“Medicine still contains an oral tradition, passed down in the stories patients tell us, the ones we tell them, and the ones we tell ourselves,” writes contributor Madaline Harrison. Bodies of Truth continues this tradition through a variety of narrative approaches by writers representing all facets of health care. And, since all of us have been or will be touched by illness or disability—our own or that of a loved one—at some point in our lives, any reader of this anthology can relate to the challenges, frustrations, and pain—both physical and emotional—that the contributors have experienced.
Bodies of Truth offers perspectives on a wide array of issues, from food allergies, cancer, and neurology to mental health, autoimmune disorders, and therapeutic music. These experiences are recounted by patients, nurses, doctors, parents, children, caregivers, and others who attempt to articulate the intangible human and emotional factors that surround life when it intersects with the medical field.
Dinty W. Moore is author of the award-winning memoir Between Panic & Desire, the writing guides The Story Cure and Crafting the Personal Essay, and many other books. He has published essays and stories in The Georgia Review, Harper’s, The New York Times Magazine, The Southern Review, Kenyon Review, Creative Nonfiction, and elsewhere. He is founding editor of Brevity, the journal of flash nonfiction, and teaches master classes and workshops across the United States as well as in Ireland, Scotland, Spain, Switzerland, Canada, and Mexico.
I searched for books like this one when I was becoming increasingly interested in Health Humanities--and kept coming up empty. In this unique collection, patients, family members, caregivers, and medical professionals all give voice to experiences of bodily, physical, mental, and emotional health (with health defined broadly). Some of these creative nonfiction essays are stunning; others made me angry at the injustices explored; and one had me ugly-crying. Thought-provoking and moving.
Days of the giants. When I was in training the attending used that phrase, often after telling a story from earlier days in medicine, describing a harrowing night on call or a now legendary professor who could pull a diagnosis out of his hat like a rabbit. 'I was there,' the phrase implied, a sign like a secrete handshake. --- Medicine still contains an oral tradition, passed down in stories: the stories patients tell us, the ones we tell them and the ones we tell ourselves. There is also the story of medicine, Medicine with a capital M, the history we place ourselves in as we construct our own narratives of becoming physicians. The names of early physicians, embedded in the names of diseases or now obscure signs used in physical diagnosis, hint at that history. --- Today advances in technology allow us the illusion that we can see what is hidden, no longer depending solely on our eyes and ears, just as sailors no longer rely on scanning the waves to detect a change in the current or the subtle difference in the color of the water that signals a sandbar. --- Upstairs on the obstetrics floor chaos reigned. We learned 'push/don't push' in Spanish and Creole and took turns 'catching' the slippery newborns. On the medicine wards, among the uncontrolled diabetics and the asthmatics struggling for breath, a growing number of patients were arriving with a puzzling set of complaints: Haitians with intractable diarrhea, a persistent cough, and weight loss; young gay men with strange purple splotches, sudden crises of fever, and rapid collapse. The emergency room was the filter through which this flood of humanity had to pass through under the watchful eyes of the Miami-Dade County police. On the wall was a bulletin board with a line of cockroaches pulled from ear canals and neatly skewered with hypodermic tips, next to a worn piece of paper on which a key to Cuban prison tattoos was printed.
This is an underrated anthology that deserves more Twitter writing community credit. Some of the essays, especially Floyd Skloot's "A Measure of Acceptance," are literally stunning. I was thrown at first by the choice to include pieces by patients, caregivers, and medical providers, as I tend to very much prioritize patients' own stories and, truthfully, distrust providers' roles within and perpetuation of a deeply problematic medical establishment that can often stand against patients' subjective experiences and quality of life needs (especially when we add social determinants into the mix). But I became more grateful for this decision as I moved through the collection, being able to see all sides of the conversation and gaining an appreciation for some providers' genuine care for their patients and for the implications of their patients' stories. Definitely glad I read this book.
A fine collection of essays that explore illness and disabilities from a wide-range of voices including patients, doctors, nurses, caretakers, and family members.
A collection of essays that go between the voices and lived realities of patients, caregivers and medical personnel. A powerful reminder that illness, disability are a perennial part of life though these have been little recognised as such. The condition of being mortal, the need for compassion and joy are part and parcel of living with illness and disability.
I bought the book thinking I might pick a few essays and ended up reading all of them. A wide look at the different points of view within the world of illness, all of them personal and revealing, many heartbreaking, many inspiring. Highly recommend.