If Maxine Kumin were still living I'd thank her for this book. Misery loves company, and we all crave the comfort of our own tribe. Paralysis is a horror too extreme to even contemplate when well, and that doesn't change when suddenly it is no longer an abstract concept, but deeply, tragically, personal.
Having been touched by spinal cord injury, my husband's (his was an "incomplete" SCI, as was hers), Inside the Halo and Beyond brings back a lot of memories, none of them good. She ends her book only six months into her recovery, which I find remarkable. We are nearly two years in, and even though much, though not all, of my husband's once absent sensation and motor function have been recovered, I am still sometimes pummeled by PTSD, especially as the anniversary of his injury approaches. And I was not even the SCI victim. Like Victor Kumin, I became, in an instant, the "well spouse."
I am a little surprised that Ms Kumin never touches on finances. Being quite well-off, probably she and Victor could afford an excellent health insurance plan in addition to Medicare. Perhaps deductible, co-pay, in-network versus out-of-network, claims which are covered, claims which are denied, home modification expenses, adapted vehicle costs, are all concepts which, because there are adequate funds to devote to them, do not cause Ms Kumin's family unbearable added stress and worry.
But how about the good friends, fellow SCIs, that Ms Kumin makes in rehab. Were they all independently wealthy? Or, while they and their spouses were trying to cope, emotionally and physically, with what in most cases may be the worst experience of their lives, are they simultaneously fighting another, constant, sometimes losing battle against their insurance providers' efforts to limit their losses in the face of claims that will, at the very least, amount to hundreds of thousands of dollars. And in the case of a complete SCI at the cervical level--think Christopher Reeve--millions.