“In Head Cases, Mason deftly conveys the frustrations and inequities of traumatic brain injury . . . Mason describes the day-to-day life on a brain injury ward, where the staff may wear kickboxing pads into one patient’s room, rain gear into another’s. He explains that emotional tears, unlike the tears produced by, say, cutting an onion, contain manganese; since depressed people have high manganese levels, one theory holds that crying helps lower the levels. Mason describes a trip to Iraq and its miraculous Balad Hospital, where Air Force surgeons have treated the bulk of the 10,000 traumatic head injuries the war on terror has so far occasioned (and that’s just the American heads) . . . Mason performs a valuable service by calling attention to the plight of the brain injured . . . I had come to think of neurological dysfunction as an almost fanciful affliction, its victims like characters in a work of magical realism. Mason has provided a needed, and sobering, account of reality.”—Mary Roach, The New York Times Book Review

“In these cases, and several others like them, Mr. Mason’s accomplishment is formidable, restoring to each subject a measure of human dignity, achieving through sympathy and curiosity insight like that which pulses through genuine literature. These are not people whose lives have ended, he suggests, only changed, and we recognize in their jagged, altered lives something like allegories for our own experience.”—Casey Schwartz, The New York Sun

“As a writer, Mr. Mason stakes out a position midway between Oliver Sacks and Oprah Winfrey. He goes light on the science, presenting his case studies primarily as human dramas. We meet the loved ones, revisit the hometowns, relive in minute detail the horrific accidents that caused the injuries.”—William Grimes, The New York Times

“Vivid, heartbreaking [and] movingly written.”—The Seattle Times

“These stories are really engaging and would be enlightening to any neuroscientist who wants to find out more about the human outcomes of brain injury . . . A passionate series of vignettes that sympathetically illuminates what happens to people after brain injury.”—Nature Neuroscience 

“Mason’s words will touch your heart but more importantly open your eyes to the harsh realities endured by mounting numbers of traumatic brain injury survivors.”—Michael Wallis, Tulsa World

“Mason visited Iraq, so his experiences will give readers information they’ve been sheltered from too long. But no less vivid, heartbreaking or movingly written are other cases. In ‘The Hermit of Hollywood Boulevard,’ for instance, a snowboard crash left a young man with more than 120 seizures monthly. After exhausting his options as well as his family’s finances, he committed himself to a psychiatric crisis unit, his only venue for free care.”—Irene Wanner, The Seattle Times

“There’s no shortage of books on neurological patients with brain injuries, but Head Cases, . . .  is one of my recent favorites. Mason brings a unique perspective to the tragic tales, as he’s not a neurologist or a neuroscientist. Instead, he’s a brain injury case manager based in Tulsa, Oklahoma, so the stories are as much about the bureaucratic maze of insurance claims as they are about the hippocampus.”—Jonah Lehrer, author of Proust was a Neuroscientist

“Mr. Mason, with the compassion and astute observation of a skilled case worker, relates story after story that are as captivating and inspiring as they are sobering and heartbreaking.”—Dr. Walt Larimore, co-author of His Brain, Her Brain

“Using the words and actions of brain injury survivors, Head Cases poignantly chronicles the everyday struggles, search for help, and hope for recovery after traumatic brain injury.  Mason brings educated insight to readers who are blissfully unaware of the life-altering, often debilitating, aftermath of neurotrauma.  Head Cases is a must-read glimpse into what life with brain injury is really like.”—Susan Connors, President, Brain Injury Association of America

“Mason describes in detail the devastating effects of brain damage, the myriad ways the brain tries to compensate for that damage, and the frustrations of trying to get appropriate care. Mason writes that the patients he represents ‘may not even know I exist.’ But he is, as he puts it, their v