Deadly listeria outbreak linked to chicken alfredo fettuccine sold at Kroger and Walmart

32.8-ounce trays of Marketside Grilled Chicken Alfredo with Fettuccine Tender Pasta with Creamy Alfredo Sauce, White Meat Chicken and Shaved Parmesan Cheese with best-by dates of June 27 or earlier.
12.3-ounce trays of Marketside Grilled Chicken Alfredo with Fettuccine Tender Pasta with Creamy Alfredo Sauce, White Meat Chicken, Broccoli and Shaved Parmesan Cheese with best-by dates of June 26 or earlier.
12.5-ounce trays of Home Chef Heat & Eat Chicken Fettucine Alfredo with Pasta, Grilled White Meat Chicken and Parmesan Cheese, with best-by dates of June 19 or earlier.
The strain of listeria bacteria that made people sick was found in a sample of chicken fettuccine alfredo during a routine inspection in March, U.S. Agriculture Department officials said. That product was destroyed and never sent to stores.
Advertisement
Officials said they have not identified the specific source of the contamination. Cases have been identified through retail shopper records and interviews with sick people.
The listeria strain tied to the outbreak has been detected in people who fell ill between July 24 and May 10, the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported. The deaths were in Illinois, Michigan and Texas. Cases have been reported in Florida, Illinois, Indiana, Louisiana, Michigan, Minnesota, Missouri, North Carolina, Nevada, Ohio, South Carolina, Texas and Virginia.
The number of sick people is likely higher than now known and cases may be detected in additional states. Officials are continuing to receive reports of illnesses linked to the product and 'are concerned that contamination is still occurring,' the CDC said.
Advertisement
Consumers shouldn't eat the products, which may be in their refrigerators or freezers. They should be thrown away or returned to the place of purchase.
Listeria infections can cause serious illness, particularly in older adults, people with weakened immune systems and those who are pregnant or their newborns. Symptoms include fever, muscle aches, headache, stiff neck, confusion, loss of balance and convulsions.
About 1,600 people get sick each year from listeria infections and about 260 die, the CDC said. Federal officials in December said they were revamping protocols to prevent listeria infections after several high-profile outbreaks, including one linked

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Learn with AIFact CheckingText to SpeechAI Summary

Related Articles

Forbes

2 hours ago

• Forbes

3Daughters redesigns IUD to eliminate insertion pain for women.

