book reviews, healthcare

A review of Salt in My Soul: An Unfinished Life, by Mallory Smith…

I remember when I first read about the genetic disease, cystic fibrosis (CF). It was December 1985, and my parents had a subscription to Reader’s Digest. That month, the condensed book excerpt was Frank Deford’s heartbreaking memoir, Alex: The Life of a Child. Deford had written this achingly beautiful account of his daughter, Alexandra, who died from CF when she was just eight years old. Alex was almost a year older than me, so her story was particularly poignant as I read about her as a 13 year old. Later, I bought Deford’s book and read it more than once.

Ever since I first learned about CF through Alex’s story, I’ve been interested in reading more about people who have lived with and died from it. Cystic fibrosis is a disease that affects everything about living. Though there have been some significant medical science breakthroughs that have made it possible for many CF patients to live much longer than Alex did, the sad truth is, it’s a disease that still claims so many young, promising, amazing people long before they should die.

Mallory Smith was, like so many CF patients seem to be, an extraordinary young woman. She died on November 15, 2017 at age 25, having accomplished incredible things during her short life. Her passing came about two months after she received a double lung transplant at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center (UPMC). When she was still living, Mallory was a prolific writer. She kept a diary while she was struggling with cystic fibrosis.

After her death, Mallory’s mother, Diane Shader Smith, edited and published her diary, which she started when she was 15 years old and continued until her death at age 25. The book is called Salt in My Soul: An Unfinished Life. The title refers to a universal condition of babies born with CF, salty skin. It’s such a well known phenomenon, there’s even folklore about it:

Woe to the child who tastes salty from a kiss on the brow, for he is cursed and soon will die.”

Salty skin is a hallmark of babies born with cystic fibrosis, a disease primarily of the lungs that is passed down via genes from both parents. Mallory was also a native of California and grew up near the Pacific Ocean. She was a swimmer, among so many other things. As I read about her medical travails, I couldn’t help but be amazed by all she managed to do with her life, in spite of her inevitably fatal illness. And, based on what I read in Salt in My Soul, she managed to do most of it with a positive, uplifting attitude, that won the respect of thousands of people who were lucky enough to know her personally.

Mallory was diagnosed with CF in 1995, at the age of three. She grew up having to endure frequent hospitalizations, taking endless medications (about 60 pills every day), having daily therapy sessions to loosen and expectorate the thick mucus caused by CF, and becoming all too familiar with hospitals in Los Angeles and San Francisco. Like most young people, Mallory had dreams of traveling the world and doing great things in her life. So, even though she was very sick at times, Mallory did all she could. She somehow managed to get excellent grades, participated and captained three sports teams, and got elected prom queen. She was clearly very likable and inspirational and based on her book, had so many friends and loved ones who adored her.

When she was choosing colleges, Mallory applied to Stanford University, not just because of its stellar academics and excellent reputation, but also because it had a hospital with CF experts on staff. Mallory’s college career was punctuated with hospital stays and doctor’s appointments, yet she was determined to live as normally as possible. She had roommates, and they became accustomed to everything she needed to accommodate her disease. Mallory eventually graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Stanford with a 4.3 GPA and a major in human biology with a concentration in environmental anthropology. After graduation, she became a freelance writer and lived in Los Angeles for awhile, until her health required her to move back to San Francisco, to be closer to her Stanford doctors.

When Mallory was a teenager, her lungs became infected with bacteria, including a deadly form of  Burkholderia cepacia that became a superbug highly resistant to antibiotics. CF is bad enough when the bacteria involved are not superbugs; however, Burkholderia cepacia colonization made it much more difficult for Mallory to qualify for the double lung transplant she desperately needed to survive. Salt in My Soul covers the story of Mallory’s fight for a transplant, which doctors were reluctant to do. The superbug infection makes it much less likely that the transplant will be successful, as the bacteria can still colonize in the patient’s lungs and kill them quickly. Ultimately, that is what happened in Mallory’s case.

Even as she was dying, Mallory’s family and friends were trying to find a new treatment for her. Her parents reached out to an epidemiologist whose husband had “phages” treatment, a new and experimental protocol that has shown some promise in helping people vanquish superbug infections. They were just about to try it with Mallory when her health went past the point of no return.

