Helen FieldsScience Writer

Last weekend I wrote a blog post for ScienceNOW about whether “test tube” babies are healthy. Answer: Basically, yes, but the oldest one is only 31, so there’s no way to know about health effects that show up later in life. And there are definitely differences between babies conceived in vitro and babies conceived the natural way. The differences are epigenetic, which means they’re not differences in the genes themselves – they’re related to how the genes get expressed.

This is related to a shift in how people think about biology. For decades after DNA was discovered, everyone was really worked up about the genetic code, and how genes are a blueprint for everything. But the truth is, of course, much more complicated. Just because you have a gene doesn’t mean that it’s being expressed. It might be turned off entirely, or only weakly expressed, or only expressed in some cells and not others. Epigenetics is about looking at differences in how genes are expressed (turned into proteins).

You can understand the blog post even if that doesn’t make sense

Fun fact: They aren’t test tube babies, they’re actually petri dish babies.

Another fun fact: The picture with my story is of an egg being fertilized by intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI) (”icksee”). While in vitro fertilization was developed to get around female infertility, ICSI is for male infertility. As long as the guy is still making some sperm, you can fish them out and inject one right into the egg.

I don’t know how you have fun at your house, but I celebrated Christmas Eve with a story about tooth decay for ScienceNOW. (Ok, I wrote it on the 23rd; it just went through final editing on the 24th.)

The thinking on tooth decay has changed a lot in the last few decades. The people who study oral health used to focus on one organism, Streptococcus mutans, as the culprit in cavities, churning out the acid that destroys enamel.

But now they realize that tons of microbes, from hundreds of species, live in your mouth. Your mouth is like a tropical rainforest, but with Streptococcus and Bifidobacterium and Lactobacillus instead of fig trees and monkeys and toucans. People who study dental disease – and intestinal disease, too – have realized they need to think about the mouth and gut like an ecological system.

The advances in molecular biology in the last couple decades have totally revolutionized the study of microorganisms. In the old days, if you wanted to know what was growing in someone’s mouth, you had to take a sample of goo, then grow it up in the lab to see what you had. The problem is, a lot of bacteria are hard to culture. They’re finicky eaters. Some won’t grow in the presence of oxygen. But now, scientists can take that goo, extract DNA, and census the bugs without having to culture them.

That means scientists are getting more of a handle on all the different jungles in your body. You are so majorly outnumbered by bacteria. There’s one of you and a bazillion of them. They live in your intestines, in your nose, in your mouth, on your skin. You’re even outnumbered at the cell level. There are more bacterial cells in and on your body than human cells. Don’t worry, you’re still mostly human if you measure by volume; bacterial cells are much, much smaller than mammal cells.

Photo: Bifidobacterium dentium, courtesy of the Ventura Lab

Well, you don’t see that every day.

This was in front of a teaching hospital. My guess is they’re for people to practice doing intubations. (Anybody know for sure?)

In Bangladesh, millions of people drink contaminated water that’s contaminated with arsenic. This isn’t like in a mystery novel when someone gets poisoned with arsenic. You don’t keel over dead. Water with arsenic in it is lovely and clean and doesn’t need to be boiled – and in the long term, it increases cancer risk as much as smoking.

Today I wrote for ScienceNOW about a new study on arsenic in Bangladesh. Some researchers from MIT think they’ve figured out why some water has more arsenic than other water. Special microbes dissolve the arsenic from the sediment into the water, and they need a carbon source – so the scientists who study arsenic in Southeast Asia are arguing over where that carbon comes from. The new study gives one answer to that question. Read my story here.

In the meantime, people in Bangladesh need low-arsenic water. Filters work, but they’re expensive and need maintenance. Deeper wells tap into deeper aquifers with less arsenic, but they’re also expensive, and as water is sucked out of the deep aquifer, higher-arsenic water could sink down from above.

I thought it was fascinating that the people of Bangladesh have traded deaths from water-borne disease for long-term cancer risks, but I talked to an epidemiologist, Allan Smith at Berkeley, who figures it’s not worth arguing over which was worse. “For me, it’s not something I’ve ever cared to try to quantify. Clearly we want to reduce the deaths from gastroenteritis and clearly we want to reduce the deaths from arsenic. We should just move forward.”

So, I’m sitting here at my desk at Die Welt a few minutes ago and my neighbor’s phone rings. This happens often. But then I notice that she’s leaning over, looking at my phone, and reading off my phone number. She hung up and told me it was a secretary, and shrugged – she didn’t know what it was about.

