“When the body attacks itself, the crisis is not just of bones and blood, but of beauty and boundaries. ‘Strange men have had their hands on me for days,’ Kelly Davio observes during a plasma treatment. Her skillful portrait of myasthenia gravis does not exist in a vacuum. It’s Just Nerves is in keen dialogue with the world around us—critiquing modern health care, pub seating etiquette, alarming election outcomes, smarmy meditation culture, and caricatures of illness in ads and on screen.
Kelly Davio is the author of the poetry collection Burn This House (2013) and the essay collection It's Just Nerves (2017). A founding editor of Tahoma Literary Review, former Managing Editor of The Los Angeles Review, and former Senior Editor of Eyewear Publishing in London, Kelly today lives and writes in New Jersey, where she works as a medical editor.
When I was offered the chance to review this nonfiction collection about disability, I just couldn't say no. Bring on these topics. I gotta make dialogue about this.
And I was not wrong to accept. It's Just Nerves is a very short and sobering experience. It's not my first time reading #ownvoices disability texts, but as every time, there is always something new. So why should you read this?
I think It's Just Nerves should be read by all – healthy or disabled, #spoonie or not. And especially if you're just a regular person who pretty much goes to the clinic only for sprained ankles or a bad cold. Because there's this sad thing that happens to regular people like us – to people who have never experienced being incapacitated, frail, exhausted – and that thing is called ableism.
Most of the time, we don't know ableism even exists. This is true for most of us. We have our own problems. And surely enough, our problems are always misjudged, always disregarded. We are the center of our world. Which is why we often do, excuse my language, bad shit, for example, make a disabled person move over to we could sit down with our kid (actual quoted occurrence from the book.) Or we call out a person who ‘looked at us weird’ although they literally can't move their face into a different configuration cause they are partly paralyzed. We judge someone as being lazy for wearing ‘sloppy clothes’, not considering that maybe it costs them so much to even put those on. And these are just small examples – ableism manifests in little things, such as even thinking ‘oh, that person should just go on a diet already’ or even ‘I can also pretend I have a headache’. All you who have never done this, raise your hand? Point made.
I want to personally apologize to all those people who have suffered slander, pain or even mere inconvenience on our part – from us as the society of healthy people (although I sometimes lean towards a spoonie myself, but that's beside the point). I will always try to help and understand, and yet, I will not hesitate to apologize for the rest of us who don't. Because if I started a conversation about what's wrong with this society, I could go on for days – it's not even about the lack of comfort, understanding or convenient facilities we're talking about. It's the fact that our society views a disabled or chronically ill person as a lesser being – denying the fact that it might be their identity. That they might want to be accepted for who they are – without having to be ‘exorcised’ first. That our ‘mindfulness’ will never become true soulfulness until we start looking outwards instead of inwards.
And this is why you read this book. It's shocking. It's tough. It might be political. It will be rough. But it's time to stop shielding yourself from your comfortable reality – come out and face the facts. Stop the hate. Learn more about your neighbour.
I have received this book in exchange for my honest review through Poetic Book Tours. Thank you!
Ms. Davio's essays, one by one, are powerful but collected in book form this is a must read for anyone interested in what we can do to support people with disabilities.
Even if you think you'd rather not spend your reading time on someone's struggle with debilitating illness, put this book on your list. Even if you think you've read enough about problems with healthcare bureaucracy, keep it on your list. Even if your tastes don't tend toward arcane neurological disorders when you browse the shelves for something new to learn about, order this book. Kelly Davio's lively, edgy, nuanced treatment of her challenging journey with myasthenia gravis offers intelligent, insistent hope to any of us coping with our own or others' suffering. The wit and grace she brings to a daily life laced with moments of sudden weakness, deep fatigue and sometimes wrenching pain remind us that there is no great chasm between what Susan Sontag called "the kingdom of the well" and "the kingdom of the sick," but that life comes moment by moment, delivers its fragile satisfactions and costly lessons with appalling unpredictability, and offers good bits of comic relief to those who know where to find them. Composed largely of columns she wrote over a period of several years, this collection of short chapters provides a generous, large-hearted look at a long journey no one would sign up for, but that all of us need to hear about.