The phages treatment was one that Mallory never had the chance to try, but she did help research at least one drug. Mallory was being treated with a medication called Ataluren, which had seemed to be helping her. However, she experienced multiple episodes of hemoptysis (coughing up blood), and was taken out of the study. The drug was later discontinued.

This book covers the incredibly challenging financial issues faced by families who battle CF. I got the sense that Mallory’s parents were fairly well off financially, and they did have insurance. However, like all insurance companies, Blue Cross didn’t want to pay for certain necessary services. When it came time for her transplant, it was offered at a hospital that was not in Blue Cross’s network, and officials there refused to approve her for coverage. It took a minor miracle to straighten out that mess, and I was left sitting there, shaking my head in amazement. If I hadn’t married Bill, I might have wound up working for a health insurance company, as one of my graduate degrees is in public health- health administration. Health insurance is kind of in my wheelhouse… but reading about the dirty dealings Mallory’s family had to endure with their health insurer made me glad that’s not my life’s work. Health insurance companies in the United States literally gamble with people’s lives.

Mallory’s story also includes insight as to what it was like for her to have a love life while suffering from CF. Mallory had a very devoted boyfriend named Jack who was always there for her, just as her parents were. Jack includes some entries in the book, writing about how he knew his love affair with Mallory would end in tragedy.

I just finished reading Salt in My Soul this morning. While I don’t think it affected me in quite the profound way Frank Deford’s book, Alex: The Life of a Child did, I did find Mallory Smith’s story very moving and, at times, infuriating. A few days ago, without naming the book, I wrote about how Mallory was mistaken for a coke fiend because of her illness. She almost got arrested, simply because a bathroom attendant thought she’d been doing lines of cocaine in a public restroom. No… she had been suffering from one of the many symptoms of her fatal disease. It was just one more indignity and inconvenience she had to endure, thanks to being born with a genetic anomaly.

In another passage, Mallory’s mother wrote about how, even though she had a handicapped placard on her car, a tow truck driver in Pittsburgh tried to extort $200 in cash from her. It took the kindness of strangers to prevent him from taking the car and potentially putting Mallory’s life at risk, due to the fact that her necessary medical equipment was in it.

I felt a little guilty about my own persistent bad attitude about life. All Mallory wanted to do was live her life and achieve her dreams. So many of us are born with healthy bodies, and yet we fail to live up to our own potential. And so often, when I read about someone with CF, I read about an extraordinary person who does all they can just to live. I can think of so many people with CF who have achieved the incredible, even though they suffer(ed) from such a devastating disease that robbed them of so much– independence, dignity, normalcy, even the most basic of freedoms. And at the end of her life, after Mallory had had several “dry runs”, waiting for new lungs, she suffered so much that she had brief wishes for death. I almost wonder if it would have been better, and she might have lived longer, if she hadn’t had the surgery. But I know from reading Salt in My Soul, Mallory desperately wanted to try everything.

I guess if I can take anything from reading this book, it’s that you really can do things that seem impossible, if you put your mind to it and set your heart on success. Good health is a priceless gift that more people should appreciate and embrace. So many extraordinary people would love to simply be healthy. For that lesson alone, I think more people should read Mallory’s story. I give it five stars out of five. There’s a link to the book on Amazon at the bottom of this page.

Salt in My Soul has also been made into a documentary, and it can be watched on many of the most popular streaming platforms, including Google Play, Vimeo, and Apple TV, as well as Comcast, Cox, and Spectrum on demand. Below is the trailer for the film.

The trailer for Salt in My Soul.

Edited to add, August 23, 2023: I watched the documentary yesterday. It was well worth viewing. Mallory was such a beautiful, remarkable soul. No wonder so many people adored her for her all too brief life. I highly recommend the documentary! I downloaded it from Apple Plus.

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healthcare, mental health

High priced help for the hungry…

For some reason, my post about Adam and Darla Barrows’ love story has attracted a lot of attention. I am intrigued, because it’s somewhat uncommon for items in newspapers to generate interest for so long. Usually, you get a burst of interest in the hours or days after something hits, then people move on to the next thing. And I am especially surprised by the interest in my comments on Barrows’ piece, which was a Modern Love story, rather than a hard news item. I’m just an American blogger in Germany. Why do people care what I think? Why do they care so much that they want to respond or even set me straight? And do they know that sometimes their comments lead me on unexpected paths? That’s what today’s post is about– my unexpected trip into high priced help for the hungry in Switzerland. I never thought my post about a newspaper story would lead me there.

