MrBallen’s Medical Mysteries - Ep. 81 | Unraveling Bolero/Crossing Over

Episode Date: April 22, 2025

“Unraveling Bolero”: When a middle-aged scientist experiences unexpected success as an artist, it seems like little more than a surprising career change. But then, she becomes obsessed with interpreting a repetitive orchestral piece called “Bolero.” As her obsession deepens, her health takes a turn for the worse – and the cause has a surprising connection to her favorite piece of music.“Crossing Over”: A few days after arriving in Boston, an immigrant from Mexico starts coughing up blood and experiencing horrible stomach pain. As doctors scramble to save his life, they have to contend with their patients’ reluctance to share his background. But when they finally learn the truth, it unlocks the key to everything.Be the first to know about Wondery’s newest podcasts, curated recommendations, and more! Sign up now at https://wondery.fm/wonderynewsletterSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

In medicine, as in life, communication is extremely important. Whether it's a doctor breaking things down for a patient or a patient describing their symptoms, it's crucial that everyone is on the same page. Otherwise, things could fall through the cracks and people's lives could be at risk. Unfortunately, in today's two stories, communication does break down, but not for reasons you might expect. In our first story, a woman suddenly becomes obsessed with painting the same thing over and over again.

As the years go by, this obsession grows stronger. However, she can't explain why, because she's also losing the ability to speak. And in our second story, a man who has just arrived in America is hospitalized with life-threatening organ failure. However, his doctors struggle to figure out what's wrong because he can't, or won't, tell them what they need to know. Thinking about the misfortunes your small business could suffer doesn't seem very zen, Thank you. as $19 per month. Quick and easy, whether you're self-employed, an entrepreneur, a contractor, or small business owner, ZenSurance offers the unique coverage you need in a snap. Get an instant price today at ZenSurance.com.

I'm Mike Bubbins. I'm Ellis James. And I'm Steph Guerrero. And we're convinced that our podcast, The Socially Distanced Sports Bar, is going to be your new favorite comedy podcast with just a little bit of sport thrown in. You don't have to love sport, like sport or even know anything about sport to listen. Because nobody has conversations which stay on topic and it's the same on our podcast. We might start off talking about ice hockey but end up discussing, I don't know, 1980s British sitcom Alo Alo instead.

Imagine using the word nuance in your pitch for Alou Alou. He's not cheating on his wife, he's French. It's a different culture. If you like me and Mammoth, or you like Alice in Fantasy Football League, then you'll love our podcast. Follow The Socially Distant Sports Bar wherever you get your podcasts. The Socially Distant Sports Bar, it's not about asymmetrical overlords. James, podcasting from his study, and you have to say that's magnificent. From Ballin Studios and Wondry, I'm Mr. Ballinin and this is Mr. Bollin'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 like today's story, please offer to buy something the follow button is selling, pay entirely in pennies. And now here's our first story called Unraveling Bolero. One morning in the spring of 1986, a 46-year-old Canadian woman named Alina Atkinson softly closed the door to her teenage son Jacob's bedroom. Jacob had recently been in a terrible car accident and was bedridden with his injuries. Doctors had told Alina and her husband Tyler that Jacob would require around-the-clock

care to recuperate, and so even though Alina had a very busy professional career as a biologist, she had taken a leave of absence to tend to her son. It had been a very abrupt life change for her, but she was grateful she was even able to do that. However, Jacob, luckily, was healing faster than doctors expected, and so now he just spent most of his time in bed, not needing any direct care from Alina. That left Alina with a lot of hours during the day to kinda do nothing. She didn't really need to look after her son, and her husband was away most of the day in Vancouver at the university where he taught mathematics.

