Inside the Halo & beyond - the Anatomy of a Recovery (Paperback) - Common

by Maxine Kumin

In July 1998, when Maxine Kumin's horse bolted at a carriage-driving clinic, she was not expected to live. Yet, less than a year later, her progress pronounced a miracle by her doctors, she was at work on this journal of her astonishing recovery. She tells of her time "inside the halo," the near-medieval device that kept her head immobile during weeks of intensive care and rehabilitation, of the lasting "rehab" friendships, and of the loving family who always believed she would heal.

Genres: Nonfiction

208 pages, Paperback

First published May 1, 2000

About the author

Maxine Kumin's 17th poetry collection, published in the spring of 2010, is Where I Live: New and Selected Poems 1990-2010. Her awards include the Pulitzer and Ruth Lilly Poetry Prizes, the Poets’ Prize, and the Harvard Arts and Robert Frost Medals. A former US poet laureate, she and her husband lived on a farm in New Hampshire. Maxine Kumin died in 2014.

Reviews

[Joan Colby · Rating 3 out of 5]

A blow by blow account of Kumin’s rehabilitation from a broken neck caused by a fall from a horse-drawn carriage. Kumin was fortunate to survive without being paralyzed, but it was touch and go for some time. The halo which is a stabilizer for the head and neck was endured for a period of months. Anyone who has undergone rehab for a serious injury will recognize the process: the putty, pegs and clothespins designed to improve dexterity, the weights to gain strength, the squat machines, bikes and treadmills, the various torturous exercises. Kumin details these matter-of-factly, while revealing her frequent bouts of despair, but this book in no way measures up to her poetry nor her essays on country life. Nonetheless, it’s an important read for anyone undergoing the long journey of rehab.

[Esther · Rating 5 out of 5]

If Maxine Kumin were still living I'd thank her for this book. Misery loves company, and we all crave the comfort of our own tribe. Paralysis is a horror too extreme to even contemplate when well, and that doesn't change when suddenly it is no longer an abstract concept, but deeply, tragically, personal.

Having been touched by spinal cord injury, my husband's (his was an "incomplete" SCI, as was hers), Inside the Halo and Beyond brings back a lot of memories, none of them good. She ends her book only six months into her recovery, which I find remarkable. We are nearly two years in, and even though much, though not all, of my husband's once absent sensation and motor function have been recovered, I am still sometimes pummeled by PTSD, especially as the anniversary of his injury approaches. And I was not even the SCI victim. Like Victor Kumin, I became, in an instant, the "well spouse."

I am a little surprised that Ms Kumin never touches on finances. Being quite well-off, probably she and Victor could afford an excellent health insurance plan in addition to Medicare. Perhaps deductible, co-pay, in-network versus out-of-network, claims which are covered, claims which are denied, home modification expenses, adapted vehicle costs, are all concepts which, because there are adequate funds to devote to them, do not cause Ms Kumin's family unbearable added stress and worry.

But how about the good friends, fellow SCIs, that Ms Kumin makes in rehab. Were they all independently wealthy? Or, while they and their spouses were trying to cope, emotionally and physically, with what in most cases may be the worst experience of their lives, are they simultaneously fighting another, constant, sometimes losing battle against their insurance providers' efforts to limit their losses in the face of claims that will, at the very least, amount to hundreds of thousands of dollars. And in the case of a complete SCI at the cervical level--think Christopher Reeve--millions.

[Mizloo · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this even though the poet and I have little in common as regards lifestyle - she the rural pet lover and I the allergic urbanite. Her language is precise, her attitudes firm and her discretion impeccable. We learn about the injury, the pain, the horses, the farm and the seedlings. We get big juicy morsels about her relationship with one daughter, less about the other 2 grown children. There is little about her husband, beyond the tasks she could not do that he performed; their relationship, and the effects on their emotional and physical closeness is elided. In fact, she writes more about her horse's physical characteristics than his.

I did like what she chose to share: she was clear, if concise, about the emotional costs. I admired her dedication to rehab fully, despite her age. I longed to know more about the financial impact of her tribulations, but this was another area where discretion triumphed.

[miteypen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a well-written, detailed account of the aftermath of a terrible accident when the author was seventy-three. What emerges is the story of a strong, determined and, yes, fortunate person. She packs a lot of information about the accident, her recovery and many other areas of her life in 205 pages, including some of her poetry. Reading this made me want to read more of her writing. [She died this year (2014) at the age of 88.] I highly recommend this to someone who has or knows someone who has had a spinal cord injury, because it is so inspirational and informative.

[Kathleen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was well written and interesting to me as someone who works with people who have had fractures of the spine. I am thinking of making a list of books I'd like my students to read, and I'd put this on that list because it tells you so much about the patient's experience. I was familiar with some of her poetry, and the poems (few) in this book were good.

[Mary Ann · Rating 5 out of 5]

The poet Maxine Kumin recovers from a devastating accident that almost killed her--powerful.

[Michelle · Rating 1 out of 5]

I just couldn't get into this book, although I enjoy Ms. Kumin's poetry very much.