Jennifer Wright

"A humorous book about history's worst plagues from the Antonine Plague, to leprosy, to polio and the heroes who fought them In 1518, in a small town in France, Frau Troffea began dancing and didn't stop. She danced herself to her death six days later, and soon thirty-four more villagers joined her. Then more. In a month more than 400 people had died from the mysterious dancing plague. In late-nineteenth-century England an eccentric gentleman founded the No Nose Club in his gracious townhome a social club for those who had lost their noses, and other body parts, to the plague of syphilis for which there was then no cure. And in turn-of-the-century New York, an Irish cook caused two lethal outbreaks of typhoid fever, a case that transformed her into the notorious Typhoid Mary and led to historic medical breakthroughs. Throughout time, humans have been terrified and fascinated by the plagues they've suffered from. Get Well Soon delivers the gruesome, morbid details of some of the worst plagues in human history, as well as stories of the heroic figures who fought to ease their suffering. With her signature mix of in-depth research and upbeat storytelling, and not a little dark humor, Jennifer Wright explores history's most gripping and deadly outbreaks."--

History's Worst Plagues and the Heroes Who Fought Them

Get Well Soon

Brooke Lonegan

Jennifer Wright does an amazing job of making reading about plagues oddly enjoyable, and at times comical where the situation allows. It was incredibly interesting, and even a little scary, to follow the history of plagues up to present day and learn about the effects of different communities' and leaders' responses to plagues throughout history. Hey world leaders, read this so we can survive the next plague plz.

altlovesbooks

"When the community as a whole swings into action, plagues can be overcome relatively swiftly. That almost never happens."

As 2020 bleeds seamlessly into 2021 for large parts of the world, this seemed like an appropriate read, particularly because it was written before the outbreak we're dealing with now. I was wondering how prescient this book would be in light of what we know now.... and it turns out, history continues to repeat itself. Who knew.

There's lots of good information in this book. I liked the inclusion of plagues I hadn't heard of before (hello Dancing Plague), and there was some good info here on everything included. What really ended up irking me more and more as the book went on was the tongue-in-cheek nature of the writing. I totally get wanting to make something serious and inherently sad and morbid like plagues into something more approachable for the average person, but I think the author went a little too far. Several times I kept mentally checking out because the author went on one of her tangents intended to ultimately draw a laugh from the reader rather than inform them. I also thought the chapter on Lobotomies -- while informative and something I didn't know much about aside from the general idea -- was a weird inclusion. Less a plague and more a psychotic guy mutilating brains. 

If you're willing and able to read through the "lets see how many jokes about syphilis we can fit in" nature of the book, there really is a lot of good information, from a high level at least. Otherwise, maybe pass on this one in favor of something more academic.

Matthew Zabel

There is little humor in human infectious disease epidemics. My limited experience with a serious infectious disease was back in 2014 while I was a postdoctoral fellow at the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, Maryland. The local and national news was abuzz with uneasy chatter of the Ebola virus outbreak, which had just hit its peak in West Africa. I remember the anxious excitement when a nurse from a Texas hospital, who had been treating an Ebola patient, contracted the virus and was transferred to the NIH Clinical Center. The ambulance transporting her — with a police escort — passed by Building 6 as our lab watched, essentially reverse-quarantined. Nurse Pham survived, but the thousands of Africans without advanced medical care were not so lucky. Their plight resembles more the plight of those who have suffered in epidemics we usually only find in history books. Such epidemics are the topic of Jennifer Wright’s approachable, at times snarky, but oddly funny book Get Well Soon: History’s Worst Plagues and the Heroes Who Fought Them (2017).

