I stayed up late last night finishing Porochista Khakpour’s memoir of her life of intermittent unexplained illnesses, culminating in an eventual diagnosis of late-stage Lyme Disease. And now the usual conundrum - how do you talk about a book review after someone shares so deeply their life story? I was quite moved by Khakpour’s story, and I appreciate that she’s sharing a narrative that’s as yet still unresolved. I gather the original intention of this memoir was for it to be a story of post-remission triumph, but instead it wove itself into an extensive backstory with no concrete conclusion. Though she notes she stripped the story bare of details extraneous to her specific experience, I learned viscerally the experience of struggling with undiagnosed illness and the anguish of being dismissed by professionals as delusional about her physical symptoms. Khakpour speaks important words too about how race and gender factored into her experience of care. I’m grateful for this book and to Khakpour for sharing so personally a multifaceted journey with all its loose ends intact.