Head Case

February 15, 2015
The story of a woman with a hole in her brain the size of a lemon.We meet Cohen when she is 26 years old. For many of those years, she has suffered from disorientation, exhaustion, and not knowing left from right, which in turn have given her a shattering combination of insecurity, fear, shame, anxiety and panic. "I can't judge distance, time, or space, read maps, travel independently without getting lost; or drive...you would never realize that as I'm walking next to you down the street, you are leading us both," she writes. The author is verbally dexterous, however, and her memoir is rich with yearning and ache, conveying a scrunched sense of claustrophobia and imagery of cinematic quality. Throughout the book, Cohen ably conveys the gravity of her condition: "Being a fuck-up is an excuse as flimsy as it is sturdy. It's a container for the cluttered detritus of all my smaller mistakes"; "I am thrown into the adult world like a match into gasoline. Burning down everything in my path is an organic reaction." This is the story of her days from her first diagnosis-with digressions into her youth, when doctors were clueless about the causes of her condition-until today, in her early 30s. She follows her tracks through college and dialectical behavioral therapy, her tender and grueling first real romantic relationship, graduate school in writing, and the simple, everyday activities that spook her, such as walking out the door. This is not a short period of time, and the writing has a vital compression and severity, which is likely the result of a lifetime of an "anger, sadness, and pain...so epic as to only be properly graphed seismically." The author also delivers flashes of humor to add levity to the proceedings. A beautifully wrenching memoir as piercing as smelling salts.

December 1, 2015

All of her life, Cole Cohen has struggled with being different. Educators and doctors failed to categorize her particular type of learning disabilities, marked by difficulties with time, space, and numbers. She got lost in a supermarket just as easily as en route to a familiar destination. Driving was an impossibility, as was taking public transportation without planning and practice. Cohen relates the particulars of her highly unusual eventual diagnosis in this fascinating memoir. An MRI when she was 26 finally revealed that she had a large hole in her brain, described by the neurologist as the size of a lemon. The void is located in Cohen's parietal lobe, which affects spatial sense, navigation, and mathematical ability. Ultimately, her diagnosis is a relief, giving her essential information about who she is. Why couldn't she seem to keep even the most basic of jobs? Why was money such a mystery? Luckily, she has parents who serve as a strong support system, allowing her to have a relatively independent life. Readers can't help but marvel at how adept Cohen is with written language and how evocatively she tells her story with pathos and wit. She discusses making her way in the world, from difficulties with various college roommates to a tempestuous relationship with the brother of a friend. VERDICT Fans of well-written memoirs, especially those that focus on overcoming affliction, will be fascinated by Cohen's honest, emotional story.-Paula J. Gallagher, Baltimore County Public Library, MD

Copyright 2015 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

May 1, 2015
A lemon-size hole in her brain prevents Cohen from accurately judging time and space but not from writing beautifully. She even maintains a sense of humor about it all. When she applies for Social Security benefits that will allow her to live independently from her parents, she tries to impress her interviewer, even while categorizing herself on the forms under impairments, mental. She has no idea how many hours she worked, so she tries to check her notes to answer everything correctly. This interview is for the job of being disabled, and yet still I'm masking, trying to appear as together' as possible, Cohen writes wryly. She dates a guy named Charlie, who at one point tells her he has never met anyone from outer space before. Ouch. She talks movingly about living with an invisible disability. Because Cohen looks normal, she feels embarrassed when she flashes her Medicare card for disabled bus riders. Though her specific condition is extremely rare, it's very easy to identify with her and to cheer for her.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2015, American Library Association.)