And so for a while, Alina had spent this unexpected free time reading or just playing the piano. But then she had found her old paint set from high school in the garage. As a teenager, Alina had been an avid painter. And so she figured, you know, with all this extra free time, maybe now is a good time to rekindle her passion. Now initially, she painted homes, buildings and churches in a realistic architectural style. But in the last couple of weeks, she'd been experimenting with painting new things and

using new brushwork techniques. And for some reason, as she was trying out new things, she became obsessed with strawberries. It was like every time she painted a strawberry, the more obsessed with them she became. She found an almost infinite subtlety in every detail of its form. The spacing of the seeds, the specific shade of red, the tuft of green petals at the top. It was like every time she sat down to paint, she would consider painting other subjects. But she just couldn't get the strawberries out of her mind, and so she would just paint more strawberries. Now, Alina didn't know if this meant anything, but she

didn't question it. She just did what her brain told her to do. One year later, on a warm summer night, Alina stood with her husband in a brightly lit white rectangular room. It was the opening night of her first solo art show at a local Vancouver gallery. Tyler tapped his plastic cup of white wine against hers and whistled in awe at the walls filled with her amazing artwork. The paintings were filled with detail. There were paintings of houses ringed in seas of brightly colored flowers with every petal carefully shaded. There were these kaleidoscopic circular paintings of roots and mushrooms and octopuses, and

there were paintings of leaves and bark and tropical fish, all rendered in a similarly obsessive way. They were undoubtedly beautiful, but full of so much detail it almost looked kind of manic. Now, Alina didn't really understand where this intense creative drive was coming from. I mean, she had wanted to get back into painting but didn't expect to be so head over heels in love with it again, but she was very proud of what she'd made.

Months earlier, when Jacob had recovered enough to return to high school, Alina realized something big. She didn't want to go back to her old life. She used to love working as a biologist, but now, compared to how she felt while she was painting, it was awful, and she couldn't go back. And so, Alina had quit her job and spent every day since obsessively creating art. The process was thrilling to her, and it kept expanding. Alina didn't want to do anything else. Sometimes, her husband seemed a bit bewildered by her devotion to her craft, but Alina didn't mind.

She felt too inspired to care. Just then, the director of the gallery interrupted the couple's moment with good news. Several of Alina's paintings had just sold. Her show was a hit. Seven years later, on a drizzly winter morning in 1994, Alina was in the kitchen making toast and envisioning her day in the art studio. The house was quiet except for a small radio that Alina kept tuned to the classical music station, and after a while she realized she'd been listening to the same piece of music

for what felt like a really long time. She stared at the radio and focused on what she was hearing. The song was a strange hypnotic march with a rolling staccato snare drum carrying a melody of flutes and bells. Across almost 15 minutes, the song swelled and snowballed, adding more and more instruments until it crescendoed in a bombastic parade of sound and then crashed into silence. When the music finally stopped, the DJ identified the song as Bolero by the French composer Maurice Rivelle, composed

in 1928. Alina had never felt so moved by a piece of music ever in her life. Something about this Bolero had affected her in a profound way. She poured herself a mug of tea and then hurried to the studio. She had an idea. Three weeks later, Alina perched on a stool in her studio with a brush in her hand, her face inches from the canvas. On the shelf by the window, her CD player was switched to repeat mode to play the same

track over and over, which was of course, Ravel's Bolero. It was the only music Alina had listened to for weeks. It was also the subject of her latest painting that she had been working on for weeks. The painting was supposed to be a visual representation of the song Bolero. Each note was depicted as a different color. For instance, B flat was metallic green. The duration of the song was expressed as a series of rectangles stacked on top of each other.

The height of each shape represented the loudness of the instruments. Alina listened to Bolero hundreds and hundreds of times to create her visual coding system. This required an extreme level of focus, but Alina had never felt so inspired. She felt like she was making her masterpiece. The most challenging part, though, was translating the climax of Bolero to painting. During the climax, the music becomes dense and dramatic, with crashing drums and instruments overlapping with one another. Alina conveyed this chaos by making her map of shapes and colors grow larger and larger and then start to sort of fall apart,

like a scarf unraveling. And one night, while staring at the painting, the title of it came to her. She called it Unraveling Bolero. Six years later, on a weekend afternoon in the year 2000, Tyler was making lunch for his wife. Unraveling Bolero had become a small sensation in the art world, and since its release, Alina's career had steadily grown. After knocking on his wife's studio door, Tyler nudged it open and went inside. As always, Alina was in front of her easel with a large palette of paints beside her.

Tyler asked her what she wanted for lunch, but at first she didn't seem to hear him. When he asked again, she simply blurted out a string of words. Sandwich. Apple. Tea. Back in the kitchen, Tyler kept thinking about Alina's response. He had noticed his wife had seemed less talkative lately, but he had assumed she was just lost in thoughts about her work. Now, he wasn't so sure. A year later, Tyler's brother and wife were visiting from out of state for the holidays. Tyler asked Alina to take a break from painting so they could spend some time together, and she had agreed.

