Sludge Watch ==> Milwaukee 13 years ago - cryptosporidium in the drinking water caused outbreak
maureen.reilly at sympatico.ca
maureen.reilly at sympatico.ca
Thu May 11 11:56:07 EDT 2006
Original URL: http://www.jsonline.com/news/metro/apr03/131542.asp
10 years ago, crypto gripped the city
Water contamination lessons lead to safer system 10 years later
By MARILYNN MARCHIONE
mmarchione at journalsentinel.com
Last Updated: April 5, 2003
Most Milwaukeeans can't remember exactly where they were 10 years ago today,
but it was probably in the bathroom.
Cryptosporidium
Photo/Joe Koshollek
Michael Ryszkiewicz, recovering now from a fractured back, was among the
Cryptosporidium victims.
Photo/File
After the Cryptosporidium outbreak 10 years ago, the Pryor Ave. well in the
Bay View neighborhood was a popular place in early April 1993 to get
untainted water. Years later, many still mistrust water from the tap, though
experts say Milwaukee's is now extremely safe.
By the Numbers
44,000
Doctor visits.
4,400
Hospitalized.
725,000
Lost work or school days.
$96 million
Lost wages and medical expenses.
$90 million
New water purification system.
Quotable
It was a real tragedy for the community, but even more for the individuals
affected by it.
- John O. Norquist,
Milwaukee mayor
A tiny parasite with a big name, Cryptosporidium, had gotten into city water
and thousands of people's guts, causing severe diarrhea and a weeklong order
to boil water before drinking it.
It happened even though the water met all federal and state standards. It
happened without health officials being aware of it for many days.
It made history as the largest waterborne disease outbreak in the
industrialized world.
The official toll: 403,000 sickened, 44,000 doctor visits, 4,400
hospitalized, more than 100 deaths, 725,000 lost work or school days, $96
million in lost wages and medical expenses and $90 million for a new water
purification system.
"It was a real tragedy for the community, but even more for the individuals
affected by it," Milwaukee Mayor John O. Norquist said.
The epidemic led to fundamental changes around the nation in public health,
disease surveillance, water treatment and testing . . . even the way people
view drinking water. Years later, many still mistrust water from the tap,
though experts say Milwaukee's is now extremely safe.
Life-threatening germ
Most people who got the germ had a week of misery and no long-term
consequences. But it cost some their lives, primarily AIDS patients whose
weak immune systems couldn't fight it off without the modern AIDS drugs
available today.
"It was just a terrible experience. I had several requests for assisted
suicide, for euthanasia. People were just suffering so much," said Ian
Gilson, a Milwaukee physician.
Some cancer patients also died, unable to survive a grave medical condition
and a parasitic infection. Other people didn't lose their lives, but had to
fight for them.
One woman ran up $35,000 in medical bills and lost a spleen. Some transplant
patients battled organ rejection all over again. Several people developed a
rare blood disorder that doctors said may have been triggered by an
overstimulated immune system trying to defeat the parasite.
Michael Ryszkiewicz lost kidney function and had a transplant the following
year.
"I went from living a normal life to being on dialysis," said Ryszkiewicz,
who now lives in Oconomowoc. "It cost me a lot of anguish, a lot of pain. I
didn't know if I was going to live."
People worried about things big and small: pets getting it, rinsing contact
lenses, washing dishes, whether hot chocolate and ice at County Stadium
would be safe for the Brewers' home opener. Women feared babies could get
the germ through breast-feeding. Some wondered if it caused miscarriages
they suffered.
Tentacles of the outbreak reached around the nation. One East Coast man got
sick because he drank from a drinking fountain at the Milwaukee airport
during a brief layover on a cross-country flight.
The source of the germ that sickened them still isn't known and probably
never will be.
Following the trail
Cryptosporidium is a protozoan, a one-celled organism that stays dormant in
water inside an egg-like shell, which splits open and lets the germ multiply
in the intestines.
It's common in standing water and is a well-known cause of illness in
cattle, especially calves, so investigation initially focused on farm runoff
as a potential source. But the picture blurred when genetic analysis by the
Centers for Disease Control and Prevention revealed that stool samples from
infected Milwaukeeans contained a human strain of Cryptosporidium, not a
bovine one.
Although the source remains a mystery, how the germ got in city water is
well known.
