The aptly-titled Things I Wish I’d Known: Cancer Caregivers Speak Out, by Deborah J. Cornwall, is a welcome resource for those struggling to help the people they love who have cancer.

My grandmother, mother, father, and wife all had cancer. My mother was a caregiver for both her mother and my dad; I helped with all four. My parents and wife recovered, though my dad was housebound and disabled for the remaining nine years of his life. 

Cornwall, meanwhile, has had her own experiences with cancer. Her mother-in-law died of breast cancer at a young age, and the author herself was diagnosed with breast cancer 33 years to the day after her mother-in-law’s death. Cornwall recovered. Her experience, she says, including extensive volunteer and consulting work with the American Cancer Society, led her to write this book. She contacted and interviewed many caregivers of persons with cancer, and created this guide to help them.

Cornwall does a good job describing what caregivers, as well as patients, go through, and what one can do to stay afloat during the grueling process. The caregivers in her book mention a void after death — but there is also a void after a successful outcome. You spend all your time and energy in the fight to overcome cancer and it becomes your center. When that fight is done, you are left seeking a new center. The people in this book share ways to do that, and to commit to living life to the fullest. Hearing it in the voices of the caregivers themselves is particularly powerful.

After old age and dementia, cancer is the third leading reason for caregiving. To that end, Cornwall quotes Rosalyn Carter: “There are only four kinds of people in this world: Those who have been caregivers, those who are currently caregivers, those who will be caregivers, and those who will need caregivers.”  No two experiences are the same, either—I know this from my own caregiving, and Cornwall knows it, too. “There are over 100 different types of cancer that can arise in nearly any part of the body,” she writes. Even people with the same type of cancer getting the same treatment may react very differently.

What can make things especially hard for both the patient and the caregiver is that many of those with cancer had no history of the illness in their family, Cornwall reports. Being diagnosed with the disease seems to be some kind of random event that hits out of nowhere. The caregivers she interviews include children, spouses/domestic partners, relatives, siblings, and friends. Those with cancer range in age from two to 90, with 40 different types of cancer, and the different caregiving paths Cornwall writes about last from a short four days to a long 23 years. About half of the patients of the caregivers she interviews had a successful remission and went on to live a cancer-free life.

The book approaches the daunting, unpredictable task of caregiving in a step-by-step way, with each step clearly explained and most often in the words of caregivers themselves. It covers all aspects of the journey, beginning with getting a clear diagnosis, which may not be easy. Problems can occur because of symptoms, such as fatigue, being attributed to other causes. This can be especially true when the person has no family history of cancer and also does not have any behaviors associated with increased risk. Many of the patients in this book never smoked and had been athletic. Cancer was just not something anyone would suspect.

Cornwall also writes about the person who may have a rare cancer that local physicians have not seen before. At times, she tells us, caregivers had to work hard and really push to get a correct diagnosis. “Working through the diagnostic tests and waiting for results was the hardest part for many caregivers,” she writes.

The book also provides testimony from caregivers on how they gathered information to help make informed decisions about treatment. This is crucial. There may be times when the patient is so distraught that they have difficulty making those decisions and need someone they love and trust to help. Choosing your treatment team is crucial, and Cornwall goes into detail. There are many factors to consider: experience with the type of cancer and outcomes, the chemistry you have with the medical staff, whether to go with a local hospital or a major cancer center, whether to get second opinions, and whether it is time to change physicians. Every decision potentially has life or death consequences. As Cornwall writes, caregivers learn the ins and outs of the medical system including privacy issues, legal issues in decision making, and especially how to advocate in a way that will be heard among medical staff.

For those who need resources, Cornwall lists them extensively. She cites patient navigators in hospitals, as well as many websites that give information on such things as free lodging when a treatment center is far away from home. Financial issues are covered as well, including insurance, prescription drugs, employment, and important record keeping. Cornwall also talks about creating a healing environment. A person does not need to be defined by their cancer. She provides guidance about what to say and how to be when you are with people with cancer and those who care for them. Since cancer can strike at any age, there is an extensive section on children and cancer—both when children are the patient and when they are in the family of a person with cancer.

A very important and sometimes overlooked aspect of caregiving is taking care of oneself. Caregiving stress can potentially take as many as ten years off the life of a caregiver, according to a study at the University of California. The people Cornwall interviews speak of many ways to self care. They also share how they dealt with the aftermath of the cancer, regardless of the outcome. If your loved one dies, there is the void, the grief, and sometimes visions of the one lost. But, again, there is a void even if the outcome is that the patient is cancer-free.

No matter what, being a caregiver means going on a very rocky journey — and Cornwall’s book is a thoughtful and excellent travel guide. It will give you ideas of how to cope and how, even in the darkest most frightening moments, to find your way to grace and resilience.

Things I Wish I’d Known: Cancer Caregivers Speak Out
Bardolf & Company, October, 2012
Paperback, 258 pages
$19.95

Unfortunately, this is a common occurrence for those with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), and often becomes a vicious cycle. OCD isolates the sufferer, and this detachment from others, where the person suffering from OCD is left alone with nothing but his or her obsessions and compulsions, can exacerbate OCD.

In Dan’s case, many of his obsessions revolved around him causing harm to those he cares about. What better way to prevent this from happening than by avoiding friends and family? And this is exactly what he did. Even though in reality he could not even hurt a fly, in his mind the “safest” thing to do was to stay away from everyone. This is just one example of how OCD steals what’s most important to you.

Another common example is those OCD sufferers who have issues with germs. Avoiding any place or person that might carry germs (so pretty much everyone and everything) is about as isolating as you can get. Or maybe they are not even worried about getting sick themselves but rather are terrified they might contaminate others.

There are many other reasons why OCD sufferers might isolate themselves. Their compulsions might be so time-consuming that there is simply no time to interact with others; OCD has taken up every second of their lives. Or perhaps it is just too exhausting to be out in public, pretending everything is okay.

Let’s also not forget the stigma that is still associated with the disorder. Many with OCD live with the fear of being “found out.” How can they best prevent that from happening? Yup — they isolate themselves.

When someone is suffering deeply, whether it is with OCD, depression, or any illness, support from friends and family is crucial. Friends who reach out to the isolated person often are ignored, and after a while, they might stop trying.

This is what happened to Dan. I have no doubt his friends genuinely cared for him, but they didn’t realize the extent of his suffering, because Dan never let on. When their efforts to connect with him were rebuffed, they, not knowing what else to do, left him alone.

