Bests & Worsts Reviews from Amazon

When I saw that this book was suggested for readers who like Anne Lamott, I knew I had to read it because Lamott is my favorite author. Her writings have inspired me and helped me get through some very difficult times through the years. Little did I know, though, that when I picked up "When Breath Becomes Air" and began reading it, I wouldn't be able to put it down until I was finished. Yes, it's that good. "When Breath Becomes Air" is a memoir chronicling Paul Kalanithi's life as he studies at Stanford University, and then at Yale University's medical school. Kalanithi is close to finishing his training as a neurosurgeon when he is diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. The realization that everything he's been studying and working for is about to be taken away from him is incredibly sobering; not only for Kalanithi, but for his wife, too. What follows is a fascinating look into the mind of someone with a terminal illness. Someone who had dedicated their life to helping sick people was now suddenly thrown into the new role of patient. Kalanithi's writing is honest and insightful, with frequent references to the literature he enjoyed so much. He is a deep thinker, for sure, and much of the book focuses on relationality. "Human knowledge is never contained in one person," Kalanithi writes. "It grows from the relationships we create between each other and the world, and still, it is never complete." We also learn much about the doctor-patient relationship, from both sides. "Doctors, it turns out, need hope, too." "When Breath Becomes Air" is at once heartbreaking and inspirational, and really puts life in perspective. While reading it, I couldn't help but think how lucky I am. The courageous writing of Paul Kalanithi had me contemplating life and its meaning right along with him. "The tricky part of illness is that, as you go through it, your values are constantly changing," he writes. "You try to figure out what matters to you, and then you keep figuring it out....You may decide you want to spend your time working as a neurosurgeon, but two months later, you may feel differently. Two months after that, you may want to learn to play the saxophone or devote yourself to the church. Death may be a one-time event, but living with terminal illness is a process." This book is not as complete as Paul Kalanithi wanted it to be. Unfortunately, his tragic death prevented him from finishing it. But even so, it is an amazing book that is wrapped up nicely by a beautiful epilogue, written by Paul's wife, Lucy. In it, she says: "[Paul] spent much of his life wrestling with the question of how to live a meaningful life, and his book explores that essential territory....What happened to Paul was tragic, but he was not a tragedy." Well said, Lucy.