15 June 19th - June 25st, 2025 phoenixnewtimes.com PHOENIX NEW TIMES | NEWS | FEATURE | FOOD & DRINK | ARTS & CULTURE | MUSIC | CONCERTS | CANNABIS | from an insidious desert fungus John Galgiani has made it a life mission to get more people talking about coccid- ioidomycosis. That’s the technical name of valley fever, and if it merely twists your tongue, consider yourself lucky. Something like 5% of people in Phoenix will, at some point, develop an infection from Coccidioides, a fungus found in southwestern desert climes. A single spore can set up residence in your lungs and move from there to other parts of your system, including, cata- strophically, your brain. Most people will suffer through mild symptoms and soon enough feel just fine. Others can wind up on anti-fungals the rest of their lives, or straight-up die. From one fucking spore. “Living here,” Gagliani said, “is the risk.” Galgiani is a doctor and a professor of medicine at the University of Arizona’s two colleges of medicine, as well as the director of the university’s Valley Fever Center for Excellence and the Banner University Health Valley Fever Program. His fascination with infectious diseases goes back to studying medicine at Stanford in the 1970s. At that time, coccidioidomycosis was most closely associated with California’s San Joaquin Valley, which gives valley fever its name. As Arizona’s population boomed, Phoenix became the more vulnerable valley, with Arizona accounting for 60% of the 25,000 valley fever cases diag- nosed in 2024. Per the Centers for Disease Control, the actual case counts could be 10 to 18 times higher and contribute to 1,000 deaths a year. Since the mid-’90s, Galgiani has led the charge in Arizona to, in his words, “take some responsibility” for addressing a disease that will roam ever-wider as climate change desertifies the American West. Haboobs get the blame for many valley fever cases: They’re big and woolly and more than capable of wafting a spore into your nostrils. But Galgiani says you’re not in significantly greater danger of valley fever during the summer, storms notwithstanding. Rather, you’re also never exactly safe, especially if you go into the Sonoran Desert. Your ground- snuffling dogs, too, are at risk. Most people who get the disease won’t ever know it. If you do suspect coccidioidomycosis — you’re feeling generally sick or fatigued or weird-rashy — ask your doctor or a walk-in clinician for a test. Patients who get tested early fare much better. Look for a vaccine, discovered at U of A and currently in development, in the coming years. “The more you know about the disease, the less scary it is as a risk per person,” Galgiani says. “But it’s still 5% of the population. That’s a real number.” – Sam Eifling in a hot apartment When Stacy Patterson’s oldest daughter was born, doctors thought she had a slim chance of survival. Little Kenedy weighed less than four pounds and was diagnosed with Edward’s syndrome, cerebral palsy, epilepsy and other disabil- ities that render her unable to walk and communicate. Nearly 28 years later, Kenedy has long since proved those doctors wrong. But after moving from Indiana to Casa Grande 16 years ago, she now faces another danger. While Arizona’s dry climate has limited Kenedy’s previously frequent bouts of pneumonia, the heat leaves her unable to regulate her body temperature. Because of her conditions, Kenedy’s body does not sweat. When the air conditioning is on and at full blast, that’s hardly a problem. But in late March, the nearly 20-year- old air conditioning unit in Patterson’s home started acting up. The home’s temperature continued to rise and rise. An electrician patched it but told her that it was “on borrowed time.” A new unit would cost her at least $9,200, which is money Patterson doesn’t have. On the other hand, a malfunctioning unit could kill her daughter. Broken or nonexistent AC units frequently spell death in Arizona. Of the 138 indoor heat-related deaths in Maricopa County last year, 88% occurred in spaces that had no air conditioning system. Among deaths where an AC unit was present, it wasn’t functioning in 70% of cases. “That’s what makes it such an emer- gency for us,” Patterson said of her cranky AC unit. Due to Kenedy’s significant medical needs — an expensive medical bed, a power lift and a therapy room with all her supplies — the family can’t just “can’t just pick up and go somewhere else.” What will Patterson do if the AC does die during the height of summer? “I’m just trying not to think about it,” she said. – Morgan Fischer It’s A Die Heat from p 13