While Tyler waited for her to finish up in the studio, he opened up a bottle of wine and lit a fire in the fireplace. When Alina emerged and joined them, Tyler's brother asked her what she'd been working on. Alina opened her mouth to explain, but brother asked her what she'd been working on. Alina opened her mouth to explain, but then she just cocked her head to the side as if she was trying to remember what she was going to say. Then, instead of actually speaking, she began tracing a triangular shape in the air, like she was playing a game of charades.

Tyler couldn't tell if his wife was just being playful or something, but he translated for her. He explained to his brother that Alina's new painting was of some friends on vacation in Egypt in front of the pyramids, hence the triangle. Now Alina would eventually regain her speech, and so everyone just kind of forgot about this weird moment. But Tyler didn't. He kept thinking about the way Alina had become momentarily speechless.

He couldn't help but feel like something was happening to his wife. He just didn't understand what. Another year later, one evening in the fall of 2002, Tyler went into Alina's studio to discuss their dinner plans for the night. He suggested a couple of local spots, then asked if she had a craving for anything specific. And he watched as Alina didn't answer him and then she began to furrow her brow and began to look really frustrated. Tyler asked her again, thinking maybe she hadn't heard him or didn't understand, but

this time his wife just grabbed a pad of paper and began sketching something. Seconds later she held up a drawing of a hamburger. At this point, Tyler was genuinely disturbed. This no longer felt like maybe his wife being eccentric. It seemed like his wife, again, was suddenly unable to talk. And so, acting on instinct, he told his wife he was going to call her doctor. And Alina simply nodded and turned back to her canvas. A few weeks later, a neurologist named Dr. Brad Milhauser sat in his office in San Francisco

across from Alina and Tyler, who had traveled all the way from Canada to see him. Dr. Milhauser's specialty was treating unusual brain conditions. He listened while Tyler described what was going on with his wife. As for Alina, she just sat there quietly watching her husband speak. She could no longer string together phrases longer than three or four words, and so Tyler had become the family's default spokesperson. Tyler told Dr. Milhauser about his wife's sudden career change from cellular biologist to artist, and her gradual loss of language that followed.

When expressing herself visually, Alina was vivid and creative, but when using language, Alina had become totally confused. As Tyler explained the evolution of Alina's artwork, he listed some of her favorite subject matter. Houses, flowers, strawberries, and bolero. Alina brightened at the mention of Bolero. She quickly reached for a pen and notepad on the desk and began sketching an outline of her painting.

Dr. Milhauser watched as Alina carefully rendered each square and triangle in precise proportions. He was impressed by how tunnel-visioned her focus became when locked into her work. But her specific fascination with Bolero gave him an idea. Dr. Milhauser had actually studied Maurice Rubelle before, the artist behind the piece Bolero. But he had studied him from a medical perspective, not a musical one. The doctor had a hunch that the parallel between the famed French composer and Alina might run deeper than anyone realized.

While Alina continued sketching, Dr. Milhauser told her husband that he wanted to do some brain scans on Alina might run deeper than anyone realized. While Alina continued sketching, Dr. Milhauser told her husband that he wanted to do some brain scans on Alina. If what he suspected was true, Maurice Revelle could be the clue to her mysterious condition. Days later, after studying the results of Alina's brain scans, Dr. Milhauser knew he had been correct. Alina's diagnosis was a brain disease known as frontotemporal dementia. Alina's brain scans showed significant damage to her frontal cortex, which is the part of the brain responsible for speech and language.

When cells in the frontal cortex begin to wither and die, language skills quickly decline. What causes frontotemporal dementia is not still fully known, but some doctors think it's due to the buildup of abnormal proteins in the brain. One surprising side effect of this disease is that as the language processing part of the brain weakens, other areas sometimes become stronger to compensate. For instance, the part related to processing visual information or the area that processes sound can become much sharper, leading to unexpected surges of creativity. But these bursts can express themselves in extreme or obsessive ways, such as repeating

a single idea over and over again, like Alina's paintings of countless strawberries, or Maurice Revelle's Bolero, which repeats the first melody nine times. What Dr. Milhauser knew from his studies was that Maurice Ravel also suffered from frontotemporal dementia. In 1933, six years after composing Bolero, Ravel's mental health began deteriorating. Within two years, Ravel couldn't write or speak. Although brain scanning technology didn't exist during Ravel's lifetime, a French surgeon examined the composer's brain just before his death in 1937.