Epidemics have plagued humans for centuries (pun intended). It has been only recently that we have begun to understand ways to combat them. The scientific method has been the greatest driver of our recent success. In her book, Wright makes it very clear that although many plagues came before the development of the scientific method (usually credited to Roger Bacon, 1214–1284), several devastating ones came after. This was a disconcerting nugget of information. Wright describes, in her salty tone, how fear, irrational magical and sometimes religious beliefs ruled the methodologies of explaining epidemic phenomena. Many of these led to the purposeful murdering of those contracting a known plague pathogen. She is ruthless in berating charlatans, pseudoscientists, and religious fanatics profiting from their nonsensical treatments as well as the unethical scientists behind unconsenting human experimentation. A great example she gives is of the mystic Alexander of Abonoteichos who peddled his useless charms to victims of the Antonine plague. Although, at that time plague sufferers likely had no chance, charms — no charms. But the worst offenders were hucksters who actually caused more damage. A great example from the book is the introduction of the frontal lobotomy.

In medicine, we compare the risks and benefits of diagnostic and therapeutic interventions. There is no such thing as a drug without a side effect or a procedure without a complication or even a lab or imaging test without unintended consequences. Many times, just performing a diagnostic test can lead to unnecessary interventions. Needless to say, frontal lobotomies were not justified. Wright vividly describes the grotesque operations performed by the physician (not surgeon), Walter Jackson Freeman II and the resulting neurological sequelae:

‘After the operation Hammatt was free from anxiety. That said, after the operation she was also only able to flip through magazines and draw pictures. She misspelled words on her pictures when she tried to caption them. She wasn’t able to have a coherent conversation. She ultimately regained her ability to speak, although “her husband and maid did most of the work” around her home, according to Freeman. But she was very happy with the procedure and felt that she spent a lot less time worrying. She was even able to spend pleasant time with acquaintances she had before found extremely annoying. Freeman thought “the result was spectacular.”‘
This case had a relatively mild side effect profile compared to others. If you are squeamish, especially about eye sockets, this may be a good chapter to skip. Even Phineas Gage would have PTSD… And now you are definitely going to read this chapter.

From the Antonine plague, which included smallpox, to the bubonic plague, to the Spanish flu, and to leprosy, polio, syphilis and even the yet-to-be-determined etiology of encephalitis lethargica (check out Oliver Sacks’ Awakenings), Wright vividly describes the most interesting and devastating plagues that have wrought havoc on human populations throughout the centuries. She also includes the important scientists and even the community members who were pivotal in defeating the little nasties that cause human disease. Her conclusion is brief, but not subtle: we must learn from our worst mistakes in our brief history of fighting infectious disease (and unethical experimentation) if we are going to prepare ourselves for the next epidemic, or worse, pandemic. The review of this book seems quite poignant as this year marks the centennial of the 1918 H1N1 flu pandemic (Spanish flu) and the 50th anniversary of the 1968 H3N2 flu pandemic (Hong Kong flu), a cumulative death toll of which reached up to 50 million souls. May we continue to use science-based reasoning to fight our next infectious foe.

✨Tyler ✨

I'm not really sure why but the tone of this just felt off to me.

Julia Kane

A witty, irreverent tour of history's worst plagues—from the Antonine Plague, to leprosy, to polio—and a celebration of the heroes who fought them In 1518, in a small town in Alsace, Frau Troffea began dancing and didn’t stop. She danced until she was carried away six days later, and soon thirty-four more villagers joined her. Then more. In a month more than 400 people had been stricken by the mysterious dancing plague. In late-seventeenth-century England an eccentric gentleman founded the No Nose Club in his gracious townhome—a social club for those who had lost their noses, and other body parts, to the plague of syphilis for which there was then no cure. And in turn-of-the-century New York, an Irish cook caused two lethal outbreaks of typhoid fever, a case that transformed her into the notorious Typhoid Mary. Throughout time, humans have been terrified and fascinated by the diseases history and circumstance have dropped on them. Some of their responses to those outbreaks are almost too strange to believe in hindsight. Get Well Soon delivers the gruesome, morbid details of some of the worst plagues we’ve suffered as a species, as well as stories of the heroic figures who selflessly fought to ease the suffering of their fellow man. With her signature mix of in-depth research and storytelling, and not a little dark humor, Jennifer Wright explores history’s most gripping and deadly outbreaks, and ultimately looks at the surprising ways they’ve shaped history and humanity for almost as long as anyone can remember.

Get Well Soon History's Worst Plagues and the Heroes Who Fought Them

Reviews