DUST DEVIL
As urban sprawl spreads into the desert, a deadly disease has been kicked up with the dust
By Annette Stark
As urban sprawl spreads into the desert, a deadly disease has been kicked up with the dust
Bakersfield resident Lori Miller has seen a lot of Valley Fever. The first time she watched a family member die of the disease was in 1986. "My husband's cousin Mark went through several years of treatment, but the symptoms kept getting more serious," she recalls. "Eventually, he developed spinal meningitis. At that point, there wasn't much the doctors could do."
Mark Simmons died at age 22. In '92, another one of Miller's cousins developed the disease during pregnancy. "Pregnancy is when you are most vulnerable," Miller explains. "She died two years after she had the baby and left four children behind." The doctor in the office where Miller worked got it next. "I'll never forget. He walked in, threw his car keys on the desk and said, 'Don't panic; take me to the hospital. I think I'm having a heart attack.'"
A few years later, Miller went to work for her church, the New Life Center in Bakersfield, presided over by Pastor James Ranger. Eventually, she noticed that Ranger, whom she describes as initially "energetic, a great communicator and visionary" had become listless. "Because it was so unlike his nature, we felt something was wrong and had him tested." Valley Fever again. In fact, when CityBeat contacted Pastor Ranger at home, we learned this is his second bout with the disease; he has been ill for almost three months. Lori Miller is worried sick. "I've stood at funerals and watched it take lives," she says.
Lori Miller's experience may be extreme, but Valley Fever is not a product of her imagination. Miller lives in Kern County, which has experienced numerous incidents of the disease since it was first identified in the 1930s, but according to a March 26 article in the Los Angeles Times, more than 70 cases have been reported in Ventura County since October. San Diego County has reported at least 30 cases. And some Southern California health practitioners are theorizing that the disease will continue to spread as a result of the Fall 2003 wildfires that scorched the ground, removing plants and ground covers, thus allowing the pathogen that causes Valley Fever to become airborne.
It lives in the dirt. According to the national Center for Disease Control, the fungus that causes Valley Fever - technical name: Coccidioides immitis - is "prevalent in the soil of most semiarid areas," such as Kern County (which includes Bakersfield), Phoenix, and other dry areas of the Southwestern United States, Mexico and South America. (The Arizona Department of Health Services has reported an increase from 11.5 infections per 100,000 residents in '92 to 57 per 100,000 in 2002.) Valley Fever is widely believed to be caused by spores in soil that can become airborne due to a variety of conditions: Droughts, subdivisions, earthquakes, and forest fires have all been blamed.
Valley Fever infections rose significantly in Ventura County following the Northridge earthquake, and questions about its ability to affect Los Angeles residents remain unanswered, mostly because the airborne disease has shown up in some unusual places. "People think they're safe because they live by the ocean, but it's very light and it can travel many miles in the air," says Sandra Larson, communication coordinator for the Valley Fever Vaccine Project of the Americas. Larson has been active in the cause since 1996 and is currently working on raising funds to test a new vaccine. "The spore doesn't need dust to travel. It's smaller than dust. Cleaners have been known to come down with this, because it's on the clothes."
Valley Fever is not, however, contagious through human contact. Even in Arizona, where the disease is more prevalent than in California and dogs appear to be particularly affected, most sufferers might only think they're afflicted with a head cold and will get well.
Dr. Tom Larwood has specialized in internal medicine in Bakersfield since the late '50s. A resident physician at what is now Kern Medical Center, Larwood saw many incidents of Valley Fever, especially since he was in practice with Dr. Hans Einstein, a long-recognized expert who served in many hospitals, including USC Medical Center. Larwood points out that the symptoms usually mimic the flu. "It almost always enters the body through the lungs and most people just think they have a flu. Usually there is a feeling of more-than-usual aching, which is how it got its nickname early on as desert rheumatism. Sometimes there are bumps on the skin, and that's more suspicious."