In his notes, the surgeon described two of the lobes in Ravel's brain as being sunken. Ravel and Alina's unraveling were almost identical. A spike of artistic vision followed by a sudden loss of language. The fact that Alina based her most famous painting on Bolero was the clue to her diagnosis, but it was also a cosmically strange coincidence. Despite identifying Alina's condition, there was unfortunately nothing that doctors could do to reverse it. She gradually lost control of the entire right side of her body, and then she entirely lost

the ability to talk or even understand words. All the while, Alina continued to paint. But by 2005, Alina's body had degenerated so badly that she finally stopped painting. And then two years after that, Alina Atkinson died. Almost 70 years to the month after her inspiration, Maurice Ravel, also died. To this day, her painting, Unraveling Bolero, hangs in Dr. Milhauser's office. A fitting place for a work of art that reminds us how huge a role brain activity plays in creativity. Even the smallest business can face big risks. I'm John Robbins and on my podcast, I sit down with incredible people to ask the very

simple question, how do you cope? From confronting grief and mental health struggles to finding strength in failure. Every episode is a raw and honest exploration of what it means to be human. It's not always easy but it's always real. Whether you're looking for inspiration, comfort or just a reminder that you're not alone in life's messier moments, join me on How Do You Cope? Follow now wherever you get your podcasts, or listen to episodes early and ad free on Wondery Plus. How Do You Cope is brought to you by Audible, who make it easy to embark on a wellness journey that fits your life, with thousands of audiobooks, guided meditations and motivational series.

What if your mind could trick your body into feeling sick? Or even worse? In Hysterical, I investigate the bizarre medical mystery that unfolds in a high school in upstate New York. It starts with one girl developing strange, violent symptoms, and then another, and then another. Rumors begin to swirl. Is it something in the water? Inside the school? Or is it all in their heads? Hysterical is my search for answers. And along the way, I uncover surprising connections to unexplained incidents around the world.

Events that challenge everything we think we know about our bodies and our minds. Named Podcast of the Year at the Gambys, Hysterical is a mind-bending, unforgettable ride. Binge all episodes right now, exclusively and ad-free on Wondery+. Start your free trial of Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Everyone has that friend who seems kind of perfect. For Patti, that friend was Desiree. Until one day... I texted her and she was not getting the text. So I went to Instagram and she has no Instagram anymore. And Facebook, no Facebook anymore. Desiree was gone. And there was one person

who knew the answer. I am a spiritual person, a magical person, a witch. A gorgeous Brazilian influencer called Cat Torres, but who was hiding a secret. From Wandery, based on my smash hit podcast from Brazil, comes a new series, Don't Cross Cat, about a search that led me to a mystery in a Texas suburb. I'm calling to check on the two missing Brazilian girls. Maybe get some undercover crew there. The family are freaking out. They are lost. I'm Chico Felitti.

You can listen to Don't Cross Cat on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. And now for our second story called Crossing Over. One morning in September of 2019, a 33-year-old man named Daniel Flores stumbled into the lobby of a busy emergency room in Boston, Massachusetts. He was delirious, soaked in sweat, and clutching his stomach in obvious pain.

As he waited in line to sign in, Daniel's chest started to heave. All of a sudden he could barely breathe. Before he could call for help, his vision turned blurry and he collapsed to the floor. Moments later, he felt people lifting him up, placing him in a wheelchair, and rushing him through a series of swinging doors. The hospital swirled around him in a haze of voices, bodies, and fluorescent lights as someone placed an oxygen mask over his mouth. Soon, Daniel found himself lying on a bed in a small room while a man in a white coat

spoke to him. Daniel assumed he was the doctor, but he wasn't sure because Daniel didn't speak English. The doctor seemed to realize Daniel was not understanding him, so he stepped out into the hallway and yelled something, and Daniel caught one familiar word, Espanol. Soon, a young male nurse hurried into the room and introduced himself in Spanish. He said that he would be Daniel's interpreter. After grabbing a clipboard off the counter, the nurse asked Daniel how long he'd been experiencing his symptoms.

