Bryan couldn’t make it. Not really. He tried to drive to urgent care, but his body had other plans. Started Thursday. By Saturday? Bathroom breaks every fifteen minutes. Thirty max.
“It’s no joke about the explosion,” he said. He kept his last name out of it. Smart.
I met him on Reddit. Lurking in threads. Reading about Cyclospora cayetanensis. It’s a microscopic parasite. It lives in human feces. And right now, it is infecting thousands of Americans. Symptoms hit fast—or slow, up to two weeks later. Nausea. Cramping. Appetite gone. And the diarrhea. Watery. Explosive. It stops for a day, then returns like a bad guest who never asked for permission. Severe dehydration puts some people in hospitals. 141 so far. Zero deaths. Yet.
I love elaborate salads. Summer produce feels sacred. Now it feels suspicious. Why didn’t the government say anything concrete? Nobody knew. The vacuum created conspiracy theories instantly. Are they protecting farmers? Distributors? The answer was boring. Bureaucracy is slow.
“Health agencies are being cautious… but the gap in information has left… Americans… to their own devices.”
Bryan thinks he has it. He didn’t get the specific test. Standard diarrhea tests don’t find Cyclospora. At the clinic, the nurse offered two options. Wait until Monday. Or take Bactrim now. Labs in Michigan were backed up. Overwhelmed.
Michigan is ground zero. 2,640 cases. Lettuce? Salad greens? Maybe. Maybe not. Washington Post says Taco Bell is under the microscope. They voluntarily recalled lettuce. Cilantro. Guac. But officials haven’t pinned it on anyone specific yet.
Why is this so hard to find?
It is tricky. Very.
Janet Hamilton works in epidemiology. She said large outbreaks take time. Days, not hours. Especially when multiple products are involved. This is why we need disease detectives.
Rodney Rohde agrees. Texas State University expert. He said Cyclospora outbreaks are some of the hardest to solve. Incubation period is a week. Fresh produce rots in a week. You are chasing ghosts.
Pathogens hide in tiny amounts. A lab takes 25 grams of a shipment weighing tons. Might miss the bug entirely. Then tracing? Forget it. Produce moves through growers. Packers. Distributors. Retailers. By the time people get sick, the food is gone.
Here is the kicker.
“CDC is backing off on one of its best surveillance systems.”
Federal funding got cut. The FoodNet program scaled back in July 2025. It used to track eight major pathogens, including Cyclospora, in ten states. Now? Not so much.
Financial constraints, the CDC says. Money didn’t keep pace.
CDC officials claim their national systems are still working. “Same data, same process,” they said on a press call. Hamilton disagreed. FoodNet was just a sentinel system. A warning bell. Real detection happens through state reporting. States share data. CDC sees it. Now the lines are blurred.
The CDC links Michigan, Ohio, West Virginia and Kentucky. 34 states report cases. Source unknown. Tracing continues.
So what do you eat?
Nothing safe is guaranteed. But nothing is forbidden either.
FDA and CDC won’t tell you to avoid specific foods yet. Bad move? Maybe. Hamilton says wash your veggies. Dry them properly.
Rohde is harsher. Avoid lettuce if you can. Especially if your immune system is weak or you live in Michigan. Check local reports. Skip the herbs if summer heat makes you nervous.
History rhymes.
In 2020? Over 600 cases across 11 states. FDA recalled bagged salads. Aldi. Walmart. Giant Eagle. All tied to an Illinois plant.
Before that? Snap peas. Raspberries. Parsley. Basil. Cilantro. The list goes on.
Prevention starts at the farm, not the kitchen. Rohde admits farmer’s markets might be safer. Smaller batches. Less common water sources. But if you live in a hot zone? Caution. Always caution.
I asked about avoiding raw greens. Rohde didn’t sugarcoat it.
“Vegetables and fruits are obvious important… BUT one should be cautious.”
So here we are. Desperate for a crunch. Scared of the consequence.
Bryan is recovering. Finally. Almost a week in. The pain has passed, leaving only the memory of Preparation H and endless trips to the porcelain. “I wish this on no man,” he said.
I’m still holding my fork.
