I would never, ever wish pain on anyone. But the author was so irritating, so entitled, and so smug that...no, I don't wish her pain, I don't.
the first half, in which she describes the first year of pain, resonated, especially since i was reading it while sick and exhausted, in bed, with a headache. i'm sorry, but with really confusing chronic pain/illness, trying to understand what the body wants or needs is unlikely to give you answers or help you navigate the maze of medical advice. and finally, i couldn't get over the fact that she wrote this book with just two years of experience with pain. and she spent the second year applying what she learned there, trying to live her life as well as she could, pacing herself, not isolating or focusing on her pain. i'm glad she was able to produce something from her experience that made her feel useful, and i'd applaud it in zine format, but i don't want to hear from her in hardcover for another five or ten years.
Like when authors front-end their writing with snips of poetry, but HATE how they just let them sit there, gently backgrounding the tone of what you're about to read? If you use Linda Pastan's "Almost an Elegy," which contains the line "As you now inhabit the past" as a chapter header, then two sentences later write, 'So I began 'inhabiting the past,' caressing the happy memories..." it's not meaningful. It's kind of lazy-looking, like you were trying to answer a college essay prompt, "Read Linda Pastan's 'Almost an Elegy' and use the text to relate her experience of grief to a story from your own life." Did she have a page requirement or something?
I learned a lot of interesting medical info from this book, including how pain meds work and how the use of them can actually contribute to an exacerbation of pain under certain circumstances. The poetry aspect may make this book a bit heavy-handed for many readers .....
Twenty two years after Lynne Greenberg thought she had walked away unscathed from the neck fracture she sustained at age nineteen, her ordeal came roaring back when she learned that her neck was still broken. In other ways, it was a momentous shift." The Body Broken is a compelling read, especially for anyone who has ever experienced a serious illness or been a caretaker to someone with a chronic illness.
Medical investigation revealed that the bones in her neck from the earlier accident hadn't fused properly, causing intractable pain. After making the rounds of many pain management specialists and being on so many medication cocktails that she sardonically compares herself to Anna Nicole Smith, she goes to a special hospital where she meets other chronic pain sufferers and learns new techniques to manage her pain.
The bridge from the months of never-ending grief and pain to acceptance and pain control was weak, and so when suddenly she was dealing with it I didn't really know why anything had changed.
She is the sort of writer who doesn't know what to leave out, so the book is full of (way too much) detail and really leaves nothing to the imagination.
This book will speak for many who live with chronic pain.
She joins a sort of darkish netherworld, a vast unknown sisterhood of those us hanging on, understanding and living with daily grim realities with joyous choice. I wish to remind her of the counterintuitive confounding bias; i.e. her children's journeys may well have not been influenced by her sufferings as much as she seems to think.