Breast Cancer Journal: A Century of Petals

Rating:
Summary: A self-indulgent journey and journal
Review: As a breast cancer survivor, this book was recommended to me by the proverbial friend-of-a- friend. (Who, as it turns out hadn't actually read "A Breast Cancer Journal.") I read it with hope, hoping to find a kindred spirit. What I found was a self-indulgent, egocentric account that paints the author as virtually the only woman who has had to struggle with this terrible disease. That Wittman is a technically clever and adroit writer, there can be no doubt. Like a good Hallmark card, she knows what buttons to push. But reading between the lines one finds a woman engaged not so much with how her disease might leave those she could possibly leave behind, or those committed to helping her or who love her, but a woman for whom the disease has provided an outlet for what I am sure is a considerable ego. There were moments in reading it that I almost felt sicker than during some of the worst moments of my illness. Read at your own risk.

Rating:
Summary: I liked this book!
Review: Juliet Wittman, a Boulder, Colorado journalist, was diagnosed with stage II breast cancer in 1988. She underwent surgery, chemo, radiation and tamoxifen follow-up and has had no recurrence at the time of this publication. She had what her doctor labeled "a standard garden variety breast cancer" and treatment. So what's the big deal? The big deal is how well she communicates the experience and how well she got to know the ins and outs of cancer-world. Often there's a sting to what she says, e.g. "I loved stories about a sister, friend, mother, aunt who had survived breast cancer and lived into old age, but not when the details were unconvincing." [134] Her observations of fellow sufferers can be telling, as in the case of the advanced stage people who were mixed in with early stage people in a support group: "These people look at us silently. They know the difference between us and them. They know that they, too, constructed a list of reasons to expect to stay well forever. But then one day, feeling strong and secure, they'd felt a lump or a small ache. Or received a notice from their doctors that the latest blood test revealed tumor activity. Suddenly they had tumbled off the little perch of safety we all cling to into the abyss. ...These dying men and women want to protect us from that knowledge. And they also want to rub our noses in it." [244-45] Her critique of the mind-over-matter schools and cancer-personality-theory is as astute as any I've read. At the end of the book, there's a nice little appendix titled "What I Wish I'd Known When I Was First Diagnosed." All in all an excellent contribution. Will appeal to: The educated and skeptical who are fully aware of their danger but not terribly sick.

Rating:
Summary: a tough read
Review: This pretentious, ponderous expose on her struggle with breast cancer is nothing more than a self absorbed, shamelessly unprovocative attempt at exploiting the disease to feed her obviously large ego. She offers little compassion, hope, or gentleness. My advice would be to avoid this book.