In some situations — college, for example — friends are the first ones to notice another friend’s isolation. Young people need to be made aware that withdrawal from others might be a serious cause for concern, and help should be sought.

OCD sufferers can isolate themselves from family as well. When Dan’s OCD was severe, we felt separated from him, even when he was living with us. He kept to himself and would not engage in conversation. He seemed as if he was in his own world, which in many ways he was: a world dictated by OCD. As difficult as it was to connect with him, our family never stopped trying, but it was mostly a one-sided effort. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that he couldn’t communicate with us, and it wasn’t our fault that we couldn’t get through to him. This insidious disease, OCD, was to blame.

While the Internet cannot take the place of face-to-face interaction, I do believe that social media sites have the potential to lessen the feelings of isolation that OCD sufferers feel. Connecting with others on forums, or even just reading about people who are suffering as they are, can help reduce loneliness, and in the best-case scenario, prompt those with OCD to seek appropriate help.

When those with OCD, or any mental illness, cut off those who care about them, they lose their lifeline. The support, encouragement and hope that are all so important for recovery no longer exists. I find this heartbreaking, as I truly believe the more we are pushed away, the more likely it is we are needed. This is something we should all be acutely aware of, and if we find ourselves or our loved ones becoming increasingly isolated, we should seek professional help immediately.

The book is divided into three contrasting sections. The first part is the author’s personal account of her psychic experiments, which developed seamlessly into psychosis without her noticing. The second part is her mother’s account of the author’s hospitalizations, and her denial and final acceptance of her mental illness. Part three contains sections from Jacobs’s diaries, written at the time of her psychosis, as well as clinical and legal documents relating to the same period.

Jacobs was born in Christchurch, New Zealand, in 1965. Throughout her childhood, though she had loving and close relationships with her parents and siblings, she was tormented in school about her weight. After leaving school, she worked in banking for several years, then traveled to Europe to broaden her experience. Recovering from a broken relationship, she enrolled in law school. After graduating in 2005, she set up independently as a family barrister.

Three years later, her business was thriving, yet Jacobs suddenly found herself pining for her deceased grandmother. The loss of her loved one led her to Don’t Kiss Them Goodbye, by psychic medium Allison Dubois. After reading the book, Jacobs began to feel her grandmother’s presence, and to notice other spiritual signs. Within months, she was experimenting with a crystal ball, in which she began to see images and words that were to have a profound influence on her life. It was only a short time before she began to hear the voices of her spirit guide, Wes, initially pleasant and helping her through life.

As time went by, Jacobs began to believe that many of the people around her were actually spirits that had passed over. She lost the ability to distinguish between fantasy and reality, yet somehow managed to get through her daily routine as a barrister. As she plunged deeper into psychosis, she spent more and more time communicating with her “spirit friends,” who included Heath Ledger, Princess Dianna, and Albert Einstein. Her world was now comprised of overlapping layers where real people and her imaginings were distinguishable only by their means of communication.

Then things took a turn for the worse. The author’s fragile world became overrun by demons, whom she believed were out to kill her. Less than a year later, the demons had become more than she could deal with and she sought treatment in hospital. It would take another 12 months before she could finally accept her illness and deny her demons. Happily, she is now able to live a peaceful life, and she continues to maintain her legal practice.

In contrast to the often terrifying flights of psychosis in the first chapters, Jacobs’s mother’s story is one of grief, guilt, and harrowing concern. Beginning with Kerry Jacobs’s first admission to hospital, Pam Jacob’s story is raw with emotion as she battles with her daughter’s reluctance to accept her illness, and a healthcare system that is not fulfilling its promises.

“I felt guilty most of the time because my heart sank every time she visited me,” Pam Jacobs writes, “and I knew that I would be on edge the whole time, watching her for obvious signs of psychosis.”

While Pam Jacobs tries on numerous occasions to help her daughter, Kerry Jacobs refuses to let her be involved in her care. The mother’s chapters fill in the gaps in her daughter’s memory from this time, recounting the trauma and failure of a range of medications. Finally, after 18 months of turmoil, Kerry Jacobs’s psychiatrist changes her medication and suddenly she began a symptom-free life.

Reading the book, I had to stop on several occasions to reflection my own experiences as both a sufferer of and caretaker for someone with bipolar disorder. I wish that I’d had this book during the time I was struggling to get my adolescent son’s symptoms stabilized. Learning about Jacobs’s most difficult periods of psychosis and her subsequent stable life and successful legal practice would certainly have given me strength. Readers with a connection to bipolar disorder will feel less isolated when they read Jacobs’s book.

From Psychic to Psychotic and Beyond: A true story about my bipolar disorder
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, December, 2012
Paperback, 188 pages
$9.95

While Leathers’s book strives to be a source of inspiration to those who have dealt with abuse in any form—and while it’s intriguing to follow Reb on her journey of self discovery and struggle—the lack of a structured story, lack of character development, and copious grammatical errors make this book a challenge to read.

Reb endures a childhood tainted with abuse from her oldest brother. That trauma haunts her well into her adult life, and she finds herself hard pressed to trust many of the people around her. Physical injuries from her brother cause her life to spiral downwards, and at 55 years old she finds herself begging god for a do-over. Then, the morning after her prayers, she wakes up to find herself in her 4-year-old body with her 55-year-old brain. Through her new life, she makes substantial changes and learns lessons about what is truly important.

It’s clear that Do Over is about the lessons that Leathers learned as she grew up and got past her own trauma. While the character Reb does grow and progress, the book is unfortunately written such that the story and the characters fail to connect emotionally with the reader. It is difficult to be convinced or drawn in simply by a rote description of a character’s personality traits, struggles, or experiences. But Leathers almost mechanically lists off what Reb’s personality is like and how she feels in certain situations. After reading the book the reader knows how Reb sees herself, but isn’t able to get the feeling of what Reb says or how she acts when interacting with others. In other words, Reb remains two-dimensional, despite the author’s attempts to describe her.

Leathers’s writing is also very disjointed and in need of editing. Blatant grammatical errors aside, the lack of structure in Do Over makes it very hard to follow. The first ten pages are spent on what different parts of Maine are like. Certain characters are named and never mentioned again, while Reb’s son, an integral part of the character’s life, isn’t mentioned by name until the story is half over. Some parts of Reb’s tale are repeated, and some situations are not explained in a way that allows the reader to understand Reb’s mindset or motives.