The pathogen stays localized in the victim's lungs and chances are excellent that it can be suppressed - or even eradicated - with antifungal medicines like Diflucan. The treatment is expensive, about $800 per month, but effective. However, on the occasions it does spread, or disseminate, from the lungs to the blood, it can cause swelling of the brain, blindness, meningitis, and even death. According to the CDC, those at highest risk for the disease are "African-Americans and Asians, pregnant women during the third trimester, and immuno-compromised persons." In someone suffering from AIDS, the mortality rate from the disease is high.
"We're not trying to scare people," says Larwood. "The good news is most people don't know they have it and will get well. The bad news is a few people get really sick. For the one person in 20 who gets it, it becomes disseminated, and one in ten of those will die."
Larwood dismisses speculation that Los Angeles is safe from the disease. Not every corner is paved, and environmental changes can cause the pathogen to spread easily in the air. "The reporting figures will be slow coming in from Los Angeles and people aren't thinking about it, so they might not get diagnosed. The Northridge quake turned up a lot. We know about other areas, because there were studies done in one of the camps near Saugus and Newhall, and it's prevalent there. Simi Valley is a likely spot, too. But you can potentially get cases all over L.A. because the wind blows everywhere."
Unlike polio or smallpox, Valley Fever cannot be eradicated; it will always be in the soil and requires a vaccine, notes Mike Cooper, the chairman of the Valley Fever Vaccine Project of the Americas since its inception in 1995. "We're so close to having that vaccine, but yet so far away. We've raised in excess of $12 million, and now have something that is successful on mice, but we're running out of money."
"These last five days were what I call good days," says Pastor Ranger. "The bad days, the fatigue gets me. The lungs, it's like an elephant sitting on my chest." Prior to contracting the fever, Ranger was in charge of 23 churches from Pismo Beach to Riverside. "I've had to hand all that over. A lot of what I do is solving problems, but now I have to be more on an even keel. I went to our yearly convention and had to stay in bed all day long just so I could go out to our evening service." The Valley Fever Vaccine Project of the Americas has raised almost $13 million to develop a vaccine. Another $2.5 million is needed to bring the vaccine to the point of human testing, and since the disease is mainly here in the Southwest, the Project must rely heavily on community awareness for funds. "This is critical," Sandra Larson explains. "We hope to do it by 2005."
Published: 06/17/2004
As urban sprawl spreads into the desert, a deadly disease has been kicked up with the dust
By Annette Stark
As urban sprawl spreads into the desert, a deadly disease has been kicked up with the dust
Bakersfield resident Lori Miller has seen a lot of Valley Fever. The first time she watched a family member die of the disease was in 1986. "My husband's cousin Mark went through several years of treatment, but the symptoms kept getting more serious," she recalls. "Eventually, he developed spinal meningitis. At that point, there wasn't much the doctors could do."
Mark Simmons died at age 22. In '92, another one of Miller's cousins developed the disease during pregnancy. "Pregnancy is when you are most vulnerable," Miller explains. "She died two years after she had the baby and left four children behind." The doctor in the office where Miller worked got it next. "I'll never forget. He walked in, threw his car keys on the desk and said, 'Don't panic; take me to the hospital. I think I'm having a heart attack.'"
A few years later, Miller went to work for her church, the New Life Center in Bakersfield, presided over by Pastor James Ranger. Eventually, she noticed that Ranger, whom she describes as initially "energetic, a great communicator and visionary" had become listless. "Because it was so unlike his nature, we felt something was wrong and had him tested." Valley Fever again. In fact, when CityBeat contacted Pastor Ranger at home, we learned this is his second bout with the disease; he has been ill for almost three months. Lori Miller is worried sick. "I've stood at funerals and watched it take lives," she says.
Lori Miller's experience may be extreme, but Valley Fever is not a product of her imagination. Miller lives in Kern County, which has experienced numerous incidents of the disease since it was first identified in the 1930s, but according to a March 26 article in the Los Angeles Times, more than 70 cases have been reported in Ventura County since October. San Diego County has reported at least 30 cases. And some Southern California health practitioners are theorizing that the disease will continue to spread as a result of the Fall 2003 wildfires that scorched the ground, removing plants and ground covers, thus allowing the pathogen that causes Valley Fever to become airborne.
