MrBallen’s Medical Mysteries - Ep. 59 | Monsters in the Wind
Episode Date: November 19, 2024After a young man suffers devastating injuries from a tornado, doctors race against the clock to save his life. But the real danger isn’t from his wounds… it’s what’s inside them.Foll...ow MrBallen's Medical Mysteries on Amazon Music or wherever you get your podcasts. New episodes publish for free every Tuesday. Prime members can binge episodes 57-64 early and ad-free on Amazon Music. Wondery+ subscribers can listen ad-free--join Wondery+ in the Wondery App or on Apple Podcasts.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.
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Sitting in the backseat of a pickup truck, a teenage boy watched in horror as the driver careened around the crushed vehicles and chunks of debris that littered the streets ahead of them.
The sky was a deep, unnatural orange color, and the boy could hear sirens from police
cars, ambulances, and fire trucks like something out of a disaster movie.
But this was no movie.
A deadly tornado was plowing through this city, leaving total destruction in its wake.
The boy looked down at his lap, where he was cradling his unconscious friend's head.
His friend's chest had been ripped so wide open that the bones of his rib cage were visible
and his face was so torn and bloody that he was almost unrecognizable.
The boy hoped they would make it to the hospital in time to save his friend.
But little did the boy know, once they got to the hospital, his friend's suffering was
only just beginning.
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From Ballin Studios and Wondry, I'm Mr. Ballin, and this is Mr. Ballin's Medical Mysteries,
where every week we will explore a new baffling mystery originating from the one place we
all can't escape, our own bodies.
So if you liked today's story, offer to clean the follow button's desk, but instead
of cleaning it, just superglue everything inside of it down.
This episode is called Monsters in the Wind.
Around 5.15 p.m. on Sunday, May 22, 2011, 16-year-old Stephen Wearsing was riding in
the passenger seat of his friend Johnny's car as they barreled through the streets of
Joplin, Missouri.
It was a perfect spring day.
They had the windows rolled down and their friend Dylan, who was in the back seat, was
singing along to the Blink- 182 song that was blasting from
the radio.
And as they drove, Stephen stuck his right arm out the window to feel the wind, and as
he did, he admired the tattoo that ran the length of his right forearm.
The tattoo spelled Stephen's last name in a style that sort of looked like graffiti.
He'd gotten it two weeks ago, and although he loved it, his parents did not and they
were still upset that he had actually gotten it. But Steven didn't really care.
Steven turned around and asked Dylan to pass up the bag of potato chips they'd just bought
at the store. Dylan took one more handful and then thrust the bag forward, and as Steven
grabbed the bag, big raindrops began hitting the windshield. Johnny quickly rolled up the
windows, and when Stephen looked outside, he
noticed the sky had gone from, you know, slightly overcast to now very dark gray. Stephen instinctively
turned down the volume on the radio and then said to his friends that it looked like a
serious storm was coming. Johnny nodded and said he would start driving back to his house
in South Joplin where they could all wait out the storm together. But just five minutes
later as Johnny weaved through the back roads of the small city,
the drizzling rain became a full-on downpour, and strong winds began to shake the car.
Stephen leaned close to the windshield, trying to see through the heavy rain smashing into it
to try to help his friend find the correct turn,
but then something bounced off the window right in front of Stephen's face,
startling him and causing everybody in the car to gasp.
Steven quickly realized that they were all kind of overreacting.
It was just a stick that had hit the windshield.
And for a second, Steven wanted to laugh.
But then all three boys heard off in the distance the ominous sound of a tornado siren, loud
and clear, even through the pounding rain.
Growing up in a part of the country that's sometimes called Tornado Alley, Stephen and
his friends had been through their fair share of tornadoes, and so they'd heard these sirens
before.
Normally, storms didn't really scare Stephen, but he could already tell that this storm,
this tornado, was different.
It had come on with almost no warning, and now more sticks and rocks were beating the
sides of the car, and the gray sky had taken on a sickly orange tint.
Johnny, who was white-knuckling the steering wheel at this point,
turned to Steven and Dylan and said,
hey, we're almost at my house, I'm going to try to outrun the storm.
And then Johnny hit the gas, turned right, and the rain actually suddenly stopped.
For a moment, all Steven and his friends could hear
was just the urgent wail of the tornado
siren.
But then this overwhelmingly loud rumbling noise like a jet engine made Steven suddenly
cover his ears.
