God, this book is so blatantly manipulative, and it tells you exactly what it's going to do, and then it does that thing, and then you're weeping in an airport lounge even though you full well knew
what was going to happen, so you're kind of mad at yourself AND the book, and everyone's a little bit sharper and snappier than they are in real life, and people often say that's a bad
thing in reviews, but I like reading about sharp, snappy people, so there.
It's like Lurlene McDaniel and Joss Whedon had a lovechild in the form of a book.
Also, so much of the non-medical angst and drama in this book could have been avoided if the characters had just learned to embrace fanfic. Better living through telling your own stories, folks.