The secretary calls and says, “Frau Fields? Do you speak German?” And I said, “More or less.” She said, “I have a reader on the line, I’ll transfer you.” And I was like, uhh, uhh, and there he was. Yesterday the 19-year-old intern and I co-wrote a story about chronic kidney disease and kidney failure. (Really, it was mostly her – she’s young, but she’s good. Also, she speaks German and can interview people.)

The nice man told me he’d read my article in today’s paper about kidney disease, and I’d mentioned a test to detect protein in the urine. Well, yesterday his wife had a blood test at the hospital, and he had the test results, and could I tell him what the line about protein meant?

Uhhhhh….no. No, I could not tell him that. We chatted a bit about tests for kidney function, agreed that it was best to talk to the doctor (he relayed this to his wife) and he thanked me for such an informative article and told me to keep up the good work.

I pretty much feel like now I am a German superstar, although I didn’t understand everything he said, I stumbled a bit while talking, and, yeah, I totally couldn’t answer his question. Man, I haven’t gotten a call from a reader in forever. It’s the last day of my fellowship – not a bad way to end.

Fascinating German fact of the day: the word for “birth control pill” is apparently Antibabypille. Well, it’s descriptive, isn’t it? I’m reading an article in Die Welt about a woman who was taking birth control pills and died of a pulmonary embolism – which is the much more straightforward Lungenembolie. (It’s an embolism…in your lungs!)

After more than a week of gastrointestinal distress, I finally got a verdict: norovirus. I don’t recommend it. The good news is that I’m going to finally start my fellowship this week. You know, the reason I came over here. This. Yayyyyy.

I’m so glad I asked the downstairs neighbor to do my shopping today (my illness being such that I really don’t want to leave my apartment unless it’s for a medical facility). He was fast, and it wasn’t out of his way, which was nice, but most importantly: I got to learn the ultimate German home remedy for stomach problems.

There it is, my friends. This is the value of life overseas: learning that, whatever ails your digestive system, what you really need is pretzel sticks and coke. Two doctors did ask me if I was drinking coke and seemed a little surprised that I wasn’t. I look forward to trying the local folk remedy this afternoon.

Yeah, I haven’t really blogged this week. You know why? I’ve been sick. You know the only thing worse than being sick? Being sick in a foreign country. My fellow Berlin-based Burns Fellows turn out to be princes among men and women, and they’ve been taking turns coming to my apartment with bananas, white bread, ginger ale, and other essentials to the life of a person whose digestive system is running completely freaking amok.

I finally went to the doctor today – perky, ponytail, jeans – and she told me it’s probably a virus and to avoid meat, milk, and “Hülsenfrüchte.” That last one stumped me, so she made me write it down, and I just looked it up: legumes. In case you were wondering how to say “legumes” in German. And surely someone was.

So, there’s hope. It’s probably not appendicitis. That was one of the few times I lapsed into English during the appointment. Doctor: [poking at the lower right side of my belly] [in german] “You still have your appendix.” Me: “Ja. I don’t want appendicitis.” Her: [in german] “Then we won’t talk about it anymore.”

Here’s how you know you’re on a ship:

All the computers are tied down. I don’t think we’ve actually had any boat movement that would be dramatic enough to slide a laptop off a table, but I’m glad they’re tied down anyway. This is one of the public laptops with internet. Instruments in the lab are tied down, too. Also, a lot of work surfaces have some kind of sticky, rubbery mesh material stretched over them and stapled down, so you can set things down and be pretty sure they won’t slide away.

I was worried about seasickness before I came on board, but here’s the result: I never had any. Well, I never got nauseous. For one thing, the ship just didn’t move that much. In the ice, it mostly kind of bounces around – not the steady movement that makes you sick – and we were in the ice for the vast majority of the trip. When we did get into open water with some swells, all it did was make me a bit sleepy. We’re back in open water now, but the big, scary, stormy Bering Sea is doing its best impression of a pond.

I did get land-sick early in the trip – I’d feel dizzy when we stopped all day at the ice. I’m kind of dreading being really back on land. A science writer friend of mine who used to be an oceanographer told me he was always land-sick for three times as long as he was on the boat, which would put me into early August. Yikes. Let’s hope I’m not like him. (Well, other than his wild success as a freelancer.)