, $200,000 stay, he was seen by SEVENTEEN doctors and underwent TWELVE procedures. He was discharged with only “minimal improvement in his shortness of breath” and “follow ups…with SEVEN specialists“.

As the book proceeds further, Jauhar discusses taking away the financial incentive to over test patients, and make suggestions on how to fix our beleagured healthcare system. His arguments are sound, and probably could only happen in a perfect world. I urge you to read this book, only if it will help arm you against unscrupulous surgeons and the overreach of the billing department.

The only problem I have with the book is that I wasn’t sure if Jauhar wanted to make it a story about him, or a general story about our healthcare. He will start off a chapter with a patient’s story, then end up talking about how it affected him and how frustrated he was, then insert a dialogue he had with his young son. Then the next chapter will start off with personal thoughts and stories about how he was mentally checked out of his marriage, and suddenly mention a patient. There was also a long part about him trying to moonlight, but not billing enough, not seeing enough patients, and not playing the game–but instead of trying to fix things, he seems to go into a vapor lock (that could be the depression) and let things just swirl around him and get worse. He seemed to be very wishy washy here, and let his brother and father galvanize him into action by calling in favors and getting him money making opportunities. Nothing he did made him happy, and that whole middle section of the book was very depressing and drawn out. Eventually things get better at home for the author…..but our healthcare system stays broken.

This was a very illuminating read, and a good follow up to INTERN– we see how Jauhar grows as a doctor and becomes more self aware. DOCTORED is a great book for anyone who thinks all doctors are millionaires. Want your own copy? You can pick it up [easyazon_link asin=”0374141398″ locale=”US” new_window=”default” nofollow=”default” tag=”gimmethatbook-20″ add_to_cart=”yes” cloaking=”default” localization=”yes” popups=”yes”]here.[/easyazon_link]