Cold Spaghetti

One of several random aversions I have developed as a result of the study of epidemiology
has been related to water. Specifically: unless given no other choice, I do not drink tap water. In part this is due to my own idiosyncrasies, in part due to getting used to the whole bottled-water -all-the-time thing while overseas, and mostly, due to studying public health at Michigan where many of the professors are leaders in water quality and environmental toxicology. As a result, many of studies we read, dissected, and used for learning were in those areas of science.

Another part of my water-peculiarity came from the water in Ann Arbor, which I thought had “a smell.” (Warning: detailed health event to follow.) A few weeks after moving to Michigan — on the very weekend we were moving into our house from the apartment we leased while we house-shopped — I came down with sudden, incredibly severe abdominal pain and diarrhea. Followed by blood. I literally pooped solid blood for two days before getting directions to the UM hospital. (Stick with me here, the story will eventually tie in.) I presented to the ER with a highly elevated heart rate, anemic, and with internal bleeding (that pain was my insides hemorrhaging). Four days hospitalized, a range of tests, and a billion biopsies and I received a diagnosis of Crohn’s Disease, was put on meds, scheduled for more tests, and sent home. Before having the attack, we had gone to dinner at Max and Erma’s, a nearby chain restaurant. Paul and I had shared vegetable fajitas and I had (unbottled) water to drink.

About three months later, I returned to the hospital for a follow-up scope. The physician was shocked to find that my colon and large intestine were absolutely perfect: no sign of the illness he’d previously diagnosed. I was so healthy and healed that he reversed his diagnosis, giving me a clean bill of health. We chalked it up to chance occurrence and were thankful.

Exactly one week later, my parents were visiting and we went to dinner… at Max and Erma’s. I had a salad (no dressing), baked potato, and drank water. Two hours after dinner, the incredible pain came back. Followed by blood. By morning, I was back in the hospital. This time the diagnosis was permanent (ulcerative colitis) and was followed by over a year of tests, challenging medications, and eventual healing. The question of what set off the flares would be discussed at length for months — with many jokes about Max and Erma’s. But both times, the only thing that I had which was unique to everyone else was unbottled water. (Incidentally, we’d been there other times before and after when I’d had diet coke without problems.)

After my diagnosis, a friend pointed me to an article that showed a link between molecules living in tap water and flaring of GI disease — specifically, colitis. The study pointed out high levels of chemicals (related to run-off) whose presence in water was a concern. Although we never can be sure, I have always thought that there was a darn good chance that Ann Arbor water (and that odd “smell”) were contributors to my disease… the little nudge that set my stressed body into attack. My thoughts on this issue were brought to mind when I read this post by Fluffy, who specifically talks about endocrine disruptors in the Huron River, Ann Arbor’s water supply.

The point of all of this: water is pretty darn important. And we do really bad things to it.

When I did my coursework in reproductive epidemiology and toxicology, I chose to study herbicides (specifically, glyphosate, the active ingredient in Roundup) as my focused research. I’ll spare the details, but let’s put it this way: if you want to be sterile, give your kids cancer, and just generally be ill, give Roundup a place in your yard. Think that herbicides, pesticides, and fertilizer are good? That their safety has been tested? That you can trust those “family-friendly” labels? Think again. The FDA (the agency responsible for approving use of everything from prescription drugs to cosmetics to pet food to garden chemicals) does not have the resources to test these products themselves. (While I was a student, I remember noting that the FDA’s yearly budget was less than that of the University of Michigan.) Without the funds to conduct the extensive testing necessary for approval, the FDA relies on the companies who MAKE the product to show it’s safety. (Hello, conflict of interest!) That means that the folks who tested glyphosate for market use were HIRED by Monsanto, the company that makes the chemical. Are there serious problems with those studies? You betcha. I’ve read them: scientific method wasn’t on their minds when they were pulling together their data. Have these studies been questioned and refuted by other, more neutral, scientists? Yup. But the product is still on the market. The active and inactive ingredients in Roundup are consistently thought to be endocrine disruptors — although controversial due to the power of Monsanto-sponsored studies and political lobbying. (And the fact that it is very difficult to show clear causation between isolated and interacted environmental chemicals to negative health outcomes.)

Side note: have I mentioned that in studies of male sterility, concentrations of sterile men (those with dysfunction in sperm count, motility and/or morphology) is highest among guys who work as lawn-service technicians for golf courses?

But I digress. There is something a bit closer to home that is making me think about all of this.

On our visit to the park this morning, we were confronted with the incredibly think algae which covers the water in Audubon Park, growing thicker and covering more water as the summer presses on. The algae is part of a chemical reaction occurring in the water, chemicals soaking in from the golf course which surrounds it.

But run-off can make a big environmental impact hundreds, even thousands, of miles from its area of application:

Every late spring, it forms 12 miles off the Louisiana coast and lasts for months: a sprawling, lifeless band of water known as the “dead zone.”

Shrimp trawlers steer clear, knowing the low oxygen in this part of the Gulf of Mexico makes it uninhabitable for fish and other marine life. It starts at the mouth of the Mississippi River and can extend all the way to the Texas border, many years growing to the size of Connecticut.

It’s not a natural phenomenon. Waste water and fertilizer runoff from farms and towns hundreds of miles up the Mississippi pour billions of pounds of excess nutrients into the Gulf, sparking unnatural algae blooms that choke off the oxygen needed for the food chain to survive.

Just as I learned while trying to treat my colitis: there is no perfect medicine, no perfect chemical. You cannot take a medication or use a chemical to treat one symptom without having a negative side-effect occur somewhere else. My response: treat everything as holistically and naturally as possible. In my experience, it’s a win-win.

So as summer descends and we wish for those perfect lawns, consider what you’re putting on them and where it goes. (Also consider that studies have shown that in homes where yards are chemically treated, there is a higher concentration of hazardous chemicals in the carpets of those homes than in the actual grass itself.) Maybe we’d all be a bit healthier if we cared more about the green in our hearts than the green in our lawn.