For decades, women seeking long-acting birth control have endured a painful and outdated process: IUD insertion. Despite growing demand for non-hormonal birth control, the devices available today—primarily T-shaped, plastic-framed IUDs—haven't evolved much in over 30 years. Insertion pain is so common that it's often dismissed as routine, even though women regularly faint, vomit, or scream during the procedure. Now, 3Daughters is challenging that status quo with a bold redesign of the IUD that centers on comfort, science, and empathy. IUDs are among the most effective forms of long-acting reversible contraception (LARC), but the experience of getting one is often traumatic. Only 5.36% of IUD insertions include any form of medication for pain or anxiety, according to a recent study. That's despite widespread social media reports—videos of women crying, screaming, or passing out in the doctor's office, which have gone viral in recent years. While the CDC updated its clinical guidance in 2023 to urge doctors to take IUD pain more seriously, the clinical reality has changed little. 'The pain can be excruciating, but many women aren't warned,' said Kelsey Craig, a 24-year-old IUD user in Massachusetts. 'I was told it would feel like a cramp. I nearly passed out.' And yet, demand for IUDs continues to rise. The global contraceptive market, valued at $31 billion in 2024, is projected to reach $44 billion by 2030, with IUDs accounting for over $6.5 billion in 2024 and expected to reach $8 billion by 2030. That growth underscores a frustrating contradiction: Women are choosing these devices despite the pain because hormonal alternatives may be less desirable or because the IUD offers unmatched convenience. Mary Beth Cicero, CEO and cofounder at 3Daughters 3Daughters is developing a frameless, nonhormonal IUD designed to eliminate insertion pain and modernize long-acting contraception. When Mary Beth Cicero, a veteran of the pharmaceutical industry, first learned of a magnetic IUD invented by a veterinary specialist for horses, she saw an opening to do something radically better for women. She launched 3Daughters in 2021 with a vision to reengineer the IUD to meet the needs and anatomy of women better, starting with pain reduction. The company's solution: a frameless, magnetic, self-assembling IUD that conforms to the uterus, eliminating the rigid arms and dangling strings of the T-shaped models. It's bendable. The 2-millimeter inserter is designed to reduce trauma during placement, drawing inspiration from embryo-transfer catheters used in in vitro fertilization (IVF). 'IUD pain is criminal,' said Cicero. 'We're not just offering a different shape—we're removing the steps that cause pain.' The new system is also non-hormonal, using copper as the active ingredient—a material long recognized by the FDA for its safety and efficacy. That regulatory history allowed 3Daughters to pursue a 505(b)(2) FDA approval pathway—a faster track for products that build on already-approved ingredients. 'As an early investor in 3Daughters, we've had the privilege of watching them pursue a bold, overdue vision for women's health—led by empathy, guided by science,' explains Thomas Osha, executive vice president at Wexford Science & Technology. 'Their ground-breaking approach and frameless uterine delivery platform address the pain and barriers associated with traditional IUD insertion.' Cicero has had to fight hard to get here, and not just on the product side. Early fundraising was challenging, especially when many male investors didn't believe IUD insertion pain was a real problem. 'One even suggested spraying a little lidocaine,' she recalled. Still, Cicero persisted. Drawing on her years of experience in marketing, business development, and regulatory strategy, she wrote grant proposals, pitched investors, and recruited a high-performance team. In under four years, she secured $6.5 million in funding, developed a working prototype, and held multiple meetings with the FDA. 'I've cried in my soup, but I got back up,' she said. 'Every 'no' is fuel to find the next 'yes'.' That resilience has paid off. Last year, 3Daughters was awarded an NIH grant to complete a preclinical trial. Unfortunately, layoffs at NIH have slowed the start of the study. The company has also filed for additional SBIR grants to support Phase 1 trials. Cicero's goal is to partner with a major player to scale distribution eventually. There's momentum behind 3Daughters—and the broader women's health movement as well. Investors like the Argosy Foundation see the company as a signal of what's possible when innovation centers the patient, not just the product. 'We believe in the transformative potential of 3Daughters' novel integrated IUD system,' said Emily Van Dunk, Argosy's executive director. 'It has the potential to make a significant impact for women.' With clinical trials on the horizon and interest building, 3Daughters isn't just bringing a new IUD to market—it's challenging long-held assumptions about what women should tolerate. 'Women deserve options that work with their bodies, not against them,' said Cicero. For a generation of women who've been told to 'grin and bear' IUD insertion pain, a solution is finally in development. 3Daughters's innovative approach offers hope that comfort, safety, and dignity will become the new standard in contraceptive care.

