A plainspoken chronicle of living with a dreadful case of a difficult-to-diagnosis disease.
What started as a minor pain just below her ribs would soon begin to impact the author’s breathing, and she was eventually diagnosed with pulmonary endometriosis. Endometriosis usually affects the mucous membrane of the uterus, but it can also be a traveler, with endometrial implants attaching themselves to the colon and the lungs. The tissue of the implants sheds, causing a monthly flow of blood that can lead to lung collapse. Desiring to call attention to the little-known disease, the author vibrantly recalls her 13-year struggle with the illness, the three major surgeries she underwent (in Army, Navy and Air Force hospitals) and the seven chest-tube procedures. She charts her progress and backslides, the expression of her symptoms and her close brushes with death. She also includes the surgeons’ narrative summaries of her operations. During her protracted battle with the disease, she faced countless debilitating procedures, including colonic resections and an abdominal hysterectomy with bilateral salpingo-oophorectomy. Though it may be expected that a military officer address each piece of new bad news with dignity and resolve, readers will still be impressed by Wallace’s fortitude, as well as the thoughtful, caring impulse that prompted her to write this book: to alert other women to this obscure, diagnostic nightmare of an illness.
A slim but sharp and valuable little book that will go a long way toward helping those who suffer from pulmonary endometriosis.
Privately published by Strunk of Cornell in 1918 and revised by his student E. B. White in 1959, that "little book" is back again with more White updatings.
Stricter than, say, Bergen Evans or W3 ("disinterested" means impartial — period), Strunk is in the last analysis (whoops — "A bankrupt expression") a unique guide (which means "without like or equal").
Noted jazz and pop record producer Thiele offers a chatty autobiography. Aided by record-business colleague Golden, Thiele traces his career from his start as a ``pubescent, novice jazz record producer'' in the 1940s through the '50s, when he headed Coral, Dot, and Roulette Records, and the '60s, when he worked for ABC and ran the famous Impulse! jazz label. At Coral, Thiele championed the work of ``hillbilly'' singer Buddy Holly, although the only sessions he produced with Holly were marred by saccharine strings. The producer specialized in more mainstream popsters like the irrepressibly perky Teresa Brewer (who later became his fourth wife) and the bubble-machine muzak-meister Lawrence Welk. At Dot, Thiele was instrumental in recording Jack Kerouac's famous beat- generation ramblings to jazz accompaniment (recordings that Dot's president found ``pornographic''), while also overseeing a steady stream of pop hits. He then moved to the Mafia-controlled Roulette label, where he observed the ``silk-suited, pinky-ringed'' entourage who frequented the label's offices. Incredibly, however, Thiele remembers the famously hard-nosed Morris Levy, who ran the label and was eventually convicted of extortion, as ``one of the kindest, most warm-hearted, and classiest music men I have ever known.'' At ABC/Impulse!, Thiele oversaw the classic recordings of John Coltrane, although he is the first to admit that Coltrane essentially produced his own sessions. Like many producers of the day, Thiele participated in the ownership of publishing rights to some of the songs he recorded; he makes no apology for this practice, which he calls ``entirely appropriate and without any ethical conflicts.'' A pleasant, if not exactly riveting, memoir that will be of most interest to those with a thirst for cocktail-hour stories of the record biz. (25 halftones, not seen)