Letter From Mom

Your blog is very cute, but all those people who are your devoted fans do not have a grandchild traveling in shark infested waters to an island which has already infected 2 family members with a permanently disabling parasite.
Love, anyway --- Mama





I concede that my mother may have a point here. The last time my brother went to Fiji with his family, they contracted a variety of parasitic worm that laid eggs in their spinal fluid and caused permanent damage to their central nervous systems. The parasite, Gnathostoma, has the unfortunate habit of gnawing at the pain centers in the brain, so that my brother and his wife periodically hallucinate extreme agony in various parts of their bodies. Also, my brother is occasionally convinced that worms are crawling under his skin and coming out his eyes.

But consider the upside. Once you have been diagnosed with a permanently debilitating and agonizing medical condition, the doctors are willing to prescribe all manner of fun pharmaceuticals. I am convinced that I would find new layers of meaning and metaphor in Silas’ favorite book, Ten Little Ladybugs, with the help of a hefty dose of morphine. True, the loss of gross motor control might make it difficult to hold the book, or indeed my baby, but these are the challenges that lend richness and meaning to life.

And has anyone considered the worms? Gnasthostoma isn’t actually intended to hatch in human beings. They are supposed to complete their life cycle in the gut sack of a leopard, a lion, or a sea otter. They are supposed to be prowling the rainforest, the savannah, or the high seas, quietly maturing in style until such time as they are born, fully-formed worms, in a steaming pile of jungle feces. They have no interest in living in the spinal fluid of a couple of California liberals.

Gnasthostoma , in fact, are unable to fully mature in the human body. They are forced to wander around, from liver, to spine, to ocular nerve, idly snacking and wondering why they can’t grow up. Perhaps that’s why I feel the odd stab of sympathy for them. Peter and I, it would seem, are roughly at the same level of maturity as these larval worms, without much of a plan beyond travel, adventure and eating delicious food.

Take it from my mother: to avoid infection with Gnasthostoma, you should refuse to travel to Fiji. While you’re at it, you should probably avoid Australia, Mexico, Ecuador, and pretty much all of Asia.

Or, you can boil your drinking water.