Daniel removed his oxygen mask and told him that he'd been feeling nauseous ever since arriving in Massachusetts four days ago with his wife and kids. And then once they had actually gotten to Boston two days earlier, it had only gotten worse and he'd begun coughing up blood. At first it had been bright red, but over the past two days, the blood had only gotten darker. This morning, before coming to the hospital, the blood looked brown and gritty, almost like coffee grounds. The interpreter nodded and relayed this information to the doctor. The doctor listened intently, then said something to the interpreter.

The interpreter then turned to Daniel and asked him about his medical history. Specifically, he wanted to know if Daniel smoked, drank, or took drugs. Daniel hesitated to tell the truth, but he decided he would trust the interpreter. He admitted that, although he had recently quit, for 15 years, Daniel had smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. He also drank daily, at least two or three drinks. After this, the interpreter and the doctor began speaking to each other. Daniel obviously didn't know what they were saying, but their voices sounded serious,

which made him feel nervous. Eventually, the interpreter turned back to Daniel. He told Daniel that coughing up blood often indicates bleeding inside of the digestive tract, which can be life-threatening. In order to find out more, the doctor wanted to run some tests, and Daniel agreed. After the doctor left to go arrange the tests, the interpreter flipped to a new page of Daniel's patient intake form,

and his next question was about Daniel's family history. However, Daniel really didn't want to answer. He knew that if right now he said the wrong thing, he and his family could be in a lot of trouble with immigration officials. About an hour later, Dr. Nicholas Hunt opened up an image on his computer. He was studying an X-ray the lab had just sent him of a new patient, Daniel Flores. After conducting a physical exam, where he noticed that Daniel was feverish, had trouble

breathing, and had a heart rate that was higher than normal, Daniel had also flinched when Dr. Hunt pressed on his abdomen. It seemed to him that Daniel's body was breaking down in several ways simultaneously, but he wasn't sure why. Dr. Hunt knew he would need to narrow down the options before Daniel's symptoms worsened. As Dr. Hunt examined the x-ray, he couldn't help but feel like the image was pretty worrying. Both of Daniel's lungs looked patchy and opaque. That meant they were infected, possibly with pneumonia, or even something more serious.

As a precaution, Dr. Hunt put Daniel on a regimen of broad-spectrum antibiotics that would hopefully slow any infection while Dr. Hunt figured out what was wrong. Just then, the doctor got another email. It was another test result from the lab, Daniel's blood test, and none of it was good news. The test indicated that Daniel had low levels of sodium and potassium, which suggested mild kidney damage. Daniel's liver enzyme levels were much higher than they should have been too, which meant he also might have liver damage, possibly from years of daily drinking.

Daniel showed high levels of a type of white blood cell called neutrophils, which are part of the immune system's response to infections. And so it looked to Dr. Hunt like Daniel's body was trying to fight something off. But his long years of drinking and smoking had very likely left his immune system dangerously weakened. It was clear to Dr. Hunt that the clock was ticking for Daniel Flores. He wanted to help, but he still didn't know what he was up against. Dr. Hunt shared Daniel's test results with a colleague, an internist named Marisa Koneko.

Dr. Hunt had already forwarded her Daniel's medical file so that she could help determine if Daniel's kidney or liver damage might be causing internal bleeding. Dr. Koneko said she found Daniel's kidney or liver damage might be causing internal bleeding. Dr. Koneko said she found Daniel's lab results equally worrying and the source of the bleeding needed to be found quickly. And so she recommended to Dr. Hunt that Daniel have either a bronchoscopy

or an upper endoscopy so the doctors could have a look inside of him. A bronchoscopy is a procedure that uses a thin flexible tube mounted with a camera called a bronchoscope to examine the lungs and throat. An upper endoscopy would be similar, but would examine the digestive tract. Dr. Hunt agreed with her idea.

One hour later, Dr. Koneko stood above Daniel in the operating room, gently guiding the bronchoscope down his throat as her sedated patient lay perfectly still. She watched the bronchoscope's progress on a small monitor positioned above Daniel's bed. As the tube found its way inside of Daniel's lungs, Dr. Koneko saw streaks of dark red lining the inside.

