Bed number ten /

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Main Author: Baier, Sue.
Other Authors: Schomaker, Mary Zimmeth.
Format: Book
Language:English
Published:New York : Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, c1986.
Edition:1st ed.
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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

A Houston housewife, mother of two teenage daughters, Baier endured a virtual living death when she contracted Guillain-Barre syndrome. Suddenly and without apparent cause, her body was entirely immobilized; meanwhile her mind remained alert and her nervous system lost none of its sensitivity to pain. At first able to communicate only by moving her eyelids and laboriously ``spelling'' key words, she slowly improved until she was released from the hospital and returned home. Herefive years after the trauma, which has left her handicappedshe thanks her husband, family and members of her church and community for the support that compensated for bouts of depression and the occasional callousness of hospital personnel. Baier's chronicle of courage offers hope to victims of the catastrophic disease. (February 28) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Kirkus Book Review

All about the ICU unit of a Houston hospital that was Baier's home for four-and-a-half months. She was a victim of Guillan-Barre syndrome, a disease that paralyzes every muscle in the patient's body while leaving the mind and nervous system fully functioning. This first-person account of the illness serves both to inform and to warn. Guillan-Barre is not fatal. Thought to be linked to flu shots, it destroys the myelin sheathing of the neuromuscular system. The myelin does grow back--at the rate of one inch per month. Baler is six feet tall. Her recovery included eleven months in the hospital--four months of which she was totally helpless, attached to a respirator, able to communicate only by blinking her eyes--and six months with a nurse at home. Four years after the onset of her illness, though she lives a fully normal life as a housewife with a husband and two daughters, she continues physical therapy for certain muscles she is still working to control. Though the story of Baler's recovery is dramatic, it is her account of the time spent in ICU, completely at the mercy of the hospital staff, that could convince even the most ardent supporter of America's current health-care system that something has to change. Doctors too busy or self-absorbed to care; nurses, male and female, who treat the patient as so much meat--the charges have been made before, but the daily humiliations suffered by Baler (and her overwhelming joy when she finds a nurse or therapist who wants to communicate and help) make them immediate and terrifying. Bed Number Ten offers little in the way of an examination of the system it quietly questions, and nothing in the way of answers. It is meant to be an inspirational tale and is written in a generic ""woman's magazine"" style that tends to be boring when it drifts off the course of the disease itself. Nonetheless, in its simple, straightforward way the book offers encouragement and hope--and some much-needed cautions--to victims of Guillan-Barre or any other disease requiring long-term hospitalization. Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

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