Kevorkian, gadfly of the medical profession and inventor of the ``suicide machine,'' speaks his mind on the ethics of death. Its title notwithstanding, this is not primarily a discussion of euthanasia—or ``medicide,'' the author's term for euthanasia performed by professional medical personnel—but, rather, largely a defense of his position that death-row inmates should be given the option of execution by general anaesthesia, thus permitting use of their bodies for experimentation and harvesting of their organs. Since his days as a medical resident, Kevorkian has attempted to convince legislators, prison officials, and physicians of the value of this approach. However, the art of persuasion is not Kevorkian's forte; indeed, he seems unable to resist attacking and insulting those who disagree with him, referring to his medical colleagues as ``hypocritical oafs'' with a ``slipshod, knee-jerk'' approach to ethics. Those seeking a thoughtful discussion of euthanasia will not find it here, but Kevorkian does offer a revealing look at gruesome methods of execution. (Readers who have the stomach for it may be intrigued by his account of the many attempts to determine how long consciousness endures in severed heads.) Kevorkian concludes with a recounting of his development of the ``Mercitron'' (as he has named his suicide machine), his reasons for creating it, and his difficulties in promoting its use. A model bioethical code for medical exploitation of humans facing imminent and unavoidable death is included in the appendix. An angry doctor's rambling and repetitious harangue, certain to arouse the ire of the medical establishment.
Pub Date: Sept. 10, 1991
ISBN: 0-87975-677-2
Page Count: 245
Publisher: N/A
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: July 15, 1991
This low-key exploration of belatedly (age 40) wanting and not being able to conceive a baby is uncommonly sensitive and revealing. A casual observation of two mothers and their rambunctious offspring on an ice cream break at Dairy Queen launches Alden's (Feeding the Eagles, 1988) memoir of the years she spent waffling between wanting a child to nurture and wondering how a woman could surrender her life to the peremptory needs of a child. Alden longed, she came to realize, both to be her mother and not be her mother, to be a writer (inspired by mentors Wallace Stegner and Tillie Olsen) and to bear a child and be ``swallowed up by caretaking.'' Always ambivalent, she and her husband nevertheless moved ahead, at first leaving conception to the fates by simply abandoning birth control. As time went on, they more pointedly ``tried,'' scheduling intercourse for the fertile times dictated by thermometer and monthly cycles. Then they tried harder, enlisting the help of infertility experts for hormone treatments, artificial insemination, and the counting of follicles. Ultimately, they stopped trying, decided against adoption, and continued building their life as a ``family of two.'' But not without tears and a long, painful period of mourning for Alden. ``Our bodies were made to have babies,'' a therapist tells her. ``It takes a long time for the body to get over not having them.'' Far more than a recitation of the frustrations faced in specialists' waiting rooms, this is also an exploration of growing up as a southern girl, the conflicts encountered as the '60s and feminism overtook the wearing of white gloves and chicken salad luncheons, and the bending and mending of a mother and daughter's relationship. An eloquent self-examination without self-pity that helps resolve the now-common struggles of 30-plus women who face not only infertility but the conflict between society's expectations and personal fulfillment.
Pub Date: Sept. 1, 1996
ISBN: 1-886913-08-0
Page Count: 296
Publisher: Ruminator Books
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 1996
entertaining, often scandalous portraits of doctors at work.
A collection of eight case studies revolving around questions of diagnosis and treatment, by Harvard physician and New Yorker writer Groopman (The Measure of Our Days, 1997).
Most doctors, if they write at all, write mainly about disease and cannot resist certain subjects. Groopman covers them all in eight chapters and a prologue, and they are cracking good stories. In the traditional when-I-got-sick essay, a patient’s insistence that physicians cure his slipped disk converts it to a permanent disability. A second story in this genre describes the nightmarish odyssey of Groopman, his wife, and their sick son as they search for a competent doctor over the course of a holiday weekend. The author encounters many tragedies along with a few triumphs. A woman dies of leukemia (misdiagnosed by her HMO) and, after failing to save her life, Groopman must defend himself against a frustrating malpractice suit. He discovers a rare but curable blood disease in a friend's father; unfortunately, local physicians have diagnosed it as a common, incurable condition. They resent his interference, and the patient declines to question their judgment. A young woman asks to be tested for the breast-cancer gene and discovers she has it. Can she prevent the inevitable by having her breasts removed? Groopman discusses the pros and cons, but the woman springs a surprise. Inevitably, literary doctors write of a personal encounter with aging: Groopman's grandfather descends into Alzheimer's, a sad tale of a beloved man growing repulsive and burdensome. Wisely, Groopman rarely addresses larger issues: he expresses admiration for the busy family physician, although those in his book are mostly blunderers; he denounces HMOs that deal with skyrocketing costs by cutting benefits, but he offers no alternative plan of action. His focus is more specific than general. Not profound literature, yet undeniably fascinating: Groopman has a good ear and a dramatic flair, and he delivers
entertaining, often scandalous portraits of doctors at work.Pub Date: March 1, 2000
ISBN: 0-670-88801-X
Page Count: 256
Publisher: Viking
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 2000
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