Journalist Dina Rabinovitch had just turned 40 when she was diagnosed with breast cancer in September 2004. Her experience of the condition and its treatment, from diagnosis through mastectomy to recovery, is recounted in this down-to-earth memoir, covering everything from trialling Herceptin to what to wear that's stylish after surgery.
I have to declare a personal interest in this book as I was diagnosed at exactly the same time as Dina with the same disease. I followed her articles avidly every lunchtime in the G2 section of the Guardian called “”The Enemy Within” of which this book is a compilation. I was very sad to learn that despite all the private treatment, the specialist drugs, the best possible doctors and consultants the cancer came back after a mastectomy and all its horrors. She was convinced that having had her children early she would be immune to breast cancer but was unaware of her family history of this condition and that several female relatives had contracted it. That must have been devastating news to absorb during her treatment journey as she must have been hoping for a good outcome even though she’d put off seeing a doctor for three years when she first found the lump in her breast. It was visible and must have been uncomfortable so I find it odd that she left it for so long.
Anyway, this is a book about great courage, resilience, a journalistic desire to find out all the relevant facts and to travel abroad to try out other sources of treatment and expertise. She had great support from her extended family and community and didn’t let herself be constrained by the after effects of her mastectomy being able to drive soon afterwards for example. Such determination to beat this disease so it’s heartbreaking to find out that it took her in the end.
What can I say, except this book is stunning. Stunningly written, stunningly chilling, stunningly brave, stunningly moving, but not a shade of self-pity.
Another 3.5-star book. This is one of a sub-genre of memoirs -- the irreverent and sometimes incongruously funny description of a horrific life experience, e.g., "Devil in the Details," "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius," et al. It makes a hard topic easier to read about, although sometimes you wonder at what point it stops being in good taste. I raved about "Devil in the Details" to several therapist friends, who then read it and told me they didn't think it was funny at all -- they had clients who struggled with OCD, and did not appreciate the cynical humor. Thank G-d, I have no experience with breast cancer but I did start to wonder at certain points whether the humor was too much, or forced, or something. In fact, at one point her husband asks her how she's really doing with the cancer, given that she always seems so irreverent and not serious about it. The book got progressively less funny, which I suspect mirrored her experience with the cancer.
I give this author credit. Contrary to my theory that most memoirists are inherently narcissistic individuals, I believe Dina had a higher purpose in penning this memoir -- she wanted people to know what breast cancer is really like. There are things doctors will never tell you -- procedures whose pain and invasiveness is overlooked, and even practical concerns like how to dress and look normal after a mastectomy. Concerning the latter, Dina actually had an ingenious idea (her journalist connections helped, though) -- she called Vogue and requested to do an article on dressing after a mastectomy, which would require their sending a stylist to make over her wardrobe. This book taught me a lot about what the overall experience of breast cancer is like, and I probably wouldn't have otherwise known these things.
Dina's denial in the beginning was interesting, and it's tempting to criticize her behavior. Ayala had issues with the fact that she waited three years to have her tumor checked out, which might be why her outcome was so bleak (I believe she died, although the book cover didn't indicate that). I had issues with her reluctance to wean her two-year-old upon her diagnosis, even when her doctor informed her that her breastfeeding may be stimulating the cancer. Lady, it's a lot worse to lose your mother than to be weaned at age 2! On the other hand, I guess it's an authentic reflection of your mental state when you first hear news like this. Like I said, as the book progressed, the tone got more serious with the content.
The ending kind of left me hanging, but I guess that's appropriate under the circumstances.
Overall, this was an easy read, funny at times, tragic at times, and educational.