Dr. Amelia Sorvino was a rising star as an obstetrician. Competent and confident, she successfully brought into the world some 1,500 babies.

Then a complication arose with the birth of little Miranda, born with cerebral palsy. Miranda's parents sued, blaming Sorvino for the defect. Struggling with deep self- doubts, Sorvino soon took the role of patient under the guidance of psychologist Dan Shapiro.

Delivering Doctor Amelia contains much more than the harrowing true story of Sorvino and her life's tragic turn. As author Shapiro ushers readers through Sorvino's therapy sessions, he spins ever-widening concentric circles that touch on fascinating issues in his own life and those of other patients.

We learn, for example, that the psychologist's Aunt Gwen died in a shocking suicide, which greatly stunted the development of the daughter she left behind. Watching this family crisis unfold, a young Shapiro felt compelled to make psychology his field of expertise so that he could step in and improve the outcomes of other people's lives. He expresses the decision eloquently:

"It was a revelation. That loss and trauma pass down through families like batons in relays, one to the next and then the next. And I wondered what it would be like to interrupt that baton. Stop the runners."

Shapiro, an assistant professor of clinical psychiatry at the University of Arizona and an expert on physician-patient relationships, also journeys into his own personal space. He shares intimate details of his five-year fight with cancer, a bone marrow transplant, chemotherapy and radiation.

While he wisely stocked some sperm beforehand to have a chance at children, his wife had trouble getting pregnant despite the many tedious infertility interventions. Both questioned their fertility doctor's competence in the matter, a judgment that spilled over to Shapiro's personal musings as to whether Dr. Sorvino really did all she could in the delivery room to prevent Miranda's cerebral palsy.

As Dr. Sorvino battles suicidal feelings and outspokenly tears herself down, another of Shapiro's clients, a young cancer patient named Charlotte, puts on a brave face over a very difficult issue - the loss of a leg through amputation. The author juxtaposes the girl's confidence in dealing with this setback with Dr. Amelia's emotional frailty despite her prominence as a doctor.

Unused to being the patient, Sorvino has fits and starts in her therapy. She's convinced herself that she's really a fraud as a doctor and that she must give up medicine. Shapiro offers the following analogy in guiding her through the thorny internal thicket of her emotions.

"Therapy is like a long winter drive," he says. "You'll know where we need to go better than I, so you'll take the wheel and I'll sit in the passenger seat. While driving, you'll have your eyes on the road. From my vantage I may notice landscapes you haven't studied before, and together, we'll find our way to warmer climes."

Shapiro clearly shines as a gifted physician and an expressive author. His writing ambles competently from page to page, dishing insights in carefully measured, melodic prose.

The underlying message is one of human frailty, compassion and a better understanding that we all are somehow responsible for one another.

Verna Noel Jones is a freelance writer living in Aurora.