BOOK REPORT
RECOVERY: THE LOST ART OF CONVALESCENCE
Written by: Terri Schlichenmeyer
B
ack when people sent cards through the mail for such things, good wishes for healing were the main sentiments inside. They were literally called "get-well cards," and if you were ailing, you knew someone was hoping you might feel better, stay healthy, and, in the new book "Recovery: The Lost Art of Convalescence" by Gavin Francis, take all the time you need. When he was twelve years old, Gavin Francis experienced a "stupid accident" that resulted in a broken leg, surgery, and months of physical therapy and rest. He doesn't dwell on it; instead, he remembers how happy and gentle his recovery was – especially as compared to an earlier convalescence that was full of disinfectant and haze. This illustrates how "convalescence... can and must take very different forms with different illnesses, and between different people." When we hurt, we need to recover, he says, although "the words 'recovery' and 'convalescence' are generally absent from the index of medical textbooks." It wasn't always this way – Florence Nightingale knew that rest was essential – but now we seem to operate under a collective eagerness for stoic healing. We live in a busy world that it makes us feel like we need to ask permission to take time to get better. Instead, says Francis, look at recovery as an "opportunity" that is "best if we give it time and respect." Add nature to your recovery, even if it's just looking through a window, and be sure to get some fresh air. Don't feel as though you have to hurry the process. If work is what ails you, think about how you can change the situation. Consider your priorities, and know the best ways to avoid burnout. Travel, if you can; studies show that that can help to lessen stress and soothe anxiety. Remember that recovery doesn't mean inactivity, and it doesn't mean eating poorly because you can. Also remember that mind and body work together. Learn to find what refreshes you and makes you feel less anxious.
Most of all, "be kind to yourself." So you've taken to your bed for a while, though you long to get back to normal life as soon as possible. "Recovery" can help, no matter what put you there. A hundred forty-four pages of understanding is what you get with this book, and sympathy, but not too much. Author Gavin Francis uses personal tales, history, and stories gleaned from his career to give readers just the right amount of comfort and support, and he's lighthearted but encouraging about it, in recommendations that are both commonplace and unique for brain and body. Francis offers ways forward that are soothing but not saccharine, leaving readers feeling that they're taken seriously. There's the tiniest bit of "poor you" here, but with an oh-so-gentle pull up urging readers to get off the bed and back to life. This book may seem like something you'd give to a hospital patient, but it's also great for someone whose soul was wounded, too. Find "Recovery" and get it. JANUARY-FEBRUARY 2024 57