Do Over also focuses heavily on religion and god, illustrating the role that both play in Reb’s recovery. As with the rest of the book, though, there’s a disconnect between what the author tells us and what we, the reader, feel. We’re told that Reb gets a lot of peace from religion, but we don’t get a real sense of how it works for her. The reader knows that Reb likes to sing for her church choir, but there’s no story or experiences that are shared to help us understand Reb’s emotions as she sings her songs of worship or attends church. As a writing instructor would point out, Leathers tells instead of shows.

Still, the author is able to convey some important ideas through Reb. As an advocate for children going through the welfare system, I found that Leathers’s book gave me a glimpse into what these children have to face as they get older. Reb’s character illustrates how small obstacles can be exacerbated by childhood trauma. Her lifelong struggle to get past what happened to her and live a normal life helped me realize the importance of early intervention and how necessary it is to get the kids I work with into stable, loving homes.

Ultimately, though, the lack of structure, character development, and quality editing keep the reader from connecting with the characters and the story in a meaningful way. While I personally applaud Leathers for her struggle to overcome her trauma and her success in moving on to appreciate what matters in life, I cannot recommend Do Over.

Do Over
Xlibris, September, 2012
Paperback, 270 pages
$19.99 

This was a part of the plea written by Geneva Paulson to two state senators, one representative, and the State Attorney General for help in getting her son, Randy, out of the grips of the First Christian Fellowship cult. By the time Paulson wrote that letter, Randy had been involved in the group for more than three years. Paulson watched her son go from a bright, outgoing, and cheerful man to a withdrawn character with a “zombie-like personality.”

Paulson is a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, nurse, and author of Rescuing Randy: A Family Determined to Rescue Their Son from a Cult. She and her husband, Roger, own a small farm in Minnesota. They raised their children to be Christians and were devout in their faith. After experiencing the trauma, drama, and heartache of having a son sucked into a cult and rescuing him from that situation, Paulson says, she decided to write a memoir. Her hope is that readers will be “informed about cults and the way they operate.”

Personally, I came to her book with my own set of experiences. Having been in the grips of a cult myself, I appreciated Paulson’s perspective a great deal. However, her writing has some significant shortcomings that detract from the read.

Paulson tells us how Randy was in his youth: “witty, loving to laugh, and he could never keep a secret.” He helped his father with maintaining the dairy farm and was a good student. The summer after his junior year in high school, Randy decided to enlist in a delayed-entry program with the Navy. Like many young adults, when he moved out of his parents’ home, he participated in partying and what Paulson refers to as “bending our family rules of conduct.” He confessed that he was in a dark place in his life and suffering spiritually.

However, things took a much more dramatic twist than his parents could have expected. After his training in the Navy, Randy found a church that offered fellowship and that made him feel what he believed was the forgiveness and comfort of god. When he talked about the church, Paulson writes, Randy was excited and euphoric. He then dropped a bombshell on his parents: He had been baptized there “in the name of Jesus like the book of Acts tells us to do.”

To some, this may not seem like a problem. But to the Paulsons, this was a blow, as their son had already been baptized according to their own faith. They had striven to teach Randy about God, Christ, and the Holy Spirit.

Over the next few years, Paulson and her husband began to realize that their son was slipping away. He began to withdraw from the family. He moved into a house that was specifically for the “brothers” of the First Christian Fellowship Church. He gave most of the money he earned directly to the church. When he would speak on the phone with his parents, they were constantly put on hold and would spend minutes waiting for him to return. Although it took the Paulsons a while to pinpoint the problem with Randy’s behavior, they finally realized that their son was in a cult.

They decided that they would stage an intervention and deprogramming for Randy. In her book, Paulson chronicles the various steps they took in the planning process. They were very thorough in their research; they contacted numerous people to gather information about the First Christian Fellowship Church and information on how to complete a successful deprogramming. An elaborate scheme got Randy, a deprogramming counselor, and his assistant to the “safe house,” a cabin deep in a remote area. Paulson kept a journal during their weeklong stay in the house and took notes on Randy’s behavior and responses. She describes her thoughts and feelings during this heartbreaking process of watching her son “snap.”

“Snapping is an unmistakably traumatic experience when a sudden exchange comes in a moment of intense experience that is not so much a peak as a precipice,” Paulson writes. “It is an unforeseen break in the continuity of awareness that may leave the cultist detached, withdrawn, disoriented, and utterly confused.” Paulson rounds out her memoir with a recounting of Randy’s struggles to acclimate to life outside the group, and his ultimate success in life, both personal and spiritual.

Fortunately, when I found myself sucked into a cult around Randy’s age, I was not nearly as tied up in it as he was. But I did experience something that is now interesting to read about from an outside perspective, like the one Paulson gives. For me, her account was touching and enlightening. And for people who may find themselves with a loved one who’s trapped, Paulson’s book could provide some ideas for planning an intervention.

Her writing, however, leaves something to be desired. The rhythm was choppy at times, and there were stories and memories that seemed out of place. The last third of the book felt disconnected in ways, and didn’t really flow well from the first two thirds.

Also, for readers who do not consider themselves particularly religious or spiritual, Paulson’s tone and phrases may come off rather preachy. I deeply respect her religious beliefs but I do think that some readers may be put off by her many Christian references. 

Finally, although Paulson mentions various studies and reports, the bibliography is severely lacking. I would have appreciated having the names of those studies for future reference.

Overall, Paulson has still created a good resource for those who are struggling with someone in a cult. And for those of us who have personally escaped one, her book is worth a read.

Rescuing Randy: A Family Determined to Rescue Their Son from a Cult
WestBow Press, October, 2012
Paperback, 198 pages

However, after reading Melissa Francis’s memoir, Diary of a Stage Mother’s Daughter, I believe Mommy Dearest may have met her match in Francis’s mother.

Francis’s career as an actress started when she was barely a toddler. From that point forward, she writes, much of her time was spent rushed to auditions, memorizing lines, and shooting commercials and TV shows. Francis made her mark on television when she landed the role as Cassandra on the popular show Little House on the Prairie. In her memoir, she relates stories and memories from her time on sets with great clarity. What is most impressive is her ability to capture the thought processes that she had in various moments, as well as her childhood innocence and naivety.

However, the real story in this book is the outrageousness of her mother. Unpredictable at best, Francis’s mother was at times sweet and spoiling while at other times downright devious and frightening. It quickly becomes apparent that the sweet and spoiling side of this Mother Dearest came when she needed Melissa to act the part in a commercial or television episode.

