I want to come right out and tell you the truth. Carrie Host made me cry. And laugh. And cry some more. In her book, Between Me and the River, Living Beyond Cancer, Carrie uses the analogy of a river to describe the sudden upheaval her diagnosis of Carcinoid Tumors causes in her very consciousness. It seems a fitting parallel. Getting swept away, frozen, drowning, surging above, tumbling down to the depths and over the falls, even gently floating along, only to have it all happen again.
Carrie writes movingly, fluidly, about what happens when cancer becomes the focus in her life. When she wrote about how she must tell her children, and her agony over finding the words, I wept silently along with her. No mother could bear such pain, I think. When she griped about taking a backseat as a parent, not even being able to dress her little boy, my throat tightened up. When she crossly told an echo-cardio tech to stop talking, I actually guffawed, remembering my own incredulity at the insensitivity of such folk.
Carrie Host delivers a poetic, heartrending tale of cancer diagnosis, treatment, and survival. It is at turns melancholy, amusing and hopeful, and I firmly believe that if you or someone you know has been diagnosed with, is currently in treatment for, or even in remission of cancer, there is no better way to get inside that persons head than to journey with Carrie in Between Me and The River.
For a sneak-peek at Between Me and the River: Living Beyond Cancer, click here.
If you are moved by Carrie's story, please drop by CaringforCarcinoid.org to learn more about Carcinoid, donate, or just spread the word...
In the interest of full disclosure, I was given a copy of Between Me and the River: Living Beyond Cancer by Carrie Host to review by OnlinePublicist in exchange for a fair and objective review. I did not take payment from the publisher or author of this book beyond a copy of the book in question.