A compelling account of surviving a freak accident, and a fascinating exploration of the science of trauma and recovery.
Late one night, while Rebecca Fogg was alone in her apartment, her hand was partially amputated in an explosion. Quick thinking saved her life, but the journey to recovery would be a slow one. As the doctors rebuilt her hand, Rebecca (who also survived 9/11) began rebuilding her sense of self by studying the physical and psychological process of recovery. Interspersing the personal with the medical, Rebecca charts her year of rehabilitation, touching on the marvelously adaptable anatomy of the hand; how the brain’s fight-or-flight mechanism enables us to react instantly to danger; and why trauma causes some people to develop PTSD and gives others a whole new lease on life. Told with emotional and intellectual clarity, Beautiful Trauma is a celebration of the resilience of the human spirit and the wonder of the human hand.
What does one think of ‘the beautiful trauma?’ is the title oxymoronic or self-evident? Well this beautiful book that I’m reading is a DNF status I.e : did not finish. This is not because it is traumatic, rather because it is beautiful and has to be savoured. I would like to posit that it begins where ‘The Beautiful Mind’ left off or conversely, ‘ the beautiful mind’ begins where this book left off. The book also makes me wonder if there is ever a beginning and an end. At an rate, it is a must read.
Going against the grain of most of the reviews, I found that the medical information was the most interesting part of the book. I have, like, half a dozen hand-centric hobbies, and the accompanying abundance of hand- and wrist-based pain, so everything related to the anatomy of hands was fascinating to me. It's less interesting to read about people comforting and complimenting the author a few times every memoir-heavy chapter, but that's what you sign up for in a memoir like this, I guess, so that's a me problem, not a book problem.
Choppy. This was challenging to read through the scientific parts which I found destroyed the flow of the story. If you are scientifically minded this one is for you. Not my cup of tea.
If you are not fascinated by all things medical, you probably won't like this book nearly as much as I did. There is a lot of science and detailed explanations of surgery, anatomy, and nerves included. However, there is enough personal memoir to engage someone who is only mildly interested in the medical details.
Fortunately, I am a geek for medical stories, and since I also suffered a major orthopedic injury due to a 2005 bicycle crash, I could relate to and empathize with Rebecca Fogg's 2006 experience when her right (dominant) hand was severely injured in a freak toilet explosion. Yes, a toilet explosion, bizarre as that sounds. In my case, my pelvis was fractured, resulting in surgery, permanent nerve damage (not as bad as it sounds, just a numb spot on the top of my right thigh that I only rarely notice), an arduous rehabilitation period, and occasional mild achy pain to this day. So, I was a sucker for this story. It also made me feel like I lucked out, because the hardware I have in my right ilium and the remaining nerve damage doesn't affect my life on a day to day basis the way Ms. Fogg's sensory issues with her dominant hand remind her every day of her life-changing injury. Fortunately, she is doing well and has not let the accident stand in the way of having a rich and fulfilling life. I'm happy that she shared her story, and I certainly learned more about hands than I ever dreamed possible.
This book grabbed me from the first paragraph! Beautiful Trauma combines the author's experience of having her hand seriously injured in an apartment accident and all the medical and mental health information she gained during her recovery. @rebeccafoggbooks guides the reader through her journey of "an Explosion, an Obsession, and a New Lease on Life," in this part memoir/part science book. She writes, "The experience of trauma changes us. Like spilled ink, it seeps into every aspect of our being, perceptibly and imperceptibly tinting memory, perspective, identity, and beliefs, long after clinical symptoms fade. Prompted by almost any encounter with hardship these days, I recall the loneliness and anxiety provoked by needing help during recovery but not knowing where it would come from; the burden of having to spin optimism out of uncertainty for weeks on end; or the cramped-chest sensation accompanying upsetting emotions that need venting but defy articulation or lack a ready ear. It hurts to remember myself, and recognize others, confronting such difficulties."
A smooth blend of medical information and personal story. As a reader, you have so many questions about the author’s extraordinary accident: why did it happen in the first place? am I at risk of this occurring to me? Why didn’t she feel pain until she reached the hospital? How much sensation can you regain after a partial amputation?
The mix of medical information and personal story is also revelatory of the author’s psyche: to heal, she needs to understand what is happening to her body. If you share a similar mindset, a similar curiosity, and need to grasp the situation (no pun intended), then I believe you will find her book as riveting as I did.
I felt a kind of reckoning, that the life I’d been living was over, and this was the next life, however long it lasted.
***½
The author suffered a horrific injury in a freak accident that almost took her hand off and might make you think twice about flushing a toilet with your dominant hand. Life can change in an instant, we all know that, but she unfortunately had to live it through this experience. This book is about that, as well as physiology and psychology after traumatic injury.
I would like to see a book from her also about her experience living in London as an ex-pat.
Really enjoyed this. As a survivor of two surgeries (albeit planned ones), I relate heavily to the author’s approach of learning about her injury and dedicating herself to rehab, as well as the other emotional processes of grief, existential crisis, and relearning how to relate to others.
Whilst the book wrapped up, I was reminded of my gratitude for my own body - problems and all - and hope to continue as the author puts it, “a peaceful relationship” with toilets.
Well-written memoir for the science/medically inclined, good mix of those two genres. Images would have maybe helped convey points (specifically anatomy). Heartening real-life struggles with an impaired hand with a good attitude towards life. Would have liked more information (other than the fiddle) of what Rebecca is doing now (her foundation).
I'm not a regular non-fiction or memoir reader, but I loved the book and gulped it down almost entirely in a day. The author gives understandable comparisons (a broken candy cane) and try this at home stuff that helps a layperson understand the science parts. The structure of the book propels you, as you take dives into topics like pain tolerance or trauma, then circle back to "what happened next" - you will be reading fast to find out!
I love nonfiction medical stories however this one was not for me. I was often bored and found myself daydreaming and then skimming over so much of the details. Let me say I was in the medical field and really enjoy medical stuff however these were just too in-depth for me. Perhaps the author chose to include them to add some length to her book however sadly it didn’t work for me.
I personally enjoyed the science based chapters, as it was a nice refresher on hand anatomy & function from school. That being said I could understand why those chapters dragged on for those not in the medical field/rehab.
The part about the accident and the medical information is fascinating... the details about the author's life, and I completely do not mean this in a bad way whatsoever, are the kind of details that aren't really that enthralling if you don't know the person.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.