When she wanted something from her daughters, she was not afraid to use bribery. But the second someone crossed her, they were punished, and she doled out these punishments in a variety of formats. It could be scathing words, being locked out of the house in only a bra and jeans, being shoved out of the car to walk home—even being pushed down the stairs. The author or her older sister, Tiffany, experienced each at various times.

One of the best examples of how this behavior reached out beyond the family involved another family in the Francis’s neighborhood. The Parkers lived a few doors away, and reported the Francis family to animal control due to feral cats in the area. Animal control picked up the Francis family dog, KC. The author’s mother decided to have revenge. She drove to the Parker household and returned home a while later. When the author confronted her, she saw that her mother had taken the Parker’s dog’s collar. Her mother replied, “It’s Coco’s. The Parkers’ dog. I took her in my car, and drove her out to the pound in Simi Valley. And I turned her in. A lost dog. Like KC.”

The weight of this was not lost on Francis: Since Coco did not have her collar, and the pound that she was dropped off at was far from their home, the Parkers would never find their pet. “Mom had effectively murdered our neighbors’ dog,” she writes.

As the years roll by, the impact of her mother’s behavior becomes more apparent. Tiffany leaves for college and continues a destructive path that started when she was a teenager. She uses alcohol and drugs and, unfortunately, 16-year-old Francis, our memoirist, is a witness to this behavior. Mother Francis continues with her antics after Tiffany leaves the house, but now, rather than sharing that burden with Tiffany, the author is left to fend for herself.

She begins planning her escape from the home, plotting a way to get to Stanford summer school. At this point, you may be wondering where the author’s father is. He was there, but just barely, Francis tells us. Rather than assist in the dramatics and try to curb the chaos, he hid away in his study or at work, avoiding the wrath of his wife and laughing it off as though it were a minor flaw.

The family could not turn a blind eye to Mother Francis’s behavior forever, though. After the author got married, her sister Tiffany’s health took a serious turn. Her pancreas had been destroyed by her drug and alcohol abuse, which was only discovered after a couple rounds of rehab. The problem seemed to awaken Father Francis from his stupor, and he immediately took action to take care of Tiffany. Mother Francis, on the other hand, seemed to find Tiffany’s condition more of an inconvenience than something to be truly worried about. After one of Tiffany’s nights in the hospital, the author recalls, the two sisters were talking in the car. Tiffany wiped tears from her eyes and said,

“You know, I was lying in the hospital last time and in the middle of the night I was just in so much pain. And… so scared. All I could think was, it would be so nice to have a mom.”

This seems to be the final straw for Francis. She confronts her mother and ends the conversation with these words: “All the craziness. It ends with me. I swear it, once and for all. One way or the other. It’s your choice how it ends. But it ends with me.”

Such a powerful moment in the book: I silently cheered and presented Francis with a standing ovation.

And Francis’s book is worth cheering for, too. I absolutely love reading memoirs. When an author writes one with raw honesty, great style, and a narrative that holds you every second, she creates a real treasure. Francis’s is a great example — I could not put it down. At times, I wanted to reach in and comfort young Melissa and Tiffany. Other times, I wanted to reach in and teach Mother Francis a lesson or two. All in all, Diary of a Stage Mother’s Daughter is a solid, gripping read.

Diary of a Stage Mother’s Daughter
Weinstein Books, November, 2012
Hardcover, 304 pages
$26

Such was the case for Christal Presley, author ofThirty Days with My Father: Finding Peace from Wartime PTSD. Presley’s book chronicles the 30 days in 2009 that she spent talking with her father in an attempt to heal and recover their relationship, years after her grueling childhood. Her memoir gives not only a detailed account of the ripple effects of PTSD on children, but also an inside look at the recovery of a father and grown daughter.

Delmer Presley served during the Vietnam War and returned home a changed man. Riddled with nightmares, flashbacks, and suicidal thoughts, he was often an unpredictable father. Christal Presley writes that bad memories of her father’s outbursts taint her thoughts of childhood. She has many memories of her father grabbing his gun and leaving the house. Presley describes the upsetting experience:  “A man on a mission, his rifle cradled against his chest like an infant and his pupils so dilated you could hardly see the whites of his eyes, he would march back through the house and out the door, but not before uttering a single sentence: ‘I’m going to the river to kill myself.’”

The author’s mother was of little comfort to her. She would tell Presley that if she prayed and was good, god would help them. Over time, Presley began to resent her mother and build up a hatred toward her father. No one outside of their family knew what was going on, though—Presley became very skilled at acting happy and putting a smile on her face, especially when they were at church. But her father’s behavior was damaging.

Presley left home at 18, and spoke to her father very infrequently over the following 13 years. Then, in 2009, while Presley was at a writing workshop, a speaker asked, “What if you wrote about the thing you fear most?” After Presley had struggled with her own happiness for years, never quite dealing with her childhood or father, she thought that perhaps getting to know her dad and learning more about his experience in the war would help her. And she decides to embark on a 30-day, therapeutic conversation.

Toward the beginning of the book, Presley conveys her strong apprehension and anxiety. On the first day of what is supposed to be the 30-day period, her father retracts his agreement to participate in the project. Presley hangs up on him. This is not likely the way she wanted to start the process.

In day seven, Presley has an interesting revelation during a conversation with her therapist. She says that she is conducting the project to get to know her father, and her therapist responds, “There are many ways to get to know a person. And many ways to forgive him.” Although Presley thought she had already forgiven her father, she writes, she begins to question whether she truly had.

Over the course of the 30 days, happier memories begin to break through the surface as Presley and her father trudge along together. They begin to realize how many things they have in common, aside from both experiencing PTSD. For instance, Delmer relates to his daughter that his guitar is his main therapeutic tool. Playing the instrument calms his nerves, makes him feel at peace, and makes him feel good about himself, he tells her. Presley’s tool, meanwhile, is her writing, which makes her feel the same things that her father feels when he plays guitar.

On the last day of the project, the author returns to her parents’ home for Christmas. Rather than being struck with flashbacks as she was accustomed to, she recalls a memory from when she was five: being in a school play and running and leaping into her father’s arms at the end. She recalls how happy she was and how proud she was that he was her dad. “There was a time before, a time I thought I’d lost,” she writes. “It’s coming back.”

Presley has a wonderful written voice. She is articulate, emotional without being overly dramatic, and insightful. She weaves her story with such clarity that it is easy to get lost in her rhythm and words. I found myself wanting to cheer for her and her father as their relationship progressed. She also shares stories of talking with veterans at VA hospitals, which are at times both heartwarming and heartbreaking. They carry a strong message, too: that veterans continue to need support. As for Presley’s own journey, I wish only that she had continued the story a bit longer, just so I could know how her relationship with her father is today.