It's what she was afraid of finding. They were bloody secretions from decades of heavy smoking. Dr. Koneko maneuvered the bronchoscope as delicately as possible to collect fluid samples for testing. But, even the softest touch of the scope against Daniel's lung tissue triggered even more bleeding. On the monitor, she could see blood was actually oozing from the tiny air sacs in the lungs called alveoli.

This was clearly more than damage from just smoking. Something else was causing Daniel's lungs to hemorrhage blood. If she couldn't identify the cause, Daniel could easily bleed to death. However, there were a lot of options to weed out. This type of hemorrhaging was a common symptom of many infectious diseases, from something common like pneumonia to rare autoimmune conditions such as vasculitis and good pasture syndrome, and even a potentially fatal condition called acute respiratory distress syndrome. Dr. Koneko carefully retracted the bronchoscope up and out of Daniel's esophagus,

then a nurse wheeled Daniel back to his room. At this point, the doctor had successfully confirmed that there was something critically wrong with Daniel, putting him in immediate danger of death. However, that knowledge didn't put them any closer to finding a cure. That night, after making the rounds to visit his other patients, Dr. Hunt returned to Daniel's room. Daniel's skin was now yellowish, a sign that his liver was failing, and his eyelids drooped. He looked exhausted, and frankly much worse than he had looked during the bronchoscopy only a few hours earlier.

Dr. Hunt wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Daniel's bicep. He inflated it, then watched the gauge while listening to Daniel's blood flow with his stethoscope. He tried not to show any outward signs of worry on his face when he saw that Daniel's blood pressure had dropped significantly. Dr. Hunt also noticed Daniel's breathing had become raspy and shallow. He placed his stethoscope on Daniel's chest and listened. Between breaths, he heard a brittle, crackling sound, which indicated fluid building up in

Daniel's lungs. All of Daniel's organs seemed to be losing the battle against whatever was attacking them. Dr. Hunt decided to run an emergency blood test to check on his patient's failing kidneys. This time, the news was even worse. Daniel's kidneys had shut down. Dr. Hunt immediately ordered Daniel to be put on dialysis. Without working kidneys to filter his body's waste, Daniel could develop a condition called

uremia, which can lead to seizures, comas, and often death. A nurse promptly wheeled Daniel's bed to an operating room where a surgeon would connect the dialysis machine while Dr. Hunt's mind raced to figure out what was wrong with Daniel, and he knew he did not have much time left. A few hours later, Dr. Hunt sipped a cup of lukewarm coffee as Daniel lay nearly unconscious

while a dialysis machine filtered his blood. Dr. Hunt felt tired and confused. Daniel's symptoms were so extensive and serious that it was difficult to narrow it down to a single cause. Dr. Hunt had ordered lab technicians to run tests for Daniel of virtually every autoimmune disease, but the results kept coming back negative. Early the following morning, the on-duty nurse notified Dr. Hunt that Daniel's oxygen levels had plummeted.

His lungs were now too weak to process oxygen. If it went on much longer, the lack of oxygen in Daniel's blood would cause permanent damage to his brain. Dr. Hunt ordered Daniel to be intubated to help with his breathing and then transferred to the ICU. In the 24 hours since Daniel had stumbled into the hospital, his condition had only grown steadily worse. If Dr. Hunt didn't come up with something quick, it was unlikely Daniel would survive much longer.

Alejandra Flores could not believe her eyes when she walked into the ICU. Her husband Daniel was unconscious, hooked up to a room full of machines with tubes in his arms and down his throat. He was unable to speak. He looked more dead than alive. The day before, when Daniel had told her he was going to the hospital, Alejandra agreed that he did seem sick, but she assumed it was just a bad flu or at least it was just something that could be treated.

So she didn't go with him. But when she didn't hear from him by that evening, she had begun to worry. And then she realized that she didn't even know for sure which hospital he went to. And after only being in the US for four days, neither her nor Daniel had a phone so she couldn't call to find out. And so by today, the following day, with still no word from her husband, Alejandra had panicked. Fortunately though, Daniel had been clear-headed enough to give the interpreter the phone number at their extended family's apartment where his wife and his family were staying.