It lives in the dirt. According to the national Center for Disease Control, the fungus that causes Valley Fever - technical name: Coccidioides immitis - is "prevalent in the soil of most semiarid areas," such as Kern County (which includes Bakersfield), Phoenix, and other dry areas of the Southwestern United States, Mexico and South America. (The Arizona Department of Health Services has reported an increase from 11.5 infections per 100,000 residents in '92 to 57 per 100,000 in 2002.) Valley Fever is widely believed to be caused by spores in soil that can become airborne due to a variety of conditions: Droughts, subdivisions, earthquakes, and forest fires have all been blamed.
Valley Fever infections rose significantly in Ventura County following the Northridge earthquake, and questions about its ability to affect Los Angeles residents remain unanswered, mostly because the airborne disease has shown up in some unusual places. "People think they're safe because they live by the ocean, but it's very light and it can travel many miles in the air," says Sandra Larson, communication coordinator for the Valley Fever Vaccine Project of the Americas. Larson has been active in the cause since 1996 and is currently working on raising funds to test a new vaccine. "The spore doesn't need dust to travel. It's smaller than dust. Cleaners have been known to come down with this, because it's on the clothes."
Valley Fever is not, however, contagious through human contact. Even in Arizona, where the disease is more prevalent than in California and dogs appear to be particularly affected, most sufferers might only think they're afflicted with a head cold and will get well.
Dr. Tom Larwood has specialized in internal medicine in Bakersfield since the late '50s. A resident physician at what is now Kern Medical Center, Larwood saw many incidents of Valley Fever, especially since he was in practice with Dr. Hans Einstein, a long-recognized expert who served in many hospitals, including USC Medical Center. Larwood points out that the symptoms usually mimic the flu. "It almost always enters the body through the lungs and most people just think they have a flu. Usually there is a feeling of more-than-usual aching, which is how it got its nickname early on as desert rheumatism. Sometimes there are bumps on the skin, and that's more suspicious."
The pathogen stays localized in the victim's lungs and chances are excellent that it can be suppressed - or even eradicated - with antifungal medicines like Diflucan. The treatment is expensive, about $800 per month, but effective. However, on the occasions it does spread, or disseminate, from the lungs to the blood, it can cause swelling of the brain, blindness, meningitis, and even death. According to the CDC, those at highest risk for the disease are "African-Americans and Asians, pregnant women during the third trimester, and immuno-compromised persons." In someone suffering from AIDS, the mortality rate from the disease is high.
"We're not trying to scare people," says Larwood. "The good news is most people don't know they have it and will get well. The bad news is a few people get really sick. For the one person in 20 who gets it, it becomes disseminated, and one in ten of those will die."
Larwood dismisses speculation that Los Angeles is safe from the disease. Not every corner is paved, and environmental changes can cause the pathogen to spread easily in the air. "The reporting figures will be slow coming in from Los Angeles and people aren't thinking about it, so they might not get diagnosed. The Northridge quake turned up a lot. We know about other areas, because there were studies done in one of the camps near Saugus and Newhall, and it's prevalent there. Simi Valley is a likely spot, too. But you can potentially get cases all over L.A. because the wind blows everywhere."
Unlike polio or smallpox, Valley Fever cannot be eradicated; it will always be in the soil and requires a vaccine, notes Mike Cooper, the chairman of the Valley Fever Vaccine Project of the Americas since its inception in 1995. "We're so close to having that vaccine, but yet so far away. We've raised in excess of $12 million, and now have something that is successful on mice, but we're running out of money."
"These last five days were what I call good days," says Pastor Ranger. "The bad days, the fatigue gets me. The lungs, it's like an elephant sitting on my chest." Prior to contracting the fever, Ranger was in charge of 23 churches from Pismo Beach to Riverside. "I've had to hand all that over. A lot of what I do is solving problems, but now I have to be more on an even keel. I went to our yearly convention and had to stay in bed all day long just so I could go out to our evening service." The Valley Fever Vaccine Project of the Americas has raised almost $13 million to develop a vaccine. Another $2.5 million is needed to bring the vaccine to the point of human testing, and since the disease is mainly here in the Southwest, the Project must rely heavily on community awareness for funds. "This is critical," Sandra Larson explains. "We hope to do it by 2005."
Published: 06/17/2004
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