Thirty Days With My Father: Finding Peace from Wartime PTSD
Health Communications, Inc., November, 2012
Paperback, 264 pages
$14.95 

Kakonge says that the book contains her “own babble through sixteen breakdowns over a five and a half year period.” The memoir is broken into small chapters, each offering a brief glimpse into the author’s life.

Through these diary-like musings, we witness the daily struggles of a young woman who experiences a variety of symptoms of mental illness. Kakonge discusses her numerous trips to psychiatric wards and the multitude of diagnoses bestowed upon her during these visits. In addition, she discusses the continuing struggle that she has had with whether or not to take psychotropic medication.

Memoirs may seem like they are a dime a dozen nowadays. What is worthwhile about this one is that the author does not allow her mental illness to prevent her from chasing her dream of becoming a journalist, even traveling from Canada to Africa in pursuit of a fulfilling career. All the while, the symptoms of mental illness continue to interfere. Yet Kakonge’s enduring will to succeed keeps the reader rooting for her success.

Kakonge also does an excellent job of drawing the reader into her reality during periods of psychosis. She does not sensationalize her situation; rather she describes her at times bizarre thoughts with a refreshing amount of frankness. For example, in the book’s opening she states:

“The security guard outside the door keeps looking at me strangely…Doesn’t he understand? This is a national emergency. I have to get out of this room because the women are coming to get me. Princess Diana, Oprah Winfrey, Princess Toro…are coming to get me to join their group.”

Kakonge does not attempt to psychoanalyze herself and figure out why she had such beliefs at that point in her life. Nor does she pass any type of judgment on herself. She simply lays her truth bare and allows the reader to come to his or her own conclusions.

In my own work as a counselor, I have facilitated writing groups for individuals with a variety of psychiatric diagnoses. Through this work I have seen the difficulties that can arise when one attempts to write about periods of mental distress. Oftentimes, writers are either hesitant to recall such memories, or unable to accurately remember the details of particularly stressful situations.

Knowing this makes Kakonge’s work even more impressive. I do not know whether she wrote this account strictly from memory or if she kept a journal during the time period she writes about. Either way, the detailed narrative of How to Talk to Crazy People offers an exceptional depiction of an individual’s struggle with mental illness.

The biggest fault I found in this work is its brevity: The book seems to just scratch the surface of Kakonge’s experience. It would be interesting to learn more about the author’s current thoughts as she recalls these tumultuous periods in her life, as well as to hear more about how she was able to overcome her mental health issues and find her voice as a writer.

Anybody who is looking to read an inspiring memoir about mental illness should check out How to Talk to Crazy People. This slim volume provides the reader with an honest portrayal of what it is like to live with psychiatric symptoms. Kakonge is refreshingly open. The reader comes away with not only a better understanding of mental illness, but also with a sense of encouragement from the author’s remarkable journey.

How to Talk to Crazy People
Life Rattle Press, 2012
Kindle edition, 88 pages
$20

When Paul Gruchow first started putting Letters to a Young Madman together, he wondered how his disjointed journal entries, quotes, and medical research could work to create something coherent and meaningful. Though every entry contains a different experience, a different thought, a quote that Gruchow could relate to, any reader of this book is able to clearly understand the message that Gruchow is sending.

“To assume sickness as a career, of course, is to resume the role of a child.”

Gruchow communicates with incredible transparency how depression feels. He allows readers to feel his abyss and to empathize with the feeling of waking up in the morning paralyzed and unable to get out of bed for days at a time. He helps the reader understand what it feels like to lose one’s self worth after being put on disability and being defined by what one is unable to do. The reader plunges down with Gruchow, departing from a life in academia and family ties and entering a life spent in a garage and trying to take solace in the fact that it’s not a mental health facility.

“I have been treated by six psychiatrists and by six psychologists. The psychiatrists have all believed that my problem was organic. The psychologists have all believed that my problem was behavior. We see what we are trained to see.”

Gruchow gives a vivid view of problems with our mental health system. He shows exactly where the various treatments and medications he was prescribed failed in their ability to help him recover. He’s able to show through his research that over the course of mental health care history, nothing has really helped, and what we have now isn’t much different. In one entry, he writes that every new treatment is said to experience a 70-80 percent success rate when it first emerges on the market. After a period of time, these treatments lose popularity as people discover they don’t actually work. A new treatment comes out with a high percentage of success to erase the preceding treatment from the market.

“I don’t think we’ll have a truly successful mental health system until the mentally ill become genuine partners in their own healing, and the only way to do that is to make them healers, rather than merely objects of healing.”

Though the book is more of a narrative of Gruchow’s experiences, the author also writes about what he believes may have been able to help him. He bares his unsettling experiences and tells his story in a way that allows the reader to not only understand, but empathize. And that story, though disjointed, leaves no gaps or questions as to what Gruchow was feeling at the time or why.

As a student of psychology, I was struck by how different the patient perspective is from the practitioner perspective when it comes to mental health care. Reading Letters to a Young Madman was an eye-opening experience for me, and gave me some much-needed insight into what we need to change if we really want to help our patients.

More than empathy, Gruchow’s book left me with a clearer idea of what I can do for someone who is going through an episode of depression. Being able to get a glimpse into the mindset of a friend or relative who is suffering from depression can be infinitely beneficial for someone who wants to help but has no idea how to do it.

Letters to a Young Madman can allow professionals in the mental health system to truly see their patients and do more to help. If read widely enough, the book could help ease the stigmas surrounding those with depression.

Letters to a Young Madman: A Memoir
Levins Publishing, September, 2012
Paperback, 209 pages
$14.99

The Boy On The Lake: He Faced Down the Biggest Bully of His Life and Inspired Trevor’s Law tells the true story of Trevor Smith Schaefer, his fight to survive cancer, and his determination to find answers concerning the much higher than average rate of childhood cancer around the town of McCall. Penned by writer Susan Rosser with help from Trevor and his mother, Charlie Smith, the book chronicles the the pair’s battles with disease, with an emotionally abusive father and husband, and, finally, with the government’s lack of attention to environment problems.