Chlorination doesn't kill Cryptosporidium; it must be filtered out. At the
time, that depended greatly on chemicals to precipitate impurities out of
raw water. City officials had been experimenting with a new chemical that
apparently did this quite poorly, especially at the Howard Avenue
Purification Plant on the south side.
For weeks, residents called the water department, complaining of cloudy,
foul-smelling water, and officials kept using more of the chemical to try to
fix the problem, not realizing it was ineffective.
There were unusual weather conditions - a snowy, wet spring with lots of
runoff into streams, and wind patterns that affected currents and how water
flowed around the intake pipe in Lake Michigan, the source of the city's
water.
City officials also discovered an illegal sewer connection that had been
allowing waste from a slaughterhouse to enter sanitary sewers.
"It was an unbelievable confluence of events. There were so many things
going on at the same time," said state epidemiologist Jeff Davis.
By April 5, a Monday, calls were flooding the Milwaukee Health Department
from the public, the media and pharmacies saying that people were sick, and
diarrhea medications were flying off shelves.
Water under microscope
For several days, officials tested for bacteria and viruses and came up
blank. The protozoan didn't come to light until the afternoon of April 7,
when community doctor Thomas Taft called the Health Department to say that
another doctor, Anthony Ziebert, had an older patient who tested positive
for Cryptosporidium.
City health officials had started to test for protozoans and immediately
sent faxes to hospitals, asking them to do the same. By sunset, eight cases
were confirmed.
In a meeting to discuss what to do, the mayor set a glass of water in front
of Davis, the state's chief medical officer, and asked whether he'd drink
it. Davis said no. Norquist called a 9 p.m. news conference and ordered
residents in Milwaukee and 10 suburbs that use city water to boil it until
further notice.
The Milwaukee Journal and the Milwaukee Sentinel abandoned competitive
publishing and jointly put out a special edition in Spanish and English,
warning people not to drink the water.
The Howard Ave. plant was closed, and the water treatment problems became
public knowledge. But by then, thousands were sick. The former Milwaukee
County Medical Complex was seeing 75 cryptosporidiosis patients a day and
getting calls from hundreds of others.
Until the cause of the illness was known, "they were giving people water,
which just made it worse," Taft said.
Hospitals had their own problems, as at West Allis Memorial, where many
nurses were sick.
"The diarrhea was so severe they could not make it to the regular restrooms
and would have to use patient restrooms," Taft said.
Flurry of lawsuits
Many people wanted justice. More than 4,000 people filed notices of injury
with the city, and 1,400 filed claims seeking damages of $25 million. The
cases were consolidated into a class-action lawsuit, and rulings eventually
narrowed the number to about 540.
The city ultimately settled for $100,000, and General Chemical Corp., which
made the water treatment chemical, settled for $1.5 million. About 50 cases,
all involving people who died, got the largest amounts - $13,500 after
attorneys' fees.
Meanwhile, Norquist said he tried to focus on preventing future outbreaks by
overhauling water treatment. An ozone purification system started operating
in October 1998. The water intake pipe was extended 4,200 feet farther into
Lake Michigan to draw in a purer supply. Better filters and monitors were
installed. Security was improved; the city's two water plants now are
fenced, lighted, policed and video-monitored.
Health officials boosted efforts to detect and track illness in the
community - the very kind of surveillance being done now in communities
across the country as part of bioterrorism preparedness.
"It started very small and simple - weekly calls to nursing homes and
pharmacies just to find out what they're seeing. But today, we're tracking
about 20 different indicators of illness on an ongoing basis across the
city," said Health Commissioner Seth Foldy, who came to Milwaukee in 1996.
If there had been such a system including pharmacies, nursing homes and labs
in 1993, "that outbreak would have been detected much earlier than it was,"
said Jim Hughes, director of the CDC's National Center for Infectious
Diseases.
"I wished it would have never happened in Milwaukee," said Paul Nannis, an
Aurora Health Care executive who was health commissioner at the time. But he
said he was proud of the Health Department's response, and the knowledge the
epidemic produced about water and its links to public health.
Could it happen again?
"I would never say that," Davis said. "But the likelihood in Milwaukee is
pretty low because of all the safeguards that have been taken."
A version of this story appeared in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel on April
7, 2003.
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