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justalli 's review for:
Being Mortal
by Atul Gawande
emotional
hopeful
informative
reflective
sad
medium-paced
This book broke me open in the best way possible.
Being Mortal isn’t just about medicine or aging—it’s about what it means to be human when faced with the limits of our bodies, our minds, our time, and our choices. It’s a reflection on how we live, how we die, and what makes life worth living right up until the end.
While reading this book, I kept thinking of my Grandma, who passed away from ovarian cancer this past October. When she made the decision to forego chemotherapy, I was heartbroken—and, if I’m honest, confused. I didn’t understand why she would choose hospice over continuing to fight. But through Dr. Gawande’s words, I began to see that she wasn’t giving up at all. She was choosing to live her final days on her terms—with dignity, less pain, and the quiet courage to face what lay ahead.
She understood something I couldn’t grasp at the time: that sometimes, real strength means accepting our mortality, not clinging to something that will inevitably end. She was already in chronic pain, and didn’t want to suffer through rounds of chemotherapy with no real promise it would improve her quality of life. This book gave me a new lens—one that helped me see her choice for what it truly was: an act of strength, bravery, and deep wisdom.
This book gave me a deepened appreciation for the courage it takes to choose quality of life over simply prolonging it. This line from the book really shook me, “those who saw a palliative care specialist stopped chemotherapy sooner, entered hospice far earlier, experienced less suffering at the end of their lives—and they lived 25 percent longer."
People with serious illness often live *longer—and better—*when their care honors what they truly want, not just how much time they have left. They want to be mentally aware. To avoid being a burden. To feel that their life is complete. These are not medical problems—but they are deeply human ones. And they’re so easily overlooked when medicine focuses only on fixing what’s broken, instead of supporting what matters.
Reading this book felt like receiving a gift—a gentle but profound reframing of mortality, not as something to avoid at all costs, but as a final chapter worthy of intention, honesty, and even grace. I’m thinking differently now—not just about death, but about how we live. About the trade-offs we make. The dreams we hold onto. The fears we eventually learn to lay down.
If you’re ready for a book that quietly upends the way we think about aging, illness, and the end of life, Being Mortal is essential reading. Bring tissues—and maybe call someone you love when you’re done.
Being Mortal isn’t just about medicine or aging—it’s about what it means to be human when faced with the limits of our bodies, our minds, our time, and our choices. It’s a reflection on how we live, how we die, and what makes life worth living right up until the end.
While reading this book, I kept thinking of my Grandma, who passed away from ovarian cancer this past October. When she made the decision to forego chemotherapy, I was heartbroken—and, if I’m honest, confused. I didn’t understand why she would choose hospice over continuing to fight. But through Dr. Gawande’s words, I began to see that she wasn’t giving up at all. She was choosing to live her final days on her terms—with dignity, less pain, and the quiet courage to face what lay ahead.
She understood something I couldn’t grasp at the time: that sometimes, real strength means accepting our mortality, not clinging to something that will inevitably end. She was already in chronic pain, and didn’t want to suffer through rounds of chemotherapy with no real promise it would improve her quality of life. This book gave me a new lens—one that helped me see her choice for what it truly was: an act of strength, bravery, and deep wisdom.
This book gave me a deepened appreciation for the courage it takes to choose quality of life over simply prolonging it. This line from the book really shook me, “those who saw a palliative care specialist stopped chemotherapy sooner, entered hospice far earlier, experienced less suffering at the end of their lives—and they lived 25 percent longer."
People with serious illness often live *longer—and better—*when their care honors what they truly want, not just how much time they have left. They want to be mentally aware. To avoid being a burden. To feel that their life is complete. These are not medical problems—but they are deeply human ones. And they’re so easily overlooked when medicine focuses only on fixing what’s broken, instead of supporting what matters.
Reading this book felt like receiving a gift—a gentle but profound reframing of mortality, not as something to avoid at all costs, but as a final chapter worthy of intention, honesty, and even grace. I’m thinking differently now—not just about death, but about how we live. About the trade-offs we make. The dreams we hold onto. The fears we eventually learn to lay down.
If you’re ready for a book that quietly upends the way we think about aging, illness, and the end of life, Being Mortal is essential reading. Bring tissues—and maybe call someone you love when you’re done.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Cancer, Death, Terminal illness, Death of parent
Moderate: Cancer, Death, Drug use, Blood, Excrement, Dementia
Minor: Suicide