Dirty Places, Part 8: Pools, Water Parks and Beaches

I have been accused of being a militant germophobe with my Blog series on Dirty Places. Perhaps I am. I realize that we all live in a world teeming with pathogenic microorganisms, but I just feel that an Ounce of Awareness is worth a Pound of Disease. I have really enjoyed the hundreds of comments and stories that my readers have shared. I wish that I could respond to all of them, but I know that this subject is near and dear to many people.

Working in pediatrics, I am painfully aware every day that children practice a considerably lower standard of hygiene than other creatures that share this planet. I absolutely love kids. I high-five them with their unwashed hands. I pick them up, hug them, tickle them, and of course, examine them. I get sneezed on, kissed, bit, slimed, peed, and pooped on quite regularly – an inherent risk of my chosen profession. At least in the clinic, I have some measure of infectious disease control with frequent hand-washing and disinfection. The outside world inhabited by children is often less controllable.

Several years ago, we had our grandchildren to the local water park for the medical group annual family picnic. Dylan, age two, was newly potty-trained (sort of) and was happily splashing around in the kiddie pool. Much to our horror, Dylan decided that pooping in his bathing suit was both convenient and appropriate, seeing how he was in water.

This was a Triple-F moment that we all fear: Floating. Fecal. Flotsam. Panic-stricken parents grabbed little children and quickly extricated them from the pool, not unlike the mad rush out of the ocean in that Jaws movie, or the Baby Ruth scene in Caddy Shack.

“Don’t touch it!” “Get out of the water!” Now, I was sort of oblivious at the moment, but due to the intensity of the screams, I expected to see a shark fin or something.

As the chlorine/urine-laden water began to calm, I spied the culprit – the little Turd of Concern. Accusatory fingers pointed at Dylan. I desperately wished that is was a shark fin. The water park Haz-Mat crew rushed to the scene and yellow-taped off the area, as the pool was drained and decontaminated. Dylan, with his vibrant red hair, was quickly identified throughout the rest of the day as the kid who closed down the children’s pool. It was yet another proud moment for the Grandparents.

I find it difficult to believe that any pathogens could live in a highly-chlorinated public pool, but it does. We all know that a large portion of that water is urine (usually sterile, but gross nonetheless). Fecal (enteric) contaminants, like E. coli is also commonplace in swimming areas, including beaches.

You would think that the vast volume of ocean water would dilute enteric bacteria, but not always. Whales poop in the water, too, and I imagine that their drooping are much more impressive than Dylan’s little gift. A recent article in the LA Times talked about these fecal contaminants. I am glad I didn’t read it before our recent week at the beach in San Diego.

It is estimated that up to 1.5 million people develop health problems and illness from beach and surf contamination. Health officials carefully monitor “acceptable fecal limits” and close the beaches quite often when those levels climb. To me, there really is no thing as acceptable fecal limits. I am not happy about acceptable limits of rodent and insect parts in our food either.

Keep in mind that not all beach fecal contaminants come from those naked kids running through the surf, or from parents burying dirty diapers (Yes, they do!) in the sand. Some of those contaminants come from storm drains and sewer overflows.

It is not uncommon for local officials to fine RV owners caught dumping their holding tanks, filled with raw sewage, into the storm drains. People often use storm drains as outside garbage dumps, disposing of any number of disgusting items, like hypodermic syringes, dead cats, or diapers. Some of that untreated water eventually makes it to the ocean where currents keep it conveniently near the shore for our recreational pleasure.

While at Club Med in Mexico twenty years or so ago, I swam into some watermelon rinds and floating paper off the resort beach. I was told by the locals that they dump this stuff into the water at night when the tide goes out. Apparently, someone was late the day before and the garbage did not head out to sea. I suspect this practice no longer exists at Club Med. I can’t say, since I never went back again.

It is going to be 106 today and I would love to be at the beach, contamination or not. When the thermometer hits that triple-digit, I am not that picky about potential beach contamination. I take my chances, just like all of us. I just hope that I am not one of the 1.5 million people that go home with vomiting and diarrhea every year from a day at the beach.

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