Another Turn of the Worm

Last July, I attempted to take Stephen Colbert to task for some subliminal suggestions in one of his pieces.

He has so far ignored me.

Last month, I stumbled upon a possible and disturbing origin for the caduceus of Asklepius in Carl Zimmer's Parasite Rex:

The quivering strings of flesh . . . now known as guinea worms . . . couldn't be yanked out at one go, since they would snap in two and the remnant inside the body would die and cause a fatal infection. The universal cure for guinea worm was to rest for a week, slowly winding the worm turn by turn onto a stick to keep it alive until it had crawled free. Someone figured out this cure, someone forgotten now for perhaps thousands of years. But it may be that that person's invention was remembered in (today's) symbol of medicine. . . . (Zimmer, Parasite Rex, Touchstone, 2000, p. 2.)

That got me to thinking. The old caduceus, with the twining serpents, was often found in medical books, but referred to the Hermetic arts of medicine. Could there be a parasitic connection?

Intestinal tapeworms, for example, sometimes grow to 60 feet, and rarely dwell alone. Perhaps purveyors of efficacious herbs used two serpents as a symbol to indicate an infestation. Rex cites the right spice in abundance as a convenient way to flush such nuissances from the bowels.

Back to Dracunculus medinensis, that nasty guinea worm: ( Those easily grossed out probably should avoid seeing guinea worms extracted in color. )

World Health Organization