In the kind of weird coincidence that would seemingly come out of film adapted from a John Green story, on the very day I was winding down my time with Green's "Everything Is Tuberculosis: The History and Persistence of Our Deadliest Infection," I received word that a longtime friend of mine had, in fact, been diagnosed with TB.

The good news for this friend, I suppose, is that she lives in the United States where both prevention and treatment for TB are both readily available. In all likelihood, she will easily survive this disease.

As is stated over and over again throughout "Everything Is Tuberculosis," many others will not survive the disease despite the fact that testing and treatment have been available since the 1950s and increasingly common and effective.

In Green's simplest terms, we have the ability to cure TB. We don't have the political will to do so.

For an author long recognized as one of the most popular YA novelists, it may seem surprising that Green would tackle a book on tuberculosis. I can't help but think those surprised have never really immersed themselves in Green's world, both literature and social media, as Green has long immersed himself in the ways that we're interconnected and the power that we have to change lives.

It's a theme that is common throughout "Everything Is Tuberculosis," a book that finds its heart-and-soul in the story of young Henry Reider, whom Green met at Sierra Leone's Lakka Government Hospital. Green avoids the saccharine romanticizing of Henry's story, instead constantly maintaining Henry's humanity as he fights to survive TB in a nation with only the barest minimum of treatments. In similar books, the author would dare to draw a connection between themselves and the character's outcome - Green is far too wise and has far too much integrity to do so. Instead, Green paints a vivid portrait of the struggle and the doctors working to do something about it against seemingly insurmountable odds.

We get to know Henry and we come to admire his fiercely loyal mother Isatu, a woman who works hours upon hours upon hours to raise funds for Henry's care. It's their story that serves as the emotional foundation for "Everything Is Tuberculosis," however, it's Green who tells the story with insight, intelligence, and compassion.

Green's approach to this story is surprisingly simple. Green focuses his storytelling lens on Henry and the various people he encounters, both other patients and medical professionals, along the way. However, Green also paints an engaging and convicting portrait of how TB became a disease associated with those who are economically poor and why no one is now doing anything about it despite the ability to do so.

"Everything Is Tuberculosis" is a weaving together of deep compassion, historical analysis, and rich yet accessible scientific analysis. Green's "Everything Is Tuberculosis" leans not just into the way things are but how they could be using the STP (Search, Treat, Prevent) framework. As a writer who's long used his social media presence for good (as a footless guy, I sure wish I needed socks), Green creates a framework for change and then gives us accounts of those who are slowly and frustratingly but most definitely creating that change.

As a creative and an activist who lives in Green's adopted hometown of Indianapolis, I think perhaps no statement in "Everything Is Tuberculosis" sums up Green as both writer and human being than a statement he makes in the book - "How can I accept a world where over a million people will die this year for want of a cure that has existed for nearly a century?"

Indeed, "Everything Is Tuberculosis" is a book about tuberculosis. It's also more. It's about who we are as human beings. It's about how we're connected and how we choose to disconnect. It's about the simple wonder of being human and the big and small ways we can make the world a better place if and when we choose to do so.

To his credit, though Green would likely be hesitant to take such credit, "Everything Is Tuberculosis" ultimately makes us want to do so.

Written by Richard Propes
The Independent Critic