And then pieces of cement and plywood began crashing into the car, this time shattering
the passenger side window and filling the car with broken glass.
Steven turned to his friends, absolutely terrified, and he could
see from all their looks that they were scared too. And then Stephen realized that the reason
the rain had just stopped for a second is because Johnny had just unknowingly driven
directly into the path of the tornado. But now there was basically nothing they could
do. Johnny continued to try to drive, but the car began to shake harder and harder,
and then Stephen felt the entire vehicle literally rise off the ground until none of the wheels
were touching the road.
Stephen and the others did their best to try to shield their bodies from all the debris
flying through the broken window, but as the car began to spin faster and faster in mid-air,
Stephen felt the wind pulling him out of the car.
He screamed and his friends grabbed his legs, frantically trying to keep him inside.
And then, as suddenly as the car had risen off the ground, it came smashing back down
onto the street, landing on its roof and throwing the three teenagers out onto the street.
But the tornado was not finished with them yet.
Stephen's friends gripped the car to brace themselves against the strong winds, but Stephen
had fallen further away from the vehicle and he was again swept back up into the swirling
vortex, this time with no car around him to protect him.
Stephen watched as his friends grew smaller and smaller as Stephen was sucked farther
up into the air.
For just a moment, Stephen was acutely aware of the roaring wind
and the debris pummeling him from all sides, and then everything went black.
On the other side of town, Stephen's father, David, listened to the weather report on TV
while he made sure all of his windows were shut and locked. The meteorologist said that
a giant mile-wide tornado was wreaking havoc on the southern
part of Joplin with winds blowing over 200 miles per hour.
But even people who lived further north, like David, should still take cover.
Just then, David's landline phone rang, and when he picked it up, he heard his ex-wife
Carissa speaking, and she sounded very concerned.
She asked David if he had heard from either of their sons.
Ever since David and Carissa had gotten divorced, the couple shared custody of their kids, and
both boys were staying at David's house that weekend.
Carissa said she'd been trying to get in touch with the boys to warn them about the tornado,
but she couldn't get in touch with them.
Neither of them were answering their phones. David told Carissa that he had spoken to their younger son, Nathan, and he was safe, but she couldn't get in touch with them. Neither of them were answering their phones.
David told Carissa that he had spoken to their younger son, Nathan, and he was safe, but
he hadn't heard from Stephen all weekend, which was actually normal, because at the
time, Stephen was going through a rebellious phase.
Stephen and his dad had gotten into a big argument after Stephen decided to drop out
of high school, and lately, Stephen would leave home for days at a time without telling anyone where he was, and he would do the exact same thing when he was staying
at his mother's house. But David knew, you know, despite all that, Stephen had a good heart, and he
wouldn't just ignore his parents' phone calls when they just wanted to know that he was safe.
So David told Carissa he would try to get in touch with Stephen.
So David hung up and then used his cell phone to call and text Stephen.
He didn't get a response, and as the rain and wind picked up outside and the tornado
sirens continued to blare, David started to worry.
He told himself that Stephen was probably at one of his friend's houses, but Stephen
had buddies all over the city.
What if he'd been visiting someone in South Joplin in the tornado's path?
But there really wasn't anything David could do, you know, with the storm outside, David
basically just had to stay home and wait it out before he went out looking for his son.
Thirty minutes later, David was glued to the news and the meteorologist finally reported
that the tornado in South Joplin had passed
and it was now safe for people to go outside.
David still had not been able to contact Stephen, so as soon as he heard the all clear, he grabbed
his keys and ran out to his car.
David planned to drive to the two hospitals in Joplin to check if Stephen was at either
one.
And as he drove, David felt a bit of relief seeing that his neighborhood was still in good
shape. There was debris here and there and a few thin trees that snapped in half, but nobody's
houses or cars were severely damaged. However, David's relief turned to anxiety as he drove
further south, where the tornado had actually touched down and he saw the widespread devastation.
To David, it looked like a giant had stomped right on top of the town.
Houses were flattened into piles of wood and brick. Power lines had collapsed. Battered cars
and trucks were littered all over the streets creating roadblocks that were nearly impossible
to pass. David turned on the car radio to see what the local news station was saying about the storm.
And a reporter came on and said the tornado had been categorized as an EF5, which is the highest on the scale. Thousands of buildings had been
damaged or destroyed, hundreds of residents were injured, and dozens of people had already
been found dead. David fought hard to keep his anxiety at bay, praying that Stephen had
not been in this area when the tornado had come through.