When her twelve-year-old son’s malignant medullablastoma was discovered, Charlie Smith was trying to deal with a divorce. During Trevor’s surgery and chemotherapy, the author tells us, Charlie felt she practically lived in the hospital’s cancer unit. As she got to know the other mothers and cancer patients, she developed a sinking feeling that something wasn’t quite right in her town. She began her search to find out why so many children in the area were suffering from cancer. Through extensive research, good friends, nerves of steel, and the drive and optimism to keep going, Charlie came across shocking information about McCall and the surrounding area. The beautiful place she called home was actually a chemical cocktail, and the government seemed less than willing to help.

Along with the cancer, Trevor had to fight off a bully who should have been his most steady support through the whole ordeal: his own father. Ballard Smith was there for his son only when it was convenient, and often stood him up as he suffered through the effects of chemotherapy. Ballard’s lack of emotional support eventually led to emotional abuse, in the form of ridicule for walking funny (an effect of the chemo). Charlie and Trevor were finally able to escape from Ballard’s emotional abuse and control issues to team up for their next obstacle.

Once Trevor had beaten cancer, he and his mother embarked on a mission to raise awareness of the chemicals that infest many towns, with the goal of making the government do something about them. Through years of research, networking with the right people, and the unwavering courage to face down the people who attempted to belittle their quest, Charlie and Trevor were able to make extensive progress in discovering the secrets their town held. The calls began pouring in from all over the country from those suffering in towns like McCall, and Trevor’s Law was born.

The law, if passed, would direct federal funds to areas where the cancer level is particularly high among children so that testing can be done to find possible environmental influences. To help create the law, Trevor and Charlie worked to gain the backing of politicians in Idaho, including numerous state senators. They also worked with parents of children with cancer, people in other cancer clusters across the country, and even the famous Erin Brockovich. Their message gained momentum, eventually leading Trevor to Washington, D.C., to encourage lawmakers to support Trevor’s Law. While there, he pleaded with Congress to see that more effort needs to be made to figure out what’s going on in areas with high childhood cancer rates.

It must have taken Trevor and Charlie tremendous amounts of optimism and courage to not only get through cancer but then campaign to help others with similar problems. Trevor faced the prospect of death before he had the chance to become an adult, yet managed to turn his experience into something positive — something that still may affect the entire country. Charlie, meanwhile, helped the cause even at a time when her family life was falling apart. This perseverance, shown by both mother and son, makes “The Boy on the Lake” an inspiring read.

The Boy On The Lake: He Faced Down the Biggest Bully of His Life and Inspired Trevor’s Law
Morgan James Publishing, October, 2012
Paperback, 300 pages
$21.95

Hopping Roller Coasters is not one of these stories.

Not at all.

Rachel Pappas wrote Hopping Roller Coasters to explore the relationship between her and her daughter, Marina. Getting pregnant was difficult for Pappas, and Marina, in some ways, was her miracle baby. In Hopping Roller Coasters, Pappas outlines the trials and triumphs in the first 20 years of Marina’s life. She honestly describes her own rages and outbursts, many that were directed at Marina. Her description of these events is at times frightening and astonishing. (There is one incident where she screams at six-year-old Marina in front of one of Marina’s friends. Marina is so terrified that she begins begging her friend to get her mother to stop screaming.) However, although Pappas seems quite honest about certain things, her memoir does not contain enough introspection or detail to make it a compelling read.

Pappas is clear that she sought help over the years from different mental health professionals and tried numerous medicines to curb her anger and outbursts. But she was not the only one dealing with internal struggles. Starting around her preschool years, Marina began behaving in ways that concerned teachers. For instance, her teachers repeatedly called Pappas to express concerns that Marina had a hearing issue. They would tell Marina things over and over again, and she still would not follow instructions. After several years of teachers’ concerns and after having Marina’s hearing tested several times, Pappas finally gets an explanation from a specialist: Marina has a sensory condition. If surrounded by many noises or sights, Marina’s sensory perception essentially shuts down. Marina would hear everything that was said to her but would not actually process the information.

As Marina entered pre-adolescence, her struggles escalated. Not only was she struggling with her sensory condition, but her emotional stability also began to waver. She started having outbursts similar to her mother’s, and their relationship became a walk on a tight rope. Pappas and her daughter battled at home every day. As their relationship grew tenser and Marina’s internal struggles increased, she placed greater walls around herself. She also began acting out in school and dabbled in self-mutilation. At 16, in a therapy session, Marina finally breaks down her walls and reminds her mother of a time when she told a four-year-old Marina that she had cancer. “Why did you used to say that to me?” she screams at Pappas.

Pappas, meanwhile, is fighting with teachers, therapists, and administrators. Many times, she tells us, she felt as though she was the only one looking out for her daughter and attempting to find a solution. Although some people offered them, the author tells us, it often seemed as though their “fixes” entailed addressing Marina as a bad child.

After years of seeing therapists, adjusting Marina’s meds, and putting Marina in various facilities, Pappas and her husband finally send their daughter to a Catholic boarding school for troubled girls. Thankfully, Marina finds her place there and begins to make the journey out of the dark hole she has been in for years. Pappas tells us that one of the proudest moments in her life was watching her daughter graduate from high school.

The book rounds out with Pappas describing the shift in their relationship as Marina enters young adulthood. Unfortunately, the positive change is overshadowed when Pappas is diagnosed with breast cancer. Marina becomes a self-reliant adult and Pappas learns to allow her daughter the independence and freedom she craves. As Pappas becomes more involved with fundraising for breast cancer awareness, she learns that her father is slowly dying of cancer and her mother is sick as well. However, she still is somehow able to see a light at the end of the tunnel and, at times, her positivity is surprising.

As a mother, I’m always interested in reading the stories of other parents. However, despite my high hopes for the book, I found myself constantly struggling to get wrapped up in Pappas’s memoir. It is possible that a reader who has had similar struggles — perhaps one who has raised a child diagnosed as clinically depressed or who has herself received a diagnosis of bipolar disorder — might find it easier to get into the story. Unfortunately, I found it to plod along. I wanted more details, more descriptions of how the author felt during dramatic moments.

For instance, there is a scene in which Pappas is called to the school yet again and finds that Marina is being challenged to unveil what is in her pockets. After Pappas orders her daughter to acquiesce, Marina bolts from the room. Although Pappas explains to some extent her emotional turmoil, her description seems to be lacking something, some kind of “oomph.” Perhaps that is because by this particular scene, these outbursts are not uncommon and Marina’s attempts to run away are not that uncommon either. In fact, later in the scene, Pappas is recognized by a paramedic from the last time Marina bolted from school.