And so when Alejandra had answered the phone that morning, a Spanish-speaking nurse from the hospital explained her husband's situation. Alejandra was horrified. She left the kids at the apartment and hurried to the hospital. Sitting beside Daniel's bed, Alejandra stroked his hand and prayed. She felt helpless and lost in this strange new place. A few minutes later, a nurse entered and introduced himself as the person Alejandra had spoken to on the phone.

Behind him was an older man in a white coat, Daniel's doctor. The nurse told her there wasn't any time to waste, Daniel was dying, and the hospital could not figure out why. And so to help them, they needed more information about Daniel. Alejandra agreed to help them, but in her head, her husband's warning echoed. Daniel had coached her repeatedly before they'd come to Massachusetts from Mexico to never reveal personal information if asked by any authority figure. Saying the wrong thing could get them into serious trouble.

But now, looking at Daniel, pale and lifeless on the bed, Alejandra could tell this was a different situation. The stakes were too high to hide something that might save the father of her kids. So Alejandra caved and told them her family's story. Dr. Hunt sat there silently, listening closely to every word the translator spoke. Then he thanked Alejandra for sharing and promised he would not tell anyone else, and that thanks to her he actually could save Daniel's life. A couple hours later, the results of Daniel's latest blood test came back,

and Dr. Hunt finally knew what was making him sick. A deadly disease that is almost unheard of in the United States. The condition, called Leptospirosis, is a bacterial disease responsible for nearly 60,000 deaths per year around the world. It's most commonly spread through the urine of infected animals like rats, cattle, dogs, and pigs. The disease-causing bacteria is particularly common in bodies of water after heavy rains when runoff from farms flows into streams and rivers. And thanks to Alejandra's story, Dr. Hunt knew that Daniel had been in a particularly

big river recently. Until last month, she and Daniel had lived their whole lives in central Mexico. But when Daniel lost his job there, they decided to take a chance and travel north in search of better opportunities. They had hiked, climbed, run, and paid strangers for rides across long distances, but when they finally reached the Mexico-Texas border, there was still one more wide muddy obstacle standing between them and their new life in America, the Rio Grande River. To avoid being spotted, they had to cross at night.

Alejandra and Daniel and their kids stuffed all their possessions into plastic bags, then hiked to a bend in the river where the water was slower, then waded in and swam as quickly and quietly as they could across. And that's when Daniel was very likely infected with the Leptospirosis. Alejandra and the kids just happened to get lucky and dodged it, but Daniel was not so lucky, developing symptoms just days after his swim and coming to the brink of multi-organ failure in less than a week. But after six weeks of intensive antibiotics, Daniel was finally released from the hospital

and made a full recovery. His journey to America had nearly killed him, but sharing the truth of his family's story ultimately saved his life. can listen to Mr. Bollin's medical mysteries ad free. Join Wondry Plus today. Before you go, tell us about yourself by completing a short survey at ListenerSurvey.com. From Bollin Studios and Wondry, this is Mr. Bollin's Medical Mysteries, hosted by me, Mr. Bollin. A quick note about our stories. They are all inspired by true events, but we do sometimes use pseudonyms to protect the people involved, and also some details are fictionalized for dramatic purposes. And 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 Britt Brown. Our editor is Heather Dundas. Sound design is by Matthew Cilelli. Our senior managing producer is Callum Plews. And our coordinating producer is Sarah Mathis. Our senior producer is Alex Benedon. Our associate producers and researchers are Sarah Vytak and Tasia Palaconda. Fact checking was done by Sheila Patterson.

For Ballin 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 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 Lor,

and our executive producers are Erin O'Flaherty and Marshall Louis. At 24, I lost my narrative, or rather it was stolen from me. And the Monica Lewinsky that my friends and family knew was usurped by false narratives, callous jokes, and politics. I would define reclaiming as to take back what was yours. Something you possess is lost or stolen. And ultimately, you triumph in finding it again. So I think listeners can expect me

to be chatting with folks, both recognizable and unrecognizable names about the way that people have navigated roads to triumph. My hope is that people will finish an episode of Reclaiming and feel like they filled their tank up. They connected with the people that I'm talking to and leave with maybe some nuggets that help them feel a little more hopeful.

Follow Reclaiming with Monica Lewinsky on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Reclaiming early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple podcasts.