Finally, David reached St. John's Regional Medical Center and he was horrified to see that the huge multi-story building had been decimated too. An entire side of the hospital
was now gone and David could see first responders running in and out of the building,
hustling survivors out. And so David just turned and began driving
toward Joplin's other hospital
called Freeman Health System.
As he pulled into the parking lot,
David was relieved to see that Freeman was still standing.
And so he parked his car in the lot and then ran inside.
Entering Freeman Hospital was like walking into a nightmare.
The emergency room was crowded with people
who'd been injured, some quite badly.
David saw one man who had a bloody, obviously broken leg, and there was a woman with shards
of glass literally sticking out of her arms and chest. He could hear children crying and the muted
sounds of an ambulance pulling up outside. And at least a dozen people were lined up in front of
the reception desk, all new patients waiting to be checked in.
David didn't want to waste valuable time waiting in that line, so he just started walking around
the lobby asking random hospital employees if they'd seen a skinny 16-year-old boy with
dark shaggy hair. But everyone he talked to said no. But just then, a doctor came out
of the doors that led to the emergency room, and her blue scrubs were stained with blood, and she looked completely overwhelmed.
But David just sprinted right up to her and asked her the same question, hey, have you
seen my son?
You know, he's 16, he's got scraggly hair, he's skinny, and he also has a big tattoo
on his right forearm.
When the doctor heard this, in particular the right forearm tattoo comment, the doctor's
expression changed, and she told David to please follow her.
And she led him through the chaotic hallway and into a room where a teenage boy was lying
unconscious on a bed with a breathing tube inserted directly into the front of his neck.
His face was so badly injured that David didn't actually recognize him.
But then the doctor walked over to the boy and gently lifted up the boy's right arm and
showed David the tattoo.
And when David saw it, he knew immediately he'd found his son.
The doctor said a good Samaritan had brought Steven and one of his friends to the hospital, and Steven apparently had been riding around with two other teenage boys when their car had been
sucked up into the tornado. The other two teenagers were okay, but Steven was not. He was in terrible shape.
He had a serious head injury, several cracked ribs, a punctured lung, and a deep, open wound
on his abdomen that left the right side of his rib cage totally exposed.
But despite all his injuries, the doctor said that hospital staff had been able to stabilize
him.
And so right now, the doctor said he was doing basically as well as he could be, and they
hoped he would just continue to improve.
David was shocked and horrified and heartbroken to hear what his son had gone through.
But the doctor at least sounded somewhat optimistic, which made David hopeful too.
And so David thanked the doctor and then called Stephen's mother, Carissa, to tell her the
bad news.
Five days later, Carissa sat beside her son's hospital bed, wishing that Stephen could talk
to her.
The doctors were keeping him in a medically-induced coma so that his brain could heal from his
traumatic head injury.
But Carissa spoke to him anyway, telling him that she loved him and that he was strong.
And she wanted to believe that her son could hear her
because he did seem to be doing better.
Some of Steven's bruises were lightening up
and the smaller scrapes and cuts he had
were starting to heal as well.
But one side of his face was still covered in a thick scab
and Carissa had not yet dared to look beneath
the huge white bandage that stretched
from her son's belly button up to his right armpit.
Carissa reached out to hold Steven's hand and she noticed that his fingers looked bigger than usual,
like they were swollen. Carissa got up and walked to the other side of his bed
and she saw that his other hand looked swollen too.
A few minutes later, when a nurse came in to check on Stephen, Carissa asked about Stephen's hands.
The nurse looked closely and said the swelling in his hands might
be caused by an infection inside of his body. The nurse did not seem that concerned, but she told
Carissa she would ask the doctor to get Steven started on a course of antibiotics right away,
which should help his body fight off this infection. Carissa nodded and gave the nurse
a weak smile like she was okay with this answer, but inside, she had no idea what kind of infection
caused a person's hands to swell up so much, but the nurse did not seem like she had any
time for questions. She was already rushing out of the room. Karissa knew the doctors and nurses
were doing their best, but they were clearly overworked, and it worried her that they hadn't
noticed these signs of Stephen's potential infection. But Karissa just felt glad that
she was at least there to look after her son and make
sure his medical team didn't miss anything.
And so she and David agreed to coordinate their schedules so that at least one of them
was always by Stephen's side.