Another issue throughout the book is the treatment of Marina. To be fair, the author suffers much with her own personal struggles. However, I have to wonder how many of Marina’s issues are really disorders, or if her behavior was learned from the treatment her mother gave her at a young age. How many rages did she witness during developmental years that formed her own response patterns? This was one of the thoughts that I found myself constantly returning to throughout Hopping Roller Coasters.

Still, Pappas’s memoir does have a place on the shelves. An account of the problems she and her daughter have faced may prove invaluable to those who have had similar experiences. I would not recommend this book to most readers, but it could perhaps shine a light of hope for a few.

Hopping Roller Coasters
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, August, 2012
Paperback, 286 pages
$12.95 

Kevin Roberts, in his book Movers, Dreamers, and Risk-Takers: Unlocking the Power of ADHD, posits that this negative attitude toward people he affectionately calls “ADHD-ers” is part of the problem. He believes that changing the way society, educators, and parents approach ADHD would go a long way to help ensure ADHD-affected kids do better in school and in life. He points out that people with this disability tend to be considerably more creative, goal-oriented, and out-going than those of us without ADHD. And he recommends how those affected by the disorder can adapt to it on a daily basis.

As a writer, Roberts is engaging; as a comedian, he is able to laugh at himself and keep the book light-hearted and upbeat. As a life coach, ADHD counselor, and ADHD patient, he demonstrates that he has the professional and personal experience to speak from a position of authority on the subject. This combination of personal and professional experience, positivity, and humor makes his book an irresistible read.

Roberts begins by giving his and his family’s history of ADHD. The book is interspersed with his personal story, stories of his clients, and techniques he has used to help kids better manage their schedules and homework. He cites several studies to back up some of his claims about the roots of ADHD and its attributes. But what seems to me most refreshing about the book is that Roberts chooses to look at the positive side of ADHD. 

The author maintains that people with ADHD are not “unteachable” or “difficult.” They simply think differently—and this difference needs to be accounted for. Personally, I find that this makes complete sense. No one would expect a physically disabled child to move just like other kids or work exactly like his or her able-bodied classmates. So why in the world are we expecting kids and adults with learning disabilities to think like everyone else?

To drive home his point about how “ADHD-ers” think differently, Roberts offers examples from his clients. He gives a synopsis of each client’s issue and illustrates how he helped them overcome their “road block” in that area. In another section, he gives several study, work, and organization tips tailored to people with ADHD. One of them is to “get physical.” Move around when studying, typing a work report, or doing another work or school-related activity, he suggests. This, he says, will avert boredom and help an ADHD-er stay focused.

Due to Roberts’s light-hearted and positive approach, his book is an easy, fun, and interesting read. I suspect it will help many people who have ADHD themselves, love someone who has it, or work in education.

Movers, Dreamers, and Risk-Takers: Unlocking the Power of ADHD
Hazelden, June, 2012
Paperback, 250 pages
$14.95 

Given my relationship with a woman experiencing the disorder, Jane Thompsonʼs Reboot: A Novel of Bipolar Disorder resonated quite strongly with me. Thompsonʼs book offers a fictional but true-to-life account, with her writing clearly based on her own struggle with the illness.

What struck me most is how Thompson reveals, in detail, the importance of what took me years to learn: that, due to the very nature of bipolar disorder, the person who is bipolar does not recognize this and may often forget or highly distort what happens in their manic state. In their euphoria they may imagine and remember, quite incorrectly, that everything was oh-so-wonderful, which is often quite far from the case. Particularly for an adult with bipolar disorder, recognizing the illness is a key step in the possibility of regaining stability and mental health. Without this recognition, an adult with bipolar disorder may quit taking medication, not prepare for the next manic episode, or put themselves and others at risk.

In the beginning, we find this lack of recognition in Marie, the protagonist suffering from the disorder and whose story parallels the authorʼs (and my girlfriendʼs). Marie misses appointments, remembers meetings cancelled when in fact, they had not been, and loses friends who seem standoffish to her. Before her treatment, she only dimly understands why her actions are irrational, rude, or possibly hypersexual. 

What makes Thompsonʼs book so fascinating and hopeful is the contrast between Mariaʼs lack of understanding before she realizes that she is bipolar and her later recognition of what was more likely going on when she finds a medication that works for her.

“Reboot” details another important facet of bipolar disorder. While it is defined as a psychiatric mood disorder with disruptive mood swings, characterized by one or more episodes of abnormally high energy levels, accompanied by racing thoughts and euphoria, with or without depressive episodes, no one truly knows what causes it and what can stop it. Treatment and medication are thus experimental. In the book, Marie takes several different medications with no apparent effect. After reporting this to her physicians, she is told that the medications will eventually work, or that she doesnʼt realize that they are indeed working.

Thompsonʼs novel also correctly illustrates the dangerous side-effects of these medications. Marie is advised to take Haloperidol, which could lead to tardive dyskinesia, i.e., involuntary repetitive body movements, and is told incorrectly that she is not old enough to develop the symptoms. My own reading of the dangers of such medications had me worry when my girlfriend Elle, at about the same age, temporarily developed a habitual puckering and pursing of her lips after taking the many medications, including Haloperidol, that she was prescribed. For both Marie, in the novel, and Elle, in my own life, therapy is trial and error. One hopes to find a treatment or medication that works.

Without giving away the bookʼs lovely ending: Marie finally finds a drug that works for her. As her moods stabilize, so does her life. She gets a significant raise at her job of several years, makes friends, and begins to enjoy going out. She starts to feel appreciated for who she is, and is happy.

I wiped tears from my eyes and broke out laughing several times as I read “Reboot.” For those of us who are close to someone suffering from bipolar disorder, this book means a lot.

Reboot: A Novel of Bipolar Disorder
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, June, 2012
Paperback, 264 pages
$15 

Once I learned the initial basic stitches, I was hooked (pun intended). I spent hours in my dorm room crocheting scarves or just crocheting a single stitch over and over. I would go into a completely meditative state and even if there was music or a TV on in the background, I never really absorbed what I was hearing. Now, many years later, crochet is my go-to therapy. In moments of stress and anxiety, my fingers begin to itch for the feel of the hook in one hand and the yarn in the other.

Kathryn Vercillo has written a book that accurately describes that experience and the experience that many others go through when turning to crochet for comfort or relief. Crochet Saved My Life looks deep into the healing power of crochet, knitting, and other needlecraft work, both mentally and physically. Vercillo is a freelance writer, blogger, and crafter whose experience with depression and the relief she found in crochet inspired the book. In it, she describes how she summoned up the strength to drop the knife she once held at her wrist and replace it with a spool of yarn.

