Everything Is Tuberculosis: The History and Persistence of Our Deadliest Infection

i have pthisiophobia, or the pathological fear of tuberculosis—but not in the sense that i’m terrorized of idea that i will contract it. rather in the sense that i am hyperfocused on keeping track of tuberculosis; like someone else might obsessively check the weather. i’m not sure where my phobia comes from. i couldn’t tell you the day i realized tuberculosis existed or the day when i realized it wasn’t gone. i grew up near a sanatorium and my great grandfather eventually died from tuberculosis, none of which seems to have actually caused my phobia. so i can’t explain it in any meaningful way. ultimately, this all ends with me spending cumulative days tracking outbreaks, checking generic production and emergent drug development statuses, and watching in abject horror as we continue to CHOOSE to let people die. and all of this before covid 19 was identified. so color me surprised when an author i loathed (sorry) for no inherent reason (except the anne frank house kiss) wrote a book about something so important to me that no one else in my life really understands. because as an american, absolutely none of my friends knew before i told them that tuberculosis hadn’t actually been cured. this book is everything to me and yet nothing i didn’t already know. but i know what it’s going to mean for anyone who has lived with the privilege of thinking tuberculosis is gone. so thank you john green for writing a bestselling romance novel where they inexplicably kiss in the anne frank house, because that ended up making you write this with your very well known name plastered right on the front. and as you know, your name is a megaphone.