75 Books Like In the Blood

Paganini was an extraordinary violinist because of his exceptionally flexible thumb. Why was his thumb so “bendy”? Genetics. His genes provided an opportunity, and he learned how to exploit it.

Each of us is genetically unique. Our challenge is to understand our genes, which can be positive or negative. The Violinist’s Thumb is a nice introduction to the importance of DNA and the impact of genes in history. Inbreeding in the European royals led to hemophilia and ultimately contributed to the fall of the Czar and the Russian Empire. Genes have played a major role in history, art, and science.

It is a fun book with a novel perspective. 

My mother was a Freudian psychiatrist who prescribed antidepressants as a last resort, while my brother, also a psychiatrist, turns to antidepressants as first-line therapy. I wanted to learn more about why my family members took these different approaches.

Before Prozac is a wonderful history and behind-the-scenes look at the medical treatment of depression and related disorders. I learned about the politics behind restricting access to benzodiazepines (like Valium®), how Prozac® was designed to be an anti-histamine until Lilly found a better indication and much more.

This is the first book I recommend to my friends who have a personal or academic interest in depression. I couldn’t put it down and suggest it to friends who are interested in the history of modern medicine. 

Like most people, the two diseases of aging that scare me the most are ischemic stroke and Alzheimer’s disease. I don’t want to lose my ability to think, and I want to preserve my memory. So...there is no time like the present to explore what I can do to learn how to prevent Alzheimer’s disease.

Bredesen is the first neuroscientist I’ve encountered who describes different types of Alzheimer’s and offers practical diagnostic and dietary advice. I’ve explored his recommendations, and I think they’re sound. I’ve suggested this to many of my friends for them and/or for their parents and loved ones.

There is nothing that worries me more than when I hear that someone has been transferred to the intensive care unit with an infectious disease.

There are reasonable, not perfect, treatments and approaches to treat bacterial infections—although they are becoming fewer and fewer. Rarely discussed is the threat of fungal infection with Candida auris in hospitals—a treatment-resistant and hearty strain that is infecting and taking the lives of immunocompromised or weakened patients in the hospital. Unlike bacteria and viruses, fungi are resilient and can remain dormant in many environments. It is not just hospitals where fungi are dangerous; they can infect the lungs of desert dwellers and cause destruction in forests.

I suggest this book to my friends who want to be aware and take precautions (as much as possible) and encourage pharma and biotech to develop new tools/medicines to control deadly hospital infections.

I picked this book up on a research trip to London. I had anticipated referring to it in my own writing, however, I could not put it down!

The poignant information and stories recollected by Ms Mayhew are heart stopping. I don’t often cry when I read a book. Ms Mayhew is a thorough medical and social historian who brings to life the reality of healing and medicine in wartime. Miraculous moments were achieved, but at what cost, long term? 

I found Trauma: My Life as an Emergency Surgeon when I was on a read-all-the-books-about-emergency-medicine kick. I had recently gotten my paramedic certification and was trying to learn all I could about the science of medicine. My brain does not do well with textbooks, so I gravitated towards memoirs.

Unfortunately, being a great doctor and being a great—or even good—writer, seldom go hand in hand. Most of the doctor memoirs I came across were as thrilling as an Anatomy and Physiology textbook.

Dr. Cole’s book was different. He’s a skilled writer and his experiences are exciting and varied.

This superb biography is an engrossing account of the mysterious title surgeon and the doctor’s fascinating world. James Miranda Barry joined the British Army in 1813 as a regimental surgeon and served in colonial posts for the next fifty years. But Barry had been born Margaret Bulkley, an anatomical female—a surprise revealed after the doctor’s death.

Was Barry’s masquerade strategic, the doctor’s only route to a medical career? Was Barry a transgender person? I wondered if the “truth” would remain a mystery. Rachel Holmes persuaded me that the probable answer lies in a document “gathering dust” in Edinburgh’s medical school archives, a revelation she saves for the last chapter. 

This magnificent history of the South’s landscape, an unexpected one-off from a historian of military medicine, looks at how humans have shaped the Southern land and vice versa. It debunks the romantic view of pre-Columbian Indians as “natural ecologists” living in harmony with nature, showing how they radically altered their environment by hunting and burning. Europeans were even more exploitative and brought with them diseases that loved their new home. Later developments like flood control, wildlife protection, and anti-pollution measures have had profound and sometimes unanticipated consequences. The book is richly detailed and unusually well-written—not surprising, since Cowdrey has also written award-winning science fiction and fantasy. 

Author Dandi Daley Mackall wrote With Love, Wherever You Are after reading a trunk-load of letters exchanged by her parents during their years as a nurse and doctor on the battlefields of Europe during World War II. Mackall's novel is based on genealogical research and is a story about people and the matters of their hearts, instead of military strategies and battles. Mackall was closer in time, though, since With Love, Wherever You Are is about her parents and set during the 1940s. She had access to primary sources in her research. As “The Greatest Generation” is passing away, it’s important that authors like Mackall are preserving these biographical stories.

A gut-wrenching true account about a U.S. Army soldier’s horrific wounding and recovery, The Glass Factory entails the unfathomable physical and emotional costs on veterans and their families in the Iraq War. This book was an authentic Iraq War story to me because it showed the casualty evacuation and horribly painful rehabilitation process often ignored by more vainglorious authors. However, instead of dwelling on victimhood and hurt, the author’s journey has an uplifting message of overcoming hardship and growth as a human being and citizen.