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On June 1st, so three days after Stephen's antibiotic treatment began,
Carissa and David were sitting beside each other on the small couch in Stephen's room
when a doctor walked in. He had a grave expression on his face as he told
the parents that the antibiotics did not seem to be working. In fact, the swelling in Steven's hands
had only gotten worse. And now he was also running a fever and his blood pressure kept jumping and
then plummeting. The doctor said that with every passing hour, Steven's condition was getting less
and less stable.
And the doctor admitted that the hospital didn't have the resources to take care of Steven at the moment. They were struggling just to find beds for all the patients who'd been injured during the
tornado. The doctor said that what Steven really needed was a team of doctors who had the time and
space to care for him properly. So they suggested having Steven airlifted 150 miles north to Children's
Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, Missouri. The doctor promised Steven would get better,
more specialized care there than he could in Joplin. For the parents, this was not even a
question. Of course they would take Steven wherever he needed to go to get better.
So just a few minutes later, Carissa watched as medical staff loaded her still
unconscious son into a medical helicopter and then David jumped in after him and gave
Karissa a hesitant wave goodbye. Karissa backed away and watched as the helicopter took off
and began its journey and then Karissa headed out to the parking lot, got into her car and
began the long drive north to Kansas City.
That same afternoon at the Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, a pediatric infectious
disease specialist named Dr. Mary Ann Jackson stepped into the room where her newest patient
had just arrived.
Dr. Jackson, who was a very energetic woman, had decades of experience treating children
with unidentified infections, which made her the perfect person to take care of Steven.
She'd already been briefed on his condition, so when she went into his room, she was not
surprised to see him laying there unconscious with a breathing tube down his throat.
Dr. Jackson introduced herself to Steven's father, who was in the room, and she explained
that she was here to figure out what was causing his son's hands to swell up.
And then Dr. Jackson walked over to Steven and looked at his hands, which were definitely
still very swollen, but she couldn't see any open wounds on his hands or wrists where an
infection could develop.
And so Dr. Jackson began to check out the rest of Steven's injuries.
The scabs on his face were healing well, and so too were the cuts and bruises on his arms
and legs.
That just left Steven's biggest wound,
the one on his abdomen which was currently covered by a huge white bandage.
Dr. Jackson carefully removed that bandage and even though the doctors from Freeman Health System
had warned her about the severity of Steven's injury, she still was not prepared for what she
saw. His entire side was exposed, the skin, fat, and muscle that would normally
protect his rib cage had all been ripped away.
And then Dr. Jackson noticed that sort of surrounding this horrible wound on his abdomen
was this weird shiny black material that almost looked like patent leather. Dr. Jackson recognized
this as dead tissue. Whatever infection Stephen had, it was causing the skin and muscle around the wound to die
and turn black.
Dr. Jackson knew that this was obviously a very dangerous situation.
Dead tissue can be a breeding ground for all kinds of dangerous bacteria, plus it stops
wounds from healing properly.
Dr. Jackson explained to Stephen's father they would need to bring his son in for surgery
immediately.
All of that dead black tissue around Steven's wound would need to be surgically removed as
soon as possible.
David looked uneasy but he said, okay, whatever you have to do.
And then he squeezed his son's hand and told him that he was strong and he was going to
be okay.
And then a nurse came in and wheeled Stephen away to be prepped for surgery.
That evening in the operating room, Dr. Jackson watched as a surgeon carefully removed sections
of the thick black tissue from around Stephen's chest wound.
The surgeon cut away as much dead tissue as he could find, but what was left behind didn't
look very healthy either.
Dr. Jackson could already tell that Steven was almost certainly going to need another
operation after this one.
And so after the surgeon was done and began putting a fresh bandage over Steven's chest,
Dr. Jackson took samples of the dead tissue they'd removed and sent them to the hospital
lab for analysis.
Two days later, Dr. Jackson was back in the operating room, standing next to the surgeon
as he held a scalpel close to Steven's chest.
They had not received the results of tissue analysis from the lab yet, but when Dr. Jackson
checked in on Steven that morning, she realized she had been right.
He definitely needed more surgery.
Because not only was there more dying and blackened tissue
surrounding Stephen's wound,
but something even more disturbing was happening.
Something that Dr. Jackson had never seen
in over 25 years of practicing medicine.
Looking down at Stephen's exposed ribs,
Dr. Jackson and the surgeon both saw fuzzy black material
growing on top of Stephen's bones and into his muscles.
Dr. Jackson turned to the surgeon and said it sort of looked like mold.
