You're Not You

Bec is a college student who is not sure she’s still interested in her major, working as a part-time waitress, and involved with a married man. Hoping to make some extra money over the summer, she answers an ad looking for a caregiver / helper for a woman suffering from ALS and is hired despite (or perhaps because of) her lack of relevant experience.

Kate is not an elderly person, but a vibrant 36-year-old former advertising executive now confined to a motorized wheelchair and having to rely on someone to bathe, dress and feed her. Slowly Bec becomes adept at the required tasks and comes to look on Kate as a friend and mentor.

This was at times very difficult to read. I could see Bec identifying more and more with Kate, and Kate show more relying on Bec as one would a best friend rather than an employed helper. And yet, Kate, kept a certain distance, because only she could, after all, truly experience this debilitating and ultimately terminal condition.

The title comes from an incident where Bec is speaking for Kate, whose speech is garbled at best. Kate, dissatisfied with Bec’s interpretation, informs her that when Bec is “translating” for Kate “You’re not you. You’re me.”

I knew “that scene” was coming and could hardly bear to watch it play out. And yet, there were still fifty pages to read. Fifty short pages for the author to resolve Bec’s grief and her sense of purpose. For her to find the path forward again.

It’s a great debut, and I’d be interested in reading more of her works. show less

This was a subtle, emotionally complex novel about a woman's relationship to self and others. The main character, Bec, is an aimless college student having an affair with a married professor. Taking a break from school, she gets a job as a caretaker for Kate, a young married woman with ALS. She performs intimate functions for her, often speaks for her, and becomes bonded with her to the point of identity confusion.

Bec is hard to like, especially when she's screwing around with someone else's husband. But regardless of any judgment the reader makes, it is easy to empathize with her as she gets more and more involved in Kate's life and Kate's feelings. I don't want to reveal too much of the plot - not that the book is extraordinarily show more plotty - but I will point out that I enjoyed the motif of food threading through the book.As the story progresses, Bec starts to find herself as a very talented cook - while in the employ of a woman surviving with a feeding tube. show less

I always enjoy books set in places I know, so I liked this one set in Madison. But that's just the background setting--The book itself is also great. College student Rebecca (though everyone calls her Bec) falls into a job as caregiver for a disabled woman living with fast-progressing ALS. It is almost unsettling how their friendship develops, and how Bec almost begins to lose herself in Kate; almost living her life FOR her: taking her shopping and to the farmers' market, raising money for ALS research, interpreting her speech to others. . . . Meanwhile Bec's own life is in chaos--she is uninterested in her classes and her major, she has a distant relationship with her parents, and she is in an affair with a married professor. Oddly, show more the caregiver job, though difficult and unusual, helps her to eventually rethink her life choices.

Wildgen writes about people, places, feelings, and relationships in a way that rings so true and honest. I could not put this book down. show less

I loved this book about an unlikely 21 year old girl who becomes a personal caregiver for a woman in her mid-thirties with ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease). The disease takes this woman, Kate, from the healthy prime of her life to paralyzed in a wheelchair barely able to speak in just a couple short years - however, she still maintains her dignity, personality, even a bit of independence. Bec, her caregiver, becomes so intimately involved with every aspect of this woman's life that she almost loses her own identity, but she eventually gains a lot from her relationship with Kate. This book even touches on the sexual needs of a disabled individual - not many books go there. Somehow this book manages be very insightful, compassionate and even show more funny at times without being depressing or preachy about life with a chronic illness. show less

Nancy Pearl recommended this book on her radio segment, so I had to give it a try. I was very impressed by Wildgen's skill with narrative. Each page seemed carefully constructed to put the reader in Bec's shoes; when Bec was uncomfortable, I was uncomfortable. A simple and moving story of a caregiver and the woman she looks after, this book never strays into treacly, feel-good territory. Instead, Wildgen presents Kate's decline realistically and honestly, and does a brilliant job doing so.

Twenty-something Bec, a college student at at loose-ends, becomes caregiver to ALS victim Kate in her affluent, gourmet world when husband departs and Bec's involvement grows. Well-captured characters in a touching first novel.

While I truly enjoyed this book, I've been thinking about it for awhile trying to figure out how to say what I want to about it. I liked the three main characters, Bec, Kate and Kate's husband, right from the start. Bec is a self-absorbed college student who begins working to help Kate, who suffers from advanced ALS, as a home aide. Bec comes off as a smart, strong woman at the beginning but as the book progresses we find that Kate is the strongest of all of them, even, or because of, her health issues. The dissolving of the marriage between Kate and her husband is not handled well, he just kind of disappears and is rather hateful in the one spot he does reappear. It didn't feel at all right. . Once Kate leaves the story I found it very show more hard to read. It felt like the author wasn't sure what to do with Bec after the backbone of the book is gone. I don't always need a book to be wrapped up with a shiny bow, but this book just feels like it stops. I would still recommend it, just with some reservations. show less