In addition to telling her own story, Vercillo tells the tales of many women and men who have found comfort, peace, and solace in the craft. Her book is separated into sections that address the affects of crocheting/knitting on various mental and physical conditions. In addition to the main chapters are the full stories of people she interviewed for the book, including their personal struggles and how crocheting or knitting came to be a part of their recovery or treatment. Her subjects have been through depression, anxiety, OCD, schizophrenia, multiple sclerosis, and Menière’s disease. In her discussion of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Vercillo refers to Monique Lang, LCSW. Lang’s quote sums up the chapter on PTSD: “When life has done something that treats you horribly, you need to go overboard in treating yourself well to make up for that while you are healing.”

The author’s introduction is poignant. “Crochet can serve as a form of meditation,” she writes. “It provides you with a focused task that distracts you from the drama that sometimes takes over the brain and tries to wreak havoc there. And it allows you to feel like you are producing and creating something even when you can’t get out of bed and you can barely open your eyes to notice the passing of one day into another.”

But Vercillo is careful to point out that crochet is not a cure-all, nor the only method to combat a mental or physical condition. When discussing the calming effects crochet may have on symptoms of schizophrenia, she points out that the evidence she has to support her claim is minimal and relies heavily on stories shared by interviewees. She reminds us many times that she is not a medical professional in any capacity. She is simply sharing an experience that she has had and that many others seem to have in common. Still, Vercillo does not just use anecdotes to support her claim: Her list of references is substantial and included at the end of the book, with sources ranging from journal articles to governmental documents.

The back of the book also provides a list of resources for crocheters. There are online communities, classes, and professional organizations, interesting websites that discuss crocheting/knitting in relation to various conditions, and recommended books.

My one complaint about the text is the sections describing the individual tales of the interviewees. Although these histories are important for filling in gaps and clarifying how crochet or knit played into these people’s lives, Vercillo shares so much of the details within the main chapters that the individual sections dedicated to them feel redundant. I grew tired of rereading these people’s stories when I had just read them only a few pages prior. At times, they seemed like page fillers rather than informative parts of the book.

Overall, though, Crochet Saved My Life is a worthwhile read. As an avid crafter and crocheter, I found the book at times enlightening, and could relate to much of it. Vercillo’s ability to weave statistics and reports into her narrative is also impressive. Her tone is friendly and sensitive while also being professional and direct—she does not sugar-coat or play down the intensity that can be found within each individual condition she addresses. Nor does she attempt to trump modern medicine or therapy with the value of needlework.

The author’s message, simple as it may be, is that the meditative power of crochet and knit could potentially bring a wealth of comfort and clarity to the suffering and the stressed. I, for one, could not agree more.

Crochet Saved My Life
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, April, 2012
Paperback, 304 pages
$17.95

In Saving Each Other: A Mother-Daughter Love Story, Victoria Jackson and her daughter, Ali Guthy, tell the story of a child stricken with a deadly disease and a mother who fights best when the odds are the worst. Alternating mother/daughter commentary chronicles the fight against Ali’s rare diagnosis of the autoimmune disease NMO, or Neuromyelitis Optica. Due to their unusual status, the pair weaves a tale that is at once hopeful and utterly alien to most readers.

Victoria Jackson fought her way from a violent childhood to all the joy and promise that her life as a half-billion-dollar makeup maven allows — especially after she married Bill Guthy of Guthy-Renker infomercial fame. Bill, though not a co-author, is no less an interesting and positive player in this story. Early in the book, he has a rendezvous with cancer.

We are told that he lives solely within the borders of optimism that frame any tough situation — a trait learned from his family, who would apparently break out in songs from the Sound of Music during get-togethers. Then, Bill and Ali watch in awe as the Superwoman that is their wife and mother not only battles the deadly autoimmune disease that strikes the talented tennis-playing Ali, but also starts thinking about a foundation to bring research and better understanding to others struggling with the illness.

At first, Ali and her mother take two very different paths: While Ali doesn’t even want to know the name of her disease and certainly not the the prognosis as it first affects her vision at age 14, Victoria immerses herself in every detail. Her approach to success, she shows us, is in researching every aspect and every possible outcome to defeat any challenge that lies before her. She also speaks frequently of the “2% factor,” her concept that when the odds of something happening — good or bad — are incredibly low, they are likely to occur to her or those near her.

When she pulls herself out of an abusive past to create her Victoria Jackson makeup enterprise, it is a 2% factor example, she tells us. Her husband’s episode with cancer, another example. Next, when the structure is built for the Guthy-Jackson Charitable Foundation, Victoria meets the renowned physician Dr. Katja Van Herle of UCLA, who has recently launched the All Greater Good Foundation. The doctor welcomes the chance for her own organization, which supports education and outreach programs for underfunded public health issues, to partner with Victoria’s to conduct NMO research. Definitely filed under 2%.

Victoria and Ali’s challenge is daunting. Yet unless the reader is dealing with a potentially fatal disease and also has the kinds of monetary and social resources Jackson does, there are times when it is difficult to feel the real pathos of (or empathy toward) the family’s unquestionably frightening journey. One presumes that there had to have been some darker moments amid the positive “2%” ones. Perhaps had the authors included one or two in their book, they may have made it a little more accessible to Everyman.

However, the bright moments they cover do convey some universal lessons worth embracing. We read about Ali’s maturation from denial to advocacy — a change that is genuine and heartfelt. Her becoming the editor of a newsletter to help others better understand the daily challenges of the disease seals her growth into an empathic, involved young woman. Reading about a mother and daughter and caring dad working together under the most difficult of situations and emerging stronger and more united, when often it’s those very tough situations that tear families apart, is also especially gratifying. The “Resources” chapter that wraps up the book appears to be useful as well.

If you know going into it that this book is about not just an unusual disease but an exceptional family of great means, the story does not disappoint. It’s not often that hero-worshipping and the super powers of others play such a big part in real life, or life for the majority of us.

But while it may put some readers off, “Saving Each Other” is a reminder that worst-case scenarios don’t always result in worst-possible endings. Perhaps if people like Victoria Jackson create more foundations, we can bring better results to people suffering from the many misunderstood and under-researched medical issues afflicting those of limited resource. That may be one lesson. If nothing else, the book most certainly carries hope from the first page to the last. It just may not reflect the reader’s reality.

Saving Each Other: A Mother-Daughter Love Story
Vanguard Press, October, 2012
Hardcover, 288 pages
$25.99