And so whatever infection Stephen had, it was clearly eating away at his flesh and also
spreading throughout his chest cavity.
And even though Stephen was on huge doses of antibiotics, this infection kept on growing
at an alarming rate.
Dr. Jackson watched as the surgeon carved away as much of the mold and dead tissue as
he could.
But still, Dr. Jackson knew this was not sustainable.
With each surgery, they were chopping off more and more of Stephen's skin and muscle.
And so they couldn't just keep doing that because that would eventually kill him.
Plus, this infection appeared to just grow back anyway.
But regardless, when the surgeon was finished and Stephen went back to the recovery room,
Dr. Jackson briefed his parents about what she and the surgeon had found.
She still didn't know what this infection was, but it was clearly very aggressive and
was not responding to any of the medications the doctors had tried so far.
Dr. Jackson swore she was going to do everything she possibly could to help their son, but
she admitted it was going to take a miracle for their son to pull through this.
David looked at the doctor with tears in his eyes.
He said he didn't understand how this was happening.
One moment Steven was a perfectly healthy kid, the next he was injured in this freak
tornado accident, and now his
body was being ravaged by some kind of mysterious flesh-eating infection, and nobody could tell
them what it was, how he got it, or how to help him? It just didn't make any sense.
Ten days later, Dr. Jackson arrived for her shift at the hospital. She pulled on her white
coat and walked down the hallway towards Steven's room to check
on him.
But she was not feeling optimistic.
Ever since Steven's second surgery, his condition had just kept on getting worse.
The tissue surrounding his wound was slowly dying, and as hard as the hospital staff had
tried to keep his wounds clean, that fuzzy black mold just kept coming back.
But just before she got to Steven's room, a lab technician stopped her in the hallway
and told her they'd finally gotten the results of Steven's tissue analysis.
This lab report did explain what was causing Steven's life-threatening infection.
And while Dr. Jackson was glad to finally have some answers, she knew that this diagnosis
was not good news. The rare infection that was ravaging Stephen's body had less than a 20% survival rate, and
the only treatment was absolutely brutal.
Surgeons would need to cut every last bit of the infection out of his body.
And so just a few hours later, Dr. Jackson was once again in the operating room with
the same surgeon who had performed Steven's first two surgeries.
And as the surgeon sliced away mold and dead tissue, he suddenly turned to Dr. Jackson
with a horrified expression on his face.
Now the mold was not just on Steven's bones and in his muscles.
Mold had also made its way into Steven's lungs, liver, and heart.
In order to get this infection out of Steven's body, the surgeon was going to have to remove
parts of Steven's vital organs.
Dr. Jackson told the surgeon that they just didn't have any other choice.
Steven might die if he lost parts of these organs, but he would definitely die if the
surgeon left any trace of the infection behind.
So the surgeon very carefully began to cut away moldy sections of Stephen's lungs, liver,
and heart.
And when the surgery was over, Stephen had lost so much bodily tissue that Dr. Jackson
could literally see his internal organs through the gaps in his ribs.
She could see his lungs inflate and could see what was left of his heart still beating.
And so even though Dr. Jackson wanted to remain optimistic, looking down at the mangled boy,
she just couldn't imagine how he was going to survive this.
Eight weeks later, in August of 2011, Steven's mom, Carissa, was curled up on the fold-out
bed in Stephen's
hospital room, trying her best to relax.
She had stayed there almost every night that summer, but she rarely got any sleep.
Even after the doctors had removed parts of Stephen's vital organs, the infection kept
coming back.
And so Stephen had undergone 12 more surgeries to remove mold and dead tissue from inside of his chest,
and then a few days after Stephen's most recent surgery, Dr. Jackson had roused Carissa to tell
her that for the first time, the mold had not come back. They had finally cured Stephen's infection.
At first, Carissa wanted to celebrate, but then reality came crashing down on her.
Carissa wanted to celebrate, but then reality came crashing down on her. As doctors worked hard to save Steven's life, his body had been damaged almost beyond repair.
Despite this infection being gone, he might never wake up from his coma.
And even if he did, at a minimum, he was going to need multiple reconstructive surgeries
and years and years of physical therapy.
And so that evening, thoughts about her son's uncertain future kept Carissa wide awake as
usual.
And so, needing a distraction, Carissa sat up, grabbed the TV remote, and flipped through
the channels until she found MTV, Stephen's favorite channel.
And then she sat upright on the hard fold-out bed and reached over to hold her son's hand.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw Steven move.