I loved the writing and the messages behind it. It reminded me of a combination of my favorite crip nonfiction authors, Nancy Mairs and Rebekah Taussig. It really hit close to my heart when she discussed medical gaslighting (hence the title, It's Just Nerves).
I didn't like some of the essays, though, because it felt like a lot of history info dumping before actually getting to the point. The information was interesting but the writing was not. It was also jarring because I would read an excellent essay and suddenly read one with the same tone but lower quality. But that's usually a given in collections.
I'd definitely recommend it to anyone interested in disability lit and a bit of European policy.
So glad to finally get to read this after a friend’s rec!
What she had told me about this being a great memoir about chronic disability (and especially invisible ones) was very true,, i really enjoyed reading about that specific experience. A bunch of the stories felt very validating and were so nice to read.
At the same time I was bored at some of them and felt like it was disorganized at times. Some details and parts of her story I just wasn’t interested in
I fell in love with Kelly Davio's writing when I read her book of poetry, Burn This House, a few years ago. So I eagerly anticipated her next book, It's Just Nerves. It's Just Nerves is a collection of intertwined narratives about living with myasthenia gravis. A reader may think that reading such a book about chronic illness would be a bit depressing, but it's not. Davio is witty, and her prose is sharp and snappy. In this collection, we read about why she thinks people with chronic illnesses would have a better chance of surviving a zombie apocalypse or the smart aleck retorts against the medical profession who seem to deem her body as its own. Yet, there are some very honest and heartbreaking essays. The one that will stay with me forever is her narrative about a man pushing her to the ground at a writer's conference. In this vivid description, she recounts how those walked around her, with no effort to help her up from the ground. The only problem with this collection? It's too slim. I wanted more!
Kelly Davio has written an incredibly important book. In an intensely visible internet age where racism, sexism, and homophobia are being called out more clearly than ever before, the conversation on ableism and ways we as a society, knowingly or not, exclude or otherwise try to make invisible those with disabilities has not been taken up with the same intensity (indeed, as if to confirm this in the most blatant way possible, my browser has red-underlined "ableism" as I write this review). Why is this?
IT'S JUST NERVES tackles the many ways our understanding of disability and the ways we act toward disabled persons are sorely lacking. From a staggering level of ignorance about the difficulties those with visible or invisible disabilities face to the way that radical political factions are rising in the U.S., Europe, and beyond factors into these concerns, Davio places these important concerns in a variety of clearly-defined, contexts that anyone can appreciate and, hopefully, understand better how they can be true allies and help dismantle the systems that are stacked so heavily against those who live with disabilities. Her arguments are clear, well-researched, and built from an emotional core that gives them weight and fire.
Underpinning many of these essays on how disability factors into the healthcare system, pop culture, and more, as well as a number of memoir-like sections that are written with a poet's attention to detail and musical language, is the same basic foundation on which the socially conscious are building their attacks on the structure of racism, sexism, and homophobia: the "default" person in the Western imagination is white, male, straight--and without disability, and thus anyone who does not conform to these categories is considered "other." And the power of "we" and "us" vs. the "other" is the fuel that keeps discriminatory policies and structures self-sustained. With works like IT'S JUST NERVES shedding light on the world from a perspective that is sorely missing in our broader cultural discussions, the groundwork is continuing to be laid for meaningful and *lasting* change toward real equality and care for one another--if we make sure to hear and share voices like Davio's.
I don't know why I kept expecting these essays to surpass the average Everyday Feminism fare. Still moderately interesting (more like distressing) to read of her experiences with NHS in 2016, or her growing up Pentecostal and sick in the USA, in the sense that I am more grateful than ever not to have those experiences. That's kind of not the point though and I'm not entirely sure what is the use of this collection besides publicly claiming her particular experience (which of course I can not criticize) and thus 'educating' the presumed ignorant reading it as if they never left the internet. 2,5*
I liked this book. There was a mix of really, really powerful chapters that made you set the book down for a minute... With other chapters that seemed to drudge on about the health care system (but very informative!). I personally liked the shorter, more concise chapters more; it reminded me of poetry. Davio has a beautiful way with words. This book is one everyone should read. It was about her life experience... It also leaned very hard to the left/Liberal beliefs (I am Liberal, so I found myself agreeing with her), but I could see someone more Conservative not enjoying this book. Which is okay- because this is her life experience and beliefs.
