Scan barcode
A review by kacey7
Sick Kids in Love by Hannah Moskowitz
5.0
I finished this a while ago, and I’m still struggling with what I want to say. I could get really personal with this review, because of the amount of relatable circumstances I found in this book. I can’t find a definitive answer anywhere, but I assume the author has a chronic illness because of how painfully accurate this portrayal is.
I haven’t been on goodreads too much recently, because my illnesses are currently flaring, so now seems like a great time to talk about chronic illness, and the lack of representation in the book world.
Typically when you read about a sick person, they’re always dying. It’s rarely ever about the types of illnesses that never go away, that never get better - because people want a happy ending right? And what’s happy about someone never being healthy?
This is why representation matters.
People don’t understand chronic illness unless you live it. It’s an impossible concept to fully grasp until it’s you. And that lack of understanding and compassion is what makes representation so fucking important.
I wish 13 year old me could have read this. It would have saved me a lot of self hatred. Thirteen year old me didn’t know why she felt like crap all the time and why none of her doctors took her seriously. I’m not sure I’ve ever related to a character as much as I related to Isabel. I felt her pain, anger, and sadness as if it was my own. Because I got it. I don’t have rheumatoid arthritis like Isabel, but I do have a connective tissue disorder called Ehlers Danlos. It makes my joints ache 90% of the time, and despite having a diagnosis, I, like Isabel, am still fighting my doctors constantly to take me seriously. Most doctors want to heal you, but there’s rarely anything to “heal” when handling chronic illness, it’s just trying to maintain a semblance of a normal life. Doctors don’t know how to handle that.
A list of all the incredibly important chronic illness aspects the author addressed:
- The lack of respect you get from doctors
- The meds you take even when they barely help
- The pain you hide
- The pressure you feel to be normal, to act normal
- The fact that when you’re test results come back stable, you’re supposed to be okay
- The pain and heartbreak of a messed up childhood, and parents filled with flaws
- The fear that this is truly all in your head, that maybe you are just crazy
- The weird limbo you stay in because you’re neither healthy nor dying, you’re just stuck somewhere in the middle
- The struggle of feeling like you aren’t sick enough to “deserve” something that will make you feel better
I also found it refreshing that Isabel and Sasha’s families were both dysfunctional. I also grew up in a dysfunctional home, and that can make these issues even harder.
I don’t read YA contemporary much anymore, and at times it did feel a bit childish, but I had to recognize that I’m now in my mid 20s and this is a book about 16 year olds.
As someone with a chronic illness, do me a favor and go read this. Even if you can’t personally relate, you’ll come out of this book understanding illness and people so much better. Do it for all of us that feel misunderstood and under-represented.
I haven’t been on goodreads too much recently, because my illnesses are currently flaring, so now seems like a great time to talk about chronic illness, and the lack of representation in the book world.
Typically when you read about a sick person, they’re always dying. It’s rarely ever about the types of illnesses that never go away, that never get better - because people want a happy ending right? And what’s happy about someone never being healthy?
This is why representation matters.
People don’t understand chronic illness unless you live it. It’s an impossible concept to fully grasp until it’s you. And that lack of understanding and compassion is what makes representation so fucking important.
I wish 13 year old me could have read this. It would have saved me a lot of self hatred. Thirteen year old me didn’t know why she felt like crap all the time and why none of her doctors took her seriously. I’m not sure I’ve ever related to a character as much as I related to Isabel. I felt her pain, anger, and sadness as if it was my own. Because I got it. I don’t have rheumatoid arthritis like Isabel, but I do have a connective tissue disorder called Ehlers Danlos. It makes my joints ache 90% of the time, and despite having a diagnosis, I, like Isabel, am still fighting my doctors constantly to take me seriously. Most doctors want to heal you, but there’s rarely anything to “heal” when handling chronic illness, it’s just trying to maintain a semblance of a normal life. Doctors don’t know how to handle that.
A list of all the incredibly important chronic illness aspects the author addressed:
- The lack of respect you get from doctors
- The meds you take even when they barely help
- The pain you hide
- The pressure you feel to be normal, to act normal
- The fact that when you’re test results come back stable, you’re supposed to be okay
- The pain and heartbreak of a messed up childhood, and parents filled with flaws
- The fear that this is truly all in your head, that maybe you are just crazy
- The weird limbo you stay in because you’re neither healthy nor dying, you’re just stuck somewhere in the middle
- The struggle of feeling like you aren’t sick enough to “deserve” something that will make you feel better
I also found it refreshing that Isabel and Sasha’s families were both dysfunctional. I also grew up in a dysfunctional home, and that can make these issues even harder.
I don’t read YA contemporary much anymore, and at times it did feel a bit childish, but I had to recognize that I’m now in my mid 20s and this is a book about 16 year olds.
As someone with a chronic illness, do me a favor and go read this. Even if you can’t personally relate, you’ll come out of this book understanding illness and people so much better. Do it for all of us that feel misunderstood and under-represented.