The most recommended books about diseases

This was a touching book about a mixed Korean girl who tries to help her sick grandmother, Halmoni, get better through the power of stories. With a bit of magical realism and Korean folklore brought to life, Lily finds her own voice (so she is no longer what she describes as a “QAG – quiet Asian girl”) and begins to understand her own ancestry. Like Lily, I found a connection to my heritage via stories and folklore.

Illnesses affect families as well as individuals. How would you react to the news that your Dad would soon lose a leg because of type 2 diabetes? Two brothers reacted by setting out to find the hard information about type 2 diabetes. That was tough—but the brothers tracked down the new information that this type of diabetes could be reversed to normal. Then persuading Dad that things had to change was an even greater challenge. The family’s journey, and the remarkable achievement of major weight loss, is brilliantly documented. The insights into the stresses on the family as they support Dad are sublime. Even after decades of dealing with human tragedies as a doctor, this book raised a lump in my throat. Today, Geoff still has two legs. 

This story’s protagonist, Jessi, remains one of my favorite YA protagonists; she’s the sort of girl I would’ve loved being friends with as a teenager. And the Cohen boys… it’s no wonder Jessi is so enamored with them both! A poignant narrative centering around unimaginable tragedy, Some Other Now combines two of my favorite romance tropes: the boy next door and the love triangle. It’s a story about best friends, broken families, and love in all its fiercest forms, written with thoughtfulness and lyricism.

When I think about magical books that talk about real-world stuff, my first thought is this incredible retelling of The Twelve Dancing Princesses that examines (through a magical lens) the toll of parental alcoholism.

Four sisters all have different ways of coping with the dysfunction caused by their mother’s alcoholism, but together they escape into magical worlds through their house’s closets. The youngest sister, Silly, has been left out for a long time, but she makes their magic stronger once her sisters finally let her join them.

The metaphors are so rich here—the escapism, the secrets and shadows hidden in family closets, and the seemingly perfect but oblivious dad—that this story goes beyond fairytale and becomes personal myth. I love it so much. It’s gorgeous.

This nonfiction book on tuberculosis, published the same year as my book, begins with the discovery of a skull marked by the scars of tuberculosis. Turns out it belonged to a young man who died over 500,000 years ago from the disease. The authors trace the devastating effects of tuberculosis to modern day when our drugs can no longer fully guarantee treatment. This book tells a fascinating, yet worrisome, story about a most dreaded disease.

Hands down. Burgess is my favorite writer. And if you read anything from this list, read this one. It is almost impossible to describe this book and give it the justice it deserves. Like the rest of Burgess’ novels, Pontypool Changes Everything is full of beautiful, morbid, and just overall insane ideas. A zombie virus that travels through spoken language is fascinating enough. But what really sets this novel apart is Burgess’ lyrical prose, which can leave you both uplifted and down in the dumps at the same time. I found myself rereading passages of this novel simply because of the beautiful prose. (Also: Be sure to check out his other zombie novel The N-Body Problem. Can’t go wrong shooting zombies out into orbit!)

This classic text by medical sociologist Arthur Frank was written in the wake of two life-threatening events: a heart attack at age 39 and a cancer diagnosis a year later. 

Frank draws on both his scholarly and personal experiences to guide others who find themselves in similar circumstances. He helps us understand that when we place ourselves in medicine’s hands, we also subject ourselves to their ways of knowing. Their stories bleed into our stories, but they are never the same as our stories because what medicine knows as disease is not the same as what we experience as illness. 

Thus, Frank teaches us: “These two stories, the story of medicine taking the body as its territory and the story of learning to wonder at the body itself, can only be told together, because illness is both stories at once.”

Ani’s Light by Tanu Shree Singh with art by Sandhya Prabhat is about the depression and sadness when Mom is gone to the hospital for chemotherapy. This gentle picture book shows the reader that often fear makes us want to “hide” and find someplace safe.  But little by little the reader sees the importance of reaching out to others and slowly facing and talking about the fears that hurt one’s heart. 

This book charmed me from the very beginning. I loved all the enchanting characters that populate the story—a mysterious flying bird woman, an invisible tiger, a magical messenger parrot, and a powerful magician known as The Man Who Bends Light.

As the story opens, Micah needs a miracle—his grandfather is dying, and the only one who might be able to save him is a magician who owes the family a favor.

The Circus Mirandus is a wonderous, whimsical world of its own. This book made me want to find my own circus ticket, swing from a trapeze, and befriend a wise old elephant. I love stories that highlight the joys and complexities of family life, and this does just that. It’s also a tale filled with wonder, intrigue, and all the sparkle of a one-of-a-kind circus. 

This sensitive, charming book shows how a child learns about what is going on in her granny’s brain.

It addresses the emotions that a young child may feel when they witness confusing changes in a loved one’s behavior. This story provides a wonderful opportunity to discuss dementia and what to do if a child has concerns or questions.