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How I discovered this book: the paperback was sent to me by a friend, for my birthday last summer.
In a Nutshell: 'a profoundly moving, exquisitely observed memoir by a young neurosurgeon faced with a terminal cancer diagnosis who attempts to answer the question: What makes a life worth living?'
Not an easy book to review, or indeed to read. It starts off with Kalanithi's diagnosis - the unlikely occurrence of a man of 36 who (I assume) didn't smoke, getting lung cancer. At the time, he and his wife were about to separate, but they came together again when he fell ill, and had a child, Cady, who was just 8 months old when he died.
The beginning of the book tells much about what led Kalanithi to become a neurosurgeon, and his search for meaning in his life - I enjoyed this part. Less so the mechanics of some of the work he did (not for the squeamish). Then comes his suspicion that he's ill, the diagnosis and treatment. From the point of view of one who has known people who have died from and some who have recovered from cancer, I found the information about the treatments and his reaction to them, and the thoughts that went through his head, most interesting to read about.
What is so sad is that he didn't know how much time he had left; in the end, it was less than perhaps he'd thought. The last section of the book is written by his wife, after he died, and it's heartrending. Some reviews have said it's the best part of the book; in some ways I agree.
It's probably not one to read if you're not in a good frame of mind, but I'm glad I did.
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