Leigh Hatcher's autobiographical book focuses heavily on his experience of the much-maligned Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Hatcher's account of the physical pain, exhaustion and suffering involved left me with little doubt that this mystery illness simply hasn't been linked to its physical cause yet by medical science.

Hatcher speaks forcefully about the damage done by well meaning people who thought what he was going through was "all in the mind". In doing so, he does much to raise awareness of the physical nature of CFS; but unfortunately rebuttal will do little to de-stigmatise mental illness, which is every bit as real to those who suffer from it. To Hatcher, the suggestion that his illness could be psychological in nature was hugely destructive and stigmatising. We are still far from fully understanding the inner workings of the human mind, and I found it interesting that Hatcher had such a strongly reaction to people who were sceptical of the physical nature of his illness. Rather than just dismissing them as being ill-informed, he found their opinions damaging in their own right.

Anyone suffering from CFS will welcome Hatcher's openness and be able to relate to the debilitating effects of the condition; friends and relatives of someone with CFS would also do well to check it out and find that there's more to this nasty ailment than simply feeling tired all the time.

I'm Not Crazy, I'm Just A Little Unwell is available online in Australia at SeekBooks.com.au

This relatively short, easy to read book describes the author's physical, psychological and emotional recovery from a near fatal traffic accident while on his routine drive to work.

I got the feeling that Tony Moore has only just scratched the surface of describing the tumultuous emotions which came to the surface when his previous busy life was halted and replaced with one where initially survival took precedence over everything else. And later on with the enforced suspension of his career he had the time to start dealing with emotional, personal and spiritual issues which many of us manage to push to the back burner in our business. The book seemed somewhat fragmented and a little detached to me, which perhaps reflects his state of mind during the period described.

One of the most interesting points for me was the author's almost clichéd change of priorities and mindset about what was important in life as a result of his near-death accident. Most of us never take time out to contemplate these things, and it is clear that Tony's new life is richer for it; despite the agony that he endured in the smash and subsequent rehabilitation. The book will also appeal to anyone recovering from chronic or long-term illness. It speaks candidly about the impact of friends, relatives and other well-meaning visitors many of whom helped the author tremendously in his struggles, and others who were at best a hindrance.

It is clear that one of the issues Tony dealt with in his recovery is the emotional pain, and he speaks about the difficulties that this presented and the barrier he erected around himself by trying to keep this pain within. At one point a social worker attempts to make contact and is rebuffed. I wondered whether he eventually made use of professional psychological help during his recovery, but if he did so this isn't explicitly stated. As a health worker himself, he appeared to have no difficulty surrendering to those who were working to ensure his physical survival and recovery, but the book hints that those working towards his psychological and emotional health either had difficulty getting through or just weren't as available. Towards the end he makes the strong point that the rehabilitation system needs to care for the whole needs of the patient, not just the physical; but I wonder what it is to do when seeking emotional or psychological support, especially for men, is so stigmatised in society in general.

This book is a fascinating read with insights for people who have been injured in motor vehicle accidents themselves and their loved ones.