One of the most powerful stories she told was when a man pushed her over in a crowded convention center. She assumed he pushed her over because she was using a cane. No one stopped to help her up. No one stopped to chastise the man. He helped her up while laughing, with no apology.... I feel this is how Americans often treat people with disabilities. We just pass by... Not our problem... But this book shatters that and suggests Americans (and Brits alike) need to actually take action for people with disabilities!
This is a gorgeous book about chronic illness and neurological disorder. I know, I know, it sounds heavy. And it is, but also it isn't: Davio's wit, humor, grace, tact, and self-deprecation make this tough and important topic also an enjoyable read. If you are on the fence in our current healthcare debate or need to see the face and mind of a "pre-existing condition," then this is a must-read book for you. It will teach you more than just compassion; it will show you how someone battling lifelong illness is not someone to cast aside, but someone who can be a positive contributor to society, community, art, and thoughtful processes. Davio is courageous and fighting and biting, but she is also an intelligent, well-spoken, well-read, and compassionate, functioning member of a society that constantly reminds her she's "an other." She fights back, and the fight is well worth your time to read. I cried through half of it and laughed through the other half, and I walked away with a new understanding of what it means to struggle, and most of all, to overcome.
Kelly Davio writes clearly, concisely, and at times with wit about chronic conditions (specifically her own experience with myasthenia gravis) and ableism. She says what is rarely spoken about the ignorance, and at times mean-spiritedness, about people with disabilities. I shook my head in disbelief about some of her experiences of discrimination, exclusion, and disregard, yet, sadly, I know she writes truthfully. As a retired nurse, my stomach knotted as I had to acknowledge my own limited understanding and complicity in systems that too often focus on the diagnosis and lose sight of the person. A tough, yet necessary, read.
This is a standout essay collection that is at once precise and poetic, revealing life with a disability from an array of enlightening angles, from pop culture's role in perpetuating ableism to the unique realities of living abroad in a wildly different (and idealized) healthcare system. IT'S JUST NERVES challenges its readers to become more empathetic humans, and to think bigger about the small, specific worlds that a singular body type has created. Davio deftly wields a wry sense of humor and unflinching observation into a collection that truly rewrites the heart.
An exploration of the physical and emotional challenges of myasthenia gravis, told with wry humor and sharp wit. As the essays unfold, one can't help but draw comparisons between the author's experience with this mysterious, debilitating disability and the world's current, incomprehensibly queasy malaise. Not only was I gripped by the lyrical, delectable writing; I admire the author's fortitude. In a reality of bad news, one wallop after another, Davio's inimitable spirit carries on, subverting fate and daring to hope.
I won this book from Goodreads. It's not my typical type of book. I really enjoyed it and have a new appreciation for those who are stricken with disability. It's written in a way that makes you want to keep reading. I read this book in a day. I was very surprised when my teenage daughter asked to read it. She's not a reader but was curious about the book. She also enjoyed it. Once you start reading this you won't want to stop.
I really thought I’d like this more. A book of essays about disability and healthcare and pop culture and how we treat each other? Of course yes. And I copied down all the incisive quotes et cetera. But I kept also getting weirdly irritated like I was getting a hot face at a dinner party because someone was saying something I wasn’t sure about but didn’t feel strongly or confident enough about to argue with. So I don’t know, really.
I loved this book because after reading it I felt so much more educated on disabilities and the effect it has on the brain, along with the science behind it. When reading this book I found a quote stating “we are the center of our world” on page 15. This quote I felt was very relevant to the stories of every different person in this book.
This is a fragment of my review. I could not post it all do to how it is put together, sorry.
What did I discover while I read this book? An impressive collection of anecdotes regarding tidbits of Kelly’s life with Myasthenia Gravis. Hence, showing eminent sadness, fabulous humor, and finally the candid aspect of living with an autoimmune disease which is something I can relate to. Though mine (I have multiple) are not life threatening, most days it feels like it. Therefore, when I needed to read about another person with an autoimmune disease the most, this book fell into my lap. Enough about me. This book is an inspiration no matter who you are, whether you are ill or completely healthy. Unquestionably, her inner strength is boundless providing an unwillingness to give up on anything that is a mind-blow to this reader.
Engrossing book -- an autobiographical insight into what it's like to live with a chronic and disabling disease. Should be required reading for any medical school student.