Carissa turned her head and looked at Steven and she saw that she was not mistaken.
Steven was blinking, his eyes were now wide open.
For the first time since the tornado nearly three months ago, her son was awake.
Steven looked around the room, confused about where he was and what was
happening and then a moment later he looked right at his mom and she burst
out laughing and crying at the same time totally overcome with joy.
The following morning Dr. Jackson stood next to Stephen's hospital bed. Stephen's
parents were both in the room and they both looked happier and more energized than they had in months.
Although Dr. Jackson had been treating Steven since June, this was the first time she was really
meeting him, and the shaggy-haired teenager had a lot of questions for her. He said that the last
thing that he could remember was tumbling out of his friend's car and being pulled up into the
tornado. He had no idea what happened after that.
Dr. Jackson told him that the fact that he was alive was a miracle.
She explained how terribly injured he'd been after the tornado, but that that wasn't even
the worst of it.
After being hurt, he'd developed this infection that ate away at his skin, muscles, and organs
and very nearly killed him.
This incredibly rare infection was called zygomycosis and it was caused by a fungus
that had invaded Stephen's body.
The fungus blocked off his blood vessels causing his skin and muscle tissue to die and rot.
At the same time, it grew rapidly inside of his body appearing as black mold on his ribs
and in his muscles and organs.
This fungus usually lives in water or underground, and it doesn't normally make people sick.
However, during the devastating tornado, which killed over 150 people and injured thousands
of others, this fungus had been swept up into the vortex.
And after Stephen's chest was cut wide open, that fungus that was in the tornado
was literally blown into his chest cavity where it took hold and began multiplying quickly.
The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention determined that 12 other people who were affected
by this tornado had also developed the same horrible infection as Stephen because they
had open wounds and the fungus was blown inside of them. But Dr. Jackson actually told Steven that compared to some of the other victims,
he was one of the lucky ones. Five of those 12 other people affected by this fungus had
died.
Steven had to spend another three months in the hospital before he was healthy enough
to go home. Even then, he underwent multiple reconstructive surgeries and was left with a giant scar stretching
from his belly button almost to his neck.
But much like the tattoo he got when he was 16, Steven feels like his huge tornado scar
is an important part of his story because it shows how far he's come.
After his battle with deadly fungal infection, Stephen decided to go back to school
and finish his education. And today, he's a proud father to four young kids and he couldn't
be happier. Although, from time to time, he still has nightmares about the tornado that
changed his life.
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From Ballen Studios and Wondry, this is Mr. Ballen's Medical Mysteries, hosted by me,
Mr. Ballen.
A quick note about our stories.
We do sometimes use aliases because we don't know the names of the real people involved.
And also, in most cases, we can't know exactly what was said in these stories, but everything
is based on research.
And also a reminder, the content in this episode is not intended to be a substitute for professional
medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment.
This episode was written by Karis-Allen Pasch-Kuper.
Our editor is Heather Dundas.
Sound design is by Matthew Cialelli.
Our managing producer is Sophia Martens.
And our coordinating producer is Taylor Sniffin.
Our senior producer is Alex Benedon.
Our associate producers and researchers
are Sarah Baitak and Tasia Palaconda.
Fact checking was done by Sheila Patterson.
For Ballen Studios, our head of production is Zach Levitt.
Script editing by Scott Allen and Evan Allen.
Our coordinating producer is Samantha Collins.
Production support by Avery Siegel.
Executive producers are myself, Mr. Ballin,
and also Nick Witters.
For Wondry, our head of sound is Marcelino Villapondo.
Senior producers are Laura Donna Pallivota
and Dave Schilling.
Senior managing producer is Ryan Lohr.
Our executive producers are Aaron O'Flaherty
and Marshall Louis for Wondry.
You don't believe in ghosts?
I get it.
Lots of people don't.
I didn't either until I came face to face with them. Ever since that moment, hauntings, spirits, and the unexplained have consumed my entire
life.
I'm Nadine Bailey.
I've been a ghost tour guide for the past 20 years.
I've taken people along with me into the shadows, uncovering the macabre tales that
linger in the darkness,
and inside some of the most haunted houses,
hospitals, prisons, and more.
Join me every week on my podcast, Haunted Canada,
as we journey through terrifying
and bone-chilling stories of the unexplained.
Search for Haunted Canada on Apple Podcast,
Spotify,
Amazon Music, or wherever you find your favorite podcasts.