The Lost City of the Monkey God: A True Story(67)

Dave began researching what he might have. “I try not to Google images of disease on the web,” he said. “I’ve given myself two health scares caused by Googling. But this time I did, because I knew my doctors were wrong.”

The pictures that popped up made him think he might have the tropical disease leishmaniasis.

He e-mailed pictures of his bug bite to two fellow photographers at National Geographic who had gotten leishmaniasis while on assignment. One was Joel Sartore, who contracted the disease while shooting in the Bolivian rainforest and who almost lost his leg as a result. Both photographers told Dave that what he had “sure looked like leish.”

Dave sent me an e-mail:


Have you considered the possibility of leishmaniasis? It can be a serious thing. I’m pretty sure that’s what I have, at this point. I’m investigating the situation right now.



I immediately Googled the disease and read about it with fascination and disgust. The images of leish in the early stages did indeed look like my bug bite. The pictures also showed me what it could develop into, and that was a perfect horror. Leishmaniasis is the second deadliest parasitic disease in the world, behind only malaria, and it affects twelve million people worldwide, with around one or two million new cases every year. It kills sixty thousand people a year. Of the leading “neglected tropical diseases” (NTDs) in the world leishmaniasis is one of the most prominent, if not number one. But because it almost always affects poor people in rural areas of the tropics, there is little economic incentive for pharmaceutical companies to develop vaccines or treatments.

Meanwhile, Bill Benenson and Steve began circulating e-mails to the entire group, asking if anyone else had bug bites that weren’t going away. Mark Adams, the sound engineer, reported he had a lesion on his knee. Tom Weinberg had a suspicious ulcer on his knuckle. Mark Plotkin had an unexplained rash. Sully and Woody both had bug bites that were turning into sores.

A few days later—this was in late April 2015—fed up with his local doctors and the Italian ER, Dave went to the largest hospital in Rome and demanded to see a tropical disease specialist there. At the beginning of the examination, when Dave opined that it was leish, the doctor snapped, “No it isn’t.” But by the end of the examination, the doctor agreed that he did indeed appear to have the disease. He suggested Dave return to the States for a more precise diagnosis, since leish is notoriously difficult to identify; it is not a single disease but a suite of diseases caused by some thirty different parasitic species carried by several dozen kinds of sand flies.

On May 2, 2015, Dave sent an e-mail to the group in which he reported on his visit to the tropical disease doctor in Rome and offered some advice:


Brothers in the leish:

Despite the fact nobody from the group has been diagnosed with anything, I’m going to perhaps jump the gun and address one elephant in the room directly. There may be cause to explore the possibility of leishmaniasis in my case, and as I understand the situation, possibly others from the group.



He said he had decided to return to the States for a firm diagnosis and treatment.

This set off a minor panic. Dozens of messages circulated among the expedition members discussing symptoms, real and imagined. Even those without evident signs of leish rushed to their doctors, worried about various complaints—rashes, fevers, headaches, and other ailments. Stomach-turning photographs of everyone’s expanding ulcers were circulated, and circulated again.

Steve Elkins remained exasperatingly healthy, but Bill Benenson had discovered two jungle ticks on himself when he returned to California. While that had not led to anything serious, he was shaken up, and he was very concerned about what was happening to others. He sent out an e-mail:


I feel we should all share our relevant medical information together, if possible and comfortable, to help ourselves and for all future Explorers as well. Let’s remember, we’ve not only made history together in February but that we’re still discovering a great deal that’s new and exciting, about a lost place in a very threatened environment.



I was now thoroughly alarmed about my own sore. Steve Elkins dug up the name of a tropical disease specialist in New Mexico who might be able to help me: Dr. Ravi Durvasula at the Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Albuquerque. Dr. Durvasula was a specialist in “Old World” leishmaniasis. I called the VA hospital hoping to speak to him. An hour later, after multiple phone calls and a mind-boggling number of transfers from one wrong office to another, after being told that no such doctor existed, that the doctor worked there but didn’t take patients, that I wasn’t allowed to speak to his office without a referral, and that the doctor did not take referrals, I gave up. (I can’t imagine how our wounded soldiers negotiate this same telephone system.)

“Forget calling the VA,” Steve said to me. “Send him an e-mail. Be sure to play up the whole expedition thing, the lost city, National Geographic, all that sexy stuff.”

So I did:


Dear Dr. Durvasula,

I am a journalist for National Geographic magazine and The New Yorker… I recently returned from an expedition into an extremely remote area in the La Mosquitia rainforest, exploring a large, unknown pre-Columbian ruin. We were in the jungle from February 17-26. Since that time, four members of the expedition have become ill with the same symptoms… I live in New Mexico and I had heard you were a specialist in leishmaniasis and that is why I’m contacting you to see if you might be willing to take my case.