Growing up, reading was always a default for me when I got bored, and I never tired of exploring magical worlds so different from my own. Fiction literature is a beautiful way to reflect real world issues and scenarios in a fun, far-fetched way. Despite this, in my recent library trips, I’ve been going towards the nonfiction area more and more, coming out with more books of various topics that never cease to amaze me. This past month, I’ve picked up two books I would like to share with you—both on the tragedies of disease and the failures of the American medical system: The Kissing Bug by Daisy Hernández, and Bitten by Kris Newby.
The Kissing Bug by Daisy Hernández

Part memoir, part investigative journalism, and part scientific history, Daisy Hernández’s The Kissing Bug, shed new light for me on Chagas disease—often disregarded as the “disease of the poor.” Caused by a parasite transmitted by the kissing bug, Chagas affects millions, yet Hernández exposes how the deep-set racial and economic biases of the U.S. medical system have left it completely overlooked. At the heart of this heavy critique is the tragic death of the author’s own aunt, which was heartbreakingly woven into the story and served as the perfect emotional anchor for the book. I loved how Hernández used this profound family grief to transform cold, abstract medical data into a deeply personal human story to reach her audience. She clearly shows how our healthcare system has callously prioritized treatment based on a patient’s socioeconomic status, rather than their actual medical needs. It is a stunning, eye-opening investigative journey; I felt like I was right there with her as she went into the field to track down the bugs, talk to the patients, and interview underfunded scientists, ignored community members, and medical doctors who candidly admit they were never even taught about the disease in school.
Bitten by Kris Newby

On the other side of the same coin, Kris Newby’s Bitten completely blew my mind with its extensive look at the controversial world of tick-borne illnesses. Written as a scientific memoir driven by deep research, the book focuses on how the modern, debilitating epidemic of Lyme disease is repeatedly disregarded by medical institutions today. Like Hernández, Newby starts with an intense personal trauma—she and her husband fell mysteriously and catastrophically ill after tick bites, and her immense frustration radiated from the pages as she described how dismissive the medical community was toward chronic Lyme sufferers. From there, Newby becomes a Scooby-Doo detective of sorts, and I was hooked as she dove into declassified military archives, unearthing terrifying documents about open-air germ warfare testing during the Cold War. My personal favorite part is a powerful series of interviews with Willy Burgdorfer, the actual discoverer of the Lyme bacterium. Watching her piece together his final, cryptic deathbed confessions made the book feel like a thriller, while still anchoring it in reality. This book was so thought-provoking, and I feel it exhibits so well that books can be nonfiction and informative while still providing a fun read.
My verdict is in: this is a 10/10 method of learning something new, improving your reading prowess, and having fun in a new genre. I recommend you check out a random non-fiction book next time you go book-browsing! What you find may surprise you.