I recently got comments from two people who have never posted here before, both of whom have direct experience of loving someone with anorexia nervosa. One commenter seemed to agree with my take on Adam Barrows’ New York Times article about how he fell in love with a woman with anorexia. The other one clearly did not agree with me, and in fact, says my views are “outdated”. Both commenters have children who have suffered from anorexia. I appreciated that they took the time to read and comment. I won’t be surprised if others also comment, since that post is clearly very hot even a month after I wrote it. Adam Barrows’ story obviously really resonated with and rattled a lot of people.

I just want to mention a few things about that post. First off, all of my posts on this blog are mainly just my opinions. I share them with the world, but I don’t necessarily expect people to agree with me, nor do I assume I’m always right. I wouldn’t want everyone to agree, because it’s hard to learn anything new if everyone thinks the same way.

Secondly, I really think that Barrows’ story was less about anorexia and its treatment, than the development of Adam’s unique love relationship with his wife. I think a lot of people read Adam’s story, got very triggered by it, and felt the need to judge him. He probably knew people would have strong reactions to the story. Ultimately, I think a lot of people missed the point entirely, and focused on anorexia rather than the love story and his perspective as a man who loves someone with an eating disorder. Furthermore, Barrows’ story is not a long piece and was probably edited a lot, so it’s not a good representation of Adam Barrows’ character. It pained me to read so many nasty comments about Mr. Barrows, and that was why I wrote about his NYT piece in the first place.

Finally, I’m really glad he wrote that story and shared it, despite the polarized reactions. It has really made me think and, as you can see, continues to inspire new posts for my blog. 😉

Which brings me to today’s fresh topic. One of the people who commented on my post expressed disappointment that The New York Times shared Barrows’ piece and “glamorized” anorexia. Looking on my Statcounter results, it appeared that “Danielle” might have been writing to me from England. If she is from England, it would make sense that she would give me hell about my comments. She may or may not be aware of how different the US and UK healthcare systems are. In the United Kingdom, citizens have access to the National Health Service, which means healthcare doesn’t cost people as much as it does in the United States. A basic level of affordable care is available to everyone.

In the United States, healthcare is very expensive for most people, even for those with decent health insurance, which is also expensive on its own. Mental health care coverage is often woefully inadequate. It’s been years since I last had a “civilian” health insurance policy, but I seem to remember that my coverage only allowed for thirty days of inpatient psychiatric treatment per year. And that’s if there were no pre-existing conditions! Outpatient care was somewhat more generous, but it was not covered the same way or to the same extent a physical problem would be.

In the United Kingdom, there is also a process called “sectioning”, in which people can be involuntarily hospitalized for mental health conditions. The Mental Health Act of 1983 allows for family members and physicians to act in another person’s best interests when it’s clear that they need psychiatric help and won’t cooperate on their own. Anyone who is being sectioned must be assessed by health care providers first, but it appears that a person can be sectioned for a much broader array of reasons than they can be in the United States. Someone who is starving to the point of death because they have anorexia nervosa could possibly be sectioned, for instance, even if they are over 18 years old.

In the United States, we do have the means for hospitalizing people against their will for psychiatric reasons, but it’s a lot more difficult to force an adult into psychiatric hospitalization than it is a child. A lot depends on the laws of specific states. Moreover, in the United States, involuntary commitment seems to be done most often in cases in which a person is clearly a danger to other people as well as themselves, and is not in touch with basic reality. Someone with anorexia nervosa is probably not going to pose a genuine threat to anyone other than themselves. They also tend to be basically rational in things besides their body image. Anyone who is curious about how eating disorders in the United States are treated may want to watch the excellent 2006 documentary, Thin, by Lauren Greenfield. As you’ll find out if you watch this film, a person’s insurance coverage is also quite important in their ability to access care. I can’t say that adult people with eating disorders never get forced into treatment in the United States, but I think it’s more difficult to do it there than it is in England and Wales.

In the 1960s, there was a big push in the United States to deinstitutionalize people with mental illnesses, which meant that a lot of facilities closed down, for better or worse. The emphasis is more on outpatient treatment. In fact, healthcare is more for outpatient treatment for regular medical conditions, too, mainly because of how bloody expensive it is.

