This was my toothbrushing book: I read it over the course of a month or more, a couple of pages every time I brushed my teeth.
I wish I'd taken notes while reading. Instead, I'd periodically rant to my husband about the latest chapter.
This book came out in 2003, two years after I was diagnosed with CFS. So it's unsurprising that a lot of the information is dated. Each chapter is written by a different author. So it's unsurprising that the tone of the book is very uneven.
The best, most helpful chapters I found were near the beginning of the book. One part explained how to distinguish between CFS fatigue and fatigue due to clinical depression, which I found very useful. Another chapter I found fascinating was by a physician who specialized in treating CFS. He pointed out the difference between sudden-onset and gradual-onset chronic fatigue and claimed that he was able to find other causes in all his gradual-onset cases.
I was surprised by the number of studies cited throughout the chapters, and discouraged but unsurprised by the inconclusive results. It really emphasized the difficulty of studying an often-poorly defined syndrome. When a study resulted in a small number of complete cures and the vast majority with no observable effect, it seems reasonable to conclude that those patients who were cured had something else going on than the others.
And then there were the chapters that infuriated me. These were the chapters claiming that patients with CFS were malingering; that the best treatment was to brainwash us into believing we weren't ill; and the one outlining the infamous PACE study. There was advice to discourage patients from joining support groups, because unlike support groups for any other disease or condition, CFS sufferers would just reinforce each other's wrong-think.
At the very least, it did explain why I've encountered such abysmal attitudes from health care professionals.