Title: Wet My Hands
Author: Dr. A.H. Yurvati
Publisher: Fulton Books
ISBN: 978-1639857883
Pages: 80
Genre: Non Fiction
Reviewed by: David Allen
Hollywood Book Reviews
Back in the day, Rabbi Harold Kushner published When Bad Things Happen to Good People. This was a book whose time had come: millions of readers basked in the instant recognition and comfort offered by the sage rabbi regarding their own crises, catastrophes, and dilemmas.
Well, time does not heal all wounds. In fact, succeeding generations have gone on, if anything, to endure more slings and more arrows of outrageous fortune…suffering disaster, aftershocks, trauma, and all the glorious rest. Succeeding generations of good people, no less!
Wet My Hands is one man’s testament to surviving and if we may be so bold actually thriving despite his time under the proverbial wheel. Dr. Yurvati began in life much like the rest of us – that is to say, humbly, not particularly expecting great things to happen – but as he plowed along, as he tried his hardest to do his best (first as a student, then as a military nurse/medic, then as a renowned cardiothoracic surgeon), things gradually fell into place.
Yurvati’s energy and integrity shone through. At some point the giant leaps in personal progress – from penury to personal homeowner, then on to philanthropist benefactor, always giving generously of his time (repairing children’s congenital heart defects in the Balkan countries) and money – became rote, almost predictable. You reap what you sow…or don’t you?
Ask Harold Kushner. Ask the author of Wet My Hands. Who among us could have predicted that, following upon the heels of a successful career and loving marriage, such a person could be grievously struck down? First griefs first: the love of Yurvati’s life, also an army medic, is leveled first by a gynecological cancer, then by a massive stroke. If that weren’t enough, these low blows are followed by Yurvati’s discovery that he too is a cancer victim. In the process of lifting a lawn mower onto a flatbed truck, he pathologically fractures his lumbar spine. (‘Pathological’ fractures are often caused by malignancies hiding out in bones.) Dr. Yurvati was a case of multiple myeloma of the spine, complicated by a potentially fatal vertebral break.
It hardly matters, in the larger context of this rare and excellent memoir of a couple’s struggle against pain and chaos, that Dr. and Mrs. Yurvati, at least as of this writing, are doing well, that Mrs. Yurvati is in remission. Their personal survival is incidental to the most important message of the book. “It hardly matters” because their battle to overcome all odds, to have a life despite all the setbacks and discouragements, is a manna-message to readers everywhere. The book’s conversational tone is avuncular, breezy, and reminds this reader of Norman Cousins’ Anatomy of An Illness – a comparable tidbit in the smorgasbord of healing and living well.
Oh – and why “Wet My Hands”? Wet my hands is what one surgeon tells his scrub nurse, in order that his sutures tie super tight. This is a heartwarming memoir that contains treasured memories of family, love, and fulfillment. I also believe that family members and medical professionals will gain a great deal of information and more empathy when interacting with individuals who have this diagnosis. Wet My Hands by Dr. A.H. Yurvati is a powerful book that offers hope that, no matter what happens, tomorrow just might be a better day.