On a quiet Thursday in late June, 51-year-old Texas native Cristy Cooper sat down on her toilet and instantly realized her life was about to be turned upside down. What followed was a violent, near-instantaneous bodily revolt unlike anything the seasoned dialysis patient had ever experienced. Speaking candidly from her hospital bed, Cooper described the sheer force of her sudden illness with a mix of shock and dark humor, likening the explosive, watery evacuations to the powerful “whoosh” of a commercial public toilet. She was suffering from cyclosporiasis, a severe intestinal parasitic infection that transforms a person’s digestive tract into a literal disaster zone. In a matter of days, the relentless sickness reduced her to a state of total exhaustion, making even sleep a hazard as she tragically soiled herself twice in her dreams.
This unpleasant ordeal is not an isolated incident, but rather part of a alarming summer spike in parasitic infections across the United States. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), at least 145 people ranging in age from 5 to 86 across 20 states contracted cyclosporiasis between May and June. While New York reported the highest concentration of cases, followed closely by Texas and Illinois, the culprit behind the misery is a tiny parasite known as Cyclospora cayetanensis. This microscopic tormentor is typically transmitted when people consume fresh, imported produce that has been contaminated with feces, often originating from tropical climates. Though no deaths have been reported from this current wave, the parasite’s toll is heavy, leading to at least 40 hospitalizations of patients who, like Cooper, found themselves completely overwhelmed by the relentless symptoms.
For Cooper, the illness escalated with terrifying speed from simple discomfort to an agonizing, round-the-clock marathon of vomiting, severe abdominal cramping, a low-grade fever, and extreme flatulence. At the height of her infection, she was forced to run to the restroom no less than thirty times a day, emitting sounds so incredibly loud that she jokes they could likely be heard three doors down. Seeking emergency medical care became her only option when her dehydration grew dangerous. Because Cooper is immunocompromised and undergoes regular dialysis, her medical team has to strictly regulate her fluid intake to prevent life-threatening cardiac complications and high blood pressure. This limitation made managing the massive fluid loss from her diarrhea an incredibly delicate balancing act, leaving her feeling far weaker and more depleted than she ever had during any prior bout with the seasonal flu.
In addition to the physical exhaustion, the parasite completely stripped Cooper of her appetite, causing her to lose at least ten pounds in a matter of days. With a wry laugh, she warns others that while the weight loss is rapid, she absolutely does not recommend cyclosporiasis as a trendy new diet plan or a cheap alternative to weight-loss medications. The road to recovery has been further complicated by her allergies; because she is allergic to sulfa drugs—the standard, highly effective antibiotic treatment for this specific parasitic infection—her doctors had to resort to an alternative medication called ciprofloxacin. Though her daily bathroom runs have finally decreased to a slightly more manageable four or five times a day, she remains anxious about the very real threat of a relapse, a frustrating trait of the Cyclospora parasite where symptoms suddenly vanish only to return weeks later with renewed vengeance.
Despite the misery of her hospital stay, Cooper has managed to find some unexpected silver linings of distraction. The timing of her hospitalization coincided with the solemn second anniversary of a local flood disaster in her hometown of Kerr County, which claimed the lives of dozens of young campers and staff; focusing on her own recovery helped keep her mind off the painful local memory. She also took to TikTok to share her bizarre diagnosis with her 36,000 followers, only to be flooded with comments from countless others who suspected they were suffering from the exact same mysterious bug. Finding solidarity in her virtual community, Cooper joked that if she had to be stuck in a literal shitty situation, at least she wasn’t going through the agonizing experience entirely alone.
As state and federal health agencies work tirelessly to pinpoint the exact source of this multi-state outbreak, the precise food item responsible remains a mystery. Cooper recalls eating peaches, tomatoes, cantaloupe, and a bagged Caesar salad in the weeks leading up to her illness, and she strongly suspects pre-packaged salads might be the common denominator. While she urges everyone to rigorously wash their hands and all fresh fruit and vegetables before eating, she notes that even the most meticulous hand-washers can still fall victim to the foodborne parasite. The CDC warns that while washing produce thoroughly reduces the risk of infection, it cannot completely eliminate the stubborn parasite from the crevices of raw food. For now, Cooper is taking it one day at a time, hoping for solid ground while reminding the public that even the cleanest people can find themselves at the mercy of an invisible invader.
