What I'm Reading Now-The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic--and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World

The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic--and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern Worldby Steven Johnson-In 1854 cholera swept through the Soho district in London, killing hundreds of people in a matter of days. Popular theories at the time blamed miasma (bad air) or the weak constitutions and filthy living conditions of the lower classes for these deaths; but the Reverend Whitehead, who attended many of these deaths, noticed that class and cleanliness seemed to have nothing to do with who was dying. Cholera appeared to be an equal-opportunity killer. At the same time, Dr. Snow, who was an expert in anesthesia and had done many experiments with vaporous substances like ether and chloroform, thought that the whole miasma theory was a bunch of bunk. He suspected that cholera was spread via the water supply and set out to prove his theory.

Dr. Snow was up against some strong opposition, mainly the head honcho of the health department who was an adamant miasmatist (?). In an effort to clear the air of London, this guy whose name I can't remember (I'll call him Bob the Killer) decided that all the cesspits and sewers of London could no longer be allowed to stagnate and foul the air with their deadly smells. Good thinking Bob the Killer-stagnate, overflowing cesspits are nasty, nasty things! To remedy this, they would all drain into the Thames, which happened to supply most of London's drinking water. Bad, bad Bob the Killer! (Some of these details might be slightly off-I've already returned the book to the library and I'm finding that my memory for details has deteriorated rapidly since high school-but the general gist is correct.)

Anyway, Dr. Snow and the Reverend Whitehead were able to work together in a remarkably effective manner to determine not only the source of the outbreak but also to establish a new theory of epidemiology. Bob the Killer drowned in a cesspit, complaining the entire time of the dangerous stink. I'm just kidding. I don't remember what happened to Bob the Killer, but I think he died spouting miasmatic bunk.

I enjoyed this book, but then I like stuff about cholera and the plague and all sorts of fun things like that. This book definitely has a pretty high gross-out factor though, so if you have a low tolerance for talk of poo and sewage and such, you might want to avoid this one. I thought Johnson did a good job of explaining how and why London ended up in the state that it was in-millions of people crammed into a small space with no effective way of handling all of their waste is the short answer. It was also an interesting look at cities and how the very thing that makes them susceptible to epidemics-lots of people in close proximity to one another-also makes them the ideal setting for problem solving and innovation, the type of problem solving that can help us avoid epidemics in the future. I also found the "scientific" theories and psychology of the day quite interesting. While it's very easy for me to sit here at my computer and mock Bob the Killer from the distant 21st century, I can see where he was coming from, and I wonder what theories we have today that people will look back on 150 years from now and go, "Whaaaaaa....?"

Green Ooze

4/19-The dream: I am at my aunt's house with my mom, and we are getting ready for bed. Morph to my old house, my parents' bedroom. In the bathroom, my ruffle-y white skirt & blouse outfit is on the floor where I discarded it earlier, and this cough-syrup green liquid is starting to ooze from the white subway tiles on the wall. I see it coming, I know it's going to get all over the floor and onto my clothes (which I just picked up from the dry cleaner!) but I don't act fast enough to keep it from happening. I wait until just a 1/2 second too late, then move my clothes, knowing that there is going to be a (possibly irremovable) stain. Dammit. Why can't I just act on stuff instead of waiting until it's too late? We are trying to leave the house. My mom is going to turn off the water under the sink because now there is water (green ooze? I can't remember now) everywhere. I'm glad she has the presence of mind to do this now. I was ready to bolt, knowing full well that it would be a huge mess by the time we were able to get someone here to help. My mom is dating one of my husband's ex-employees, whom I will call Rail Road. They are breaking up and he is going...back to wherever he came from, I guess. I am bummed by this. He gives me a huge, pick-me-up-off-the-floor, I'm-really-going-to-miss-you, you-know-I'll-always-love-you hug and we engage in an intimate tete-a-tete for a few minutes before he goes. I am sitting outside in a square on some big white steps, like outside the Washington Monument or in front of the Taj Mahal, something like that. It's a beautiful sunny day with a blue sky and light wind.

The interpretation: I always dream about my old house, so I've sort of stopped analyzing that portion of most of my dreams. Now that I think about it though, I do tend to dream of my mom and bathrooms a lot, usually with overflowing issues of some kind. Huh. This could relate to my family's fabulous method of dealing with issues which is this: 1) Ignore it and hope that it goes away. 2) When it doesn't go away, deal with it, but don't tell anyone else about it in order to save them from worry. 3) When the situation gets so out of hand that you can no longer a) hide it or b) suppress your feelings about it any longer, overwhelm the rest of the family by flooding them (aha!) with the informational and/or emotional backlog. Also, my sister and I both have a lot of issues with our mother surrounding our parents' divorce. Even though it's been 18 years now, many of the wounds are still...well, not fresh, exactly, but not well-healed either. So, anyway, I think that's why my mom is often associated with issues of overflowing crap in my dreams.

The green ooze-I don't know what the hell that was about. I've never dreamed about green ooze before. It didn't really seem toxic or anything, just messy.

The fact that I couldn't get my nice, white clothes out of the way in time-I think that's pretty straight forward. I did actually just pick up that outfit from the dry cleaner, so I think that was just fresh in my mind. I am terribly guilty of having plenty of lead time on something and then waiting until the last minute to take action on it or knowing that I should do something, not doing it, and then smacking myself on the forehead later for it.

My mom saving the day with her plumber's skills-I don't know what the hell that's all about. My mom is generally the cause of the overflowing crap, not the fixer of it.

My willingness to bolt and leave a huge mess-I don't know what that's all about either. I am not a bolter. I am the person who will stick around way after everyone else has quit trying, even when it has become clear to everyone, myself included, that I am fighting a losing battle. Maybe this is me saying I'm finally done trying to clean up the wreckage. If my mom wants to fix it, she needs to jump in and do it.

My mom's boyfriend-This is the part that's kind of freaking me out. In real life, I can't stand my mom's husband. Nobody can. The dream boyfriend, however, is totally sexy and flirt-worthy in real life. Maybe just wishful thinking that Mom would have hooked up with someone likeable? Did I mention he is about my age? I could probably delve a lot deeper into this, but I think there are some Freudian implications here that I really don't want to explore. I don't know. This person has also been the topic of many recent conversations and did move away a while ago, so perhaps my dream is just another manifestation of top-of-mind stuff (I hope, I hope).

Outside on the sunny steps with the wind blowing-I have two theories, one straight forward and boring, the other much deeper and more introspective...or at least a little less boring than the first. Theory 1: I have been talking about traveling to DC lately, so this part of my dream is another top-of-mind thing. Theory 2: There are still bright days ahead. Even after all the crap, all the flooding, all the leaving of loved-ones, that stuff will all disappear, at least long enough to sit outside and enjoy a beautiful sunny day.