Prime Slime

The next morning, Terri Wald and Dexter Nichols arrived at the lab early. Evan was already there, and asked them to approach his work area. His eyes beamed with the excitement of discovery.

“Have a look at this!” He scooted his chair forward so Terri and Dexter could stand behind. Evan’s new video equipment could project an image from a microscope onto a computer screen. On it, they saw a number of white fluid balls, each one a bacteria surrounded by a thick coating of slime. “It’s pretty obvious now what this monster is. There’s nothing like it.”

“That’s one slimy bugger!” Dexter nodded.

“It’s an accident waiting to happen,” Terri quipped.

“It’s nasty all right!” Evan remarked, smiling at his prize students, and sneering at his arch enemy. The clinical lab identified the offender as Klebsiella pneumoniae, the slimiest of all the medically important bacteria. It was a common cause of pneumonia, urinary tract infection and sepsis. But this strain was slimier than any Kleb Evan ever witnessed. The white fluff balls banged around like pinballs on speed.

Aghast, the apprentices looked to Evan for further instructions. “Dexter, run a genetic analysis. Terri, do the serological testing for slime type. Tomorrow we’ll know for sure.”

“Yes sir!” The diminutive Dexter limped away to begin the assignment. Terri proceeded to her work station, her golden ponytail bobbing rhythmically as she exited Evan’s office.

“We need answers quickly!” Evan shouted at the departing figures. “This thing is terrorizing Burrstone.”

Nothing looked quite like Kleb. The shiny, runny colonies on Petrie dishes eventually coalesced into one slimy mass as the culture aged. Its appearance under the microscope also gave it away. But, there are dozens of strains of Kleb that differ by the type of slime they make. So, they had to show serologic and genetic identity to make the link between cases. They had to prove, down to molecular makeup, that isolates from all over the hospital were from the same source, as part of the epidemiological analysis.

After an overnight incubation, the results were in. All Kleb samples from the various wards turned out to be the same strain. Dexter projected the acetate film–showing genetic fragments from various samples. The ladder-like pattern of DNA bands was each strain’s signature, and all lined up perfectly, row to row. Serotyping data also showed identity among slime types. But, something about this strain was like no other.

Looking for clues, Evan returned to the hospital to collect samples from patients and hospital personnel, even from the kitchen help. Eventually, Evan and company solved the riddle and sent the report to Dr. Wally electronically. Evan called his office on speakerphone so his students could listen in.

“Check out the email I sent, Chief. This is a superbug of a different kind.”

“No wonder it got around so quickly,” Wally quipped, as he viewed the video on his computer. Bacteria were flying all over the screen. Wally used it thenceforth as his screen saver.

“Kleb isn’t usually this motile. Is it really Kleb?” Evan queried.

“How about: ‘Kleb with legs’?” Wally suggested.

“Not very scientific,” Evan countered.

“No matter what you call it, this needs to be written up and published. We need to be the first to report this phenomenon.”

“The story gets better. Wait till you hear where it came from.”

“Who’s the ‘Typhoid Mary’?” Wally asked.

“Believe it or not, we sourced it to the hospital cafeteria. The Kleb was traced to iceberg lettuce imported from South America.”

“I didn’t know Kleb was a vegetarian,” Wally joked. “That seems like a strange reservoir for a human pathogen.”

“There are precedents,” Evan responded. “Remember the Pennsylvania restaurant that fed their customers tainted Mexican scallions? That hepatitis killed several people.”

“So the cheap lettuce we imported turned out to be expensive after all.” Dr. Wally had a unique way of seeing things.

“That’s what happens when we cut corners, Chief.”

Terri glanced at her notes, “We can’t be sure if it’s intentional or not. Much of our food is imported, and so little is inspected.”

Dexter chimed in: “This very well could be the work of terrorists.” The room fell silent.

“It’s more likely from a manure pile used for fertilizer,” Terri cautioned. The two students acknowledged each other with a nod.

“Why the NICU?” Wally asked. “Babies don’t eat lettuce.”

“No, but nurses do,” Dexter responded. “They carried it to the NICU from the cafeteria. We found it on their hands and clothes.”

“Excellent work, Lucian. You’ll be rewarded for this.”

“I already have, Chief, with this opportunity to serve.”

“Nicely said, and well done, all of you.”

And so, the riddle was solved. Evan and company were meticulous in their efforts and were rightfully proud of their work.

By phone, Dr. Wally notified Infection Control. “We have a sanitation problem in the cafeteria. All produce needs to be destroyed. The entire cafeteria needs disinfecting. Cafeteria personnel need to wash their hands more frequently with anti-bacterial soap, and their clothing washed in hot soapy water. And, put them all on antibiotic prophylaxis.” It was a good start.

“Anything else, sir?” said the Infection Control nurse.

“Tell them to buy local produce, for God’s sake!”

Dr. Wally got back on line with Evan.

“That bug has come a long way, Chief.”

“And so have you, Professor. So have you.”