News24

6 hours ago

• News24

These are the children the United States left to die in Mozambique

In Mozambique, the health system is overwhelmingly built on US money. When the Trump administration instantly pulled much of this funding without warning, disease and death spread. Spotlight and GroundUp visited one of the worst affected regions to describe the human toll. Hospitals run short of life-saving drugs. Doctors and nurses are laid off en masse. Hospital lines get longer and longer. Some patients are given the wrong medication, likely because the data capturers (who manage patient files) have lost their jobs. Community case workers who deliver HIV medication to orphaned children stop coming. Without their antiretrovirals (ARVs), some of these children die, GroundUp reports. Following US President Donald Trump's executive order to suspend US global aid funding on 20 January, the health system in parts of Mozambique fell into a state of chaos. US aid agencies had financed much of the country's healthcare workforce, along with the transportation of drugs and diagnostic tests to government hospitals. In some provinces, this money came from the US Centres for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), which restored much of its funding shortly after the executive order. But in the central provinces of Sofala and Manica the money came from the US Agency for International Development (USAID), which permanently pulled most of its grants. For a week in June, I travelled to nine rural villages and towns across the two provinces. Interviews with grieving caregivers, health workers and government officials across these settlements all converged on one clear and near-universal conclusion: the funding cuts have led to the deaths of children. One of the clearest reasons is this. After USAID-backed community health workers were dismissed, thousands of HIV-positive children under their care were abandoned. Panic at all levels In 2020, a Sofala-based organisation called ComuSanas received a large USAID grant to employ hundreds of community workers throughout rural parts of the province. 'The project aimed to reduce mortality among children living with HIV,' says Joaquim Issufo, a former community worker with the project. He spoke to me from a street market in the impoverished district of Buzi, where he now runs a stall selling fish. 'We worked with children aged 0 to 17, especially orphans and vulnerable children.' These children live in remote villages, far away from public amenities. Some were found living in homes without any adults. Many others live with an elderly grandparent who can barely afford to feed them. Jesse Copelyn/GroundUp In the midst of poverty and isolation, the case workers, known locally as activists, functioned as a bridge between these children and the country's hospitals. They shuttled diagnostic tests between communities and health facilities. They brought children their medicines and ensured they took the correct doses at the right times. And they accompanied them to health facilities, and helped them weave through bureaucracy. Issufo notes that their role also extended far beyond health: they organised birth certificates, enrolled children in schools and referred them for housing. When drought and famine ripped through villages, they brought food baskets and provided nutritional education. In the villages that I went to, children and their caregivers referred to the activists as 'mother', 'father' or 'sister', and said that they were like family members. But after USAID issued stop-work orders to ComuSanas in January, those 'mothers and fathers' abruptly stopped visiting, and suddenly the region's most desperate children were left to fend for themselves. Issufo says that after this, there was 'panic at all levels, both for us as activists and also for our beneficiaries'. Children hospitalised and left for dead About 80km from Issufo's fish stall is the village of Tica, in the Nhamatanda district. Amid homes of mud brick and thatch, a group of former ComuSanas activists sit on logs, buckets and reed mats and explain the consequences of the programme's termination. '[Before the USAID cuts], I was taking care of a boy because [he] lives with an elderly woman, and she had to work,' says Marta Jofulande, 'I had to go to the health facility and give the child his [ARV] medication. I also helped to do things like preparing food. But with this suspension, I couldn't go anymore.' Jesse Copelyn/GroundUp Shortly after, Jofulande was told by the child's elderly caregiver that he had fallen ill, and was in critical care at a central hospital. 'I was the one bringing the [ARVs] to him,' says Jofulande, 'As soon as the programme stopped, he no longer took the medication, and that's when he relapsed. He is in a very critical condition and is breathing through a tube.' 'His name is Cleiton,' she adds. 'He's eight years old.' Jesse Copelyn/GroundUp Many other children have already perished. A 20-minute drive from Tica is the settlement of Mutua, in the Dondo district. There, activist Carlota Francisco says, 'During this pause, we had cases [of children] that were really critical that ended up losing their lives.' One of them had been a 2-year-old girl under her care. 'That child depended on me,' says Francisco, who explains that she would fetch and provide the girl's ARVs. After she stopped, she says the girl's caregivers failed to give her the correct dosages. The 2-year-old died shortly thereafter. Stories such as this were repeated in almost every village that we visited. Often, children or their caregivers attempted to get the medication without the activists. But many of the hospitals were in a state of chaos because USAID-funded health workers and data capturers had been laid off. The linkage officers that knew these children and had previously assisted them were gone too. (The procurement of the country's ARVs is financed by The Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria. This money continues to flow, but the distribution of these drugs to hospitals relies on US money.) Endless queues, drug shortages and the loss of patient files meant some didn't get their medication. Rates of ARV treatment fall throughout the province The director of health for the Buzi district, Roque Junior Gemo, explains that a key role of the community workers had been to extend health services to remote areas that they had long struggled to reach. 'They are like our tree branches to bring services to the people,' says Gemo, 'Our villages are very remote, and we have a large population that needs information [and] basic services.' 'Especially in the HIV area, we have terminal patients who were once followed up by activists. They used to get medications at home. Without that help, their condition worsened, and some died.' This forms part of an issue that extends far beyond the district of Buzi. In the Sofala capital of Beira, I sat down with some of the province's senior health officials. The HIV supervisor for the province, Manuel Seco, provided data on the HIV response in Sofala, before and after the cuts. Between May and December of 2024, the total number of people on ARVs in the province had risen by over 20 /000 people, the data shows. This increase occurred steadily, rising by 500 to 5 000 people each month. But as soon as the cuts were made, this progress was halted and the trend reversed. Since January, the number of people on ARV treatment has