An eye-opener about how eating disorders are treated in America.

As I was thinking about Danielle’s comment and chatting a bit with my friend, Alexis, who is herself employed in healthcare, I got to wondering how eating disorders are treated in Germany. I went Googling, and found a few items that didn’t tell me much. But then my eyes landed on an ad for a rehab in Switzerland– specifically, Paracelsus Recovery in Zurich.

I know Switzerland has really excellent medical care. I also know that it’s an eye-wateringly expensive place. I know healthcare is not cheap in Switzerland, either. I was interested to find out what this place in Zurich was like. I found out that it’s a family run business. Clients are treated one at a time, and have the option of staying in one of two huge penthouses.

The fees include five star treatment, to include a personal chef and a counselor who stays with the client 24/7 in beautifully appointed accommodations. There’s a medical staff, including nurse practitioners and physicians, a wellness staff, with personal trainers and yoga instructors, and therapists. If you access their Web site, you can take a tour of the posh penthouse, which includes a bedroom for the therapist. If you like, you can pay separately for accommodations at a hotel, although the accommodations are included in the price of the treatment and I’m not sure if you get a price break for staying off site.

A very comfortable place to recover in Zurich.

This center treats several different psychiatric conditions, including drug addictions, eating disorders, mood disorders, alcoholism, and behavioral addictions (porn addiction or gambling, for instance). It’s a very discreet place and, judging by the fees they charge, is intended for helping only the very wealthy. At this writing, it costs 80,000 Swiss Francs per person per week to be treated at this facility. To put this price into perspective, at this writing, 80,000 Swiss Francs is equal to about $86,000 or roughly 72,000 euros. The fees cover everything related to the treatment, although if you fall and break your arm or get sick with COVID-19 and need hospitalization, you will have to pay for that medical treatment separately. Also not included is accommodation for anyone who accompanies you or a two day pre-assessment, which is an additional 20,000 francs.

As I was reading about this place, it occurred to me that there must be a market for it. I’m sure their clients are mostly extremely wealthy people, such as royalty from the Middle East, Hollywood movie stars, rock stars, or business moguls from Wall Street. Paracelsus gets excellent reviews online, but I wonder how many people have had the opportunity to experience this kind of treatment. Still, it’s fascinating to read up on it. I wonder what it would be like to work at such a place. I’m sure they deal with some extremely high maintenance people. I also wonder what would prompt someone to start such a practice, which seems to cater only to extremely wealthy people. To be sure, that population is unique and may need special accommodations, but I’m sure the cases are uniquely challenging, too. People with a lot of money are often used to hearing the word “yes” a lot. Maybe such posh surroundings are less effective for people with addictions. But again, I could be wrong. At the very least, it looks like a very competently run place, and in a city well known for psychiatric care.

Wow… very beautiful and very expensive! And no need for a translator.

I found another rehab in Switzerland, Clinic Les Alpes, that has a relatively bargain basement cost of 45,000 Swiss Francs per week, although the typical stay is for 28 days, so you do the math!. It looks like there, you can be treated for exhaustion or burnout or addictions. They seem to focus on addictions the most and offer care that emphasizes comfort, as well as the classic 12 step program to sobriety. It’s in a beautiful area, just off the shores of Lake Geneva, in an area with many forests and no sound pollution (which sounds wonderful to me). But this program appears to be a lot less private. There are 27 rooms for clients to stay in rather than two exclusive penthouses.

I would imagine that healthcare in Switzerland there is delivered expertly, especially if one is paying many thousands of Francs. My experiences in Switzerland have mainly been in a few hotels, a couple of which were high end. The Swiss definitely do high end hotels right, although on the whole, I find it a rather boring, soulless place, even if it is also very beautiful and scenic.

Well… I’ll never darken the door at one of those very special rehabs in Switzerland. I do find them interesting to read about, though. They’re not for ordinary people with big problems. They are for extraordinary people with big wallets. Obviously, there’s a need and a market for them, since at least two of them exist… and to think I found out about them because of a comment on my post about a Modern Love story I read in The New York Times over a month ago! I am always amazed by what inspires me to think and to write… and that’s why I like to hear from people. I’m sure Danielle never knew her comment about how wrong my opinions are would lead me to research luxury rehabs in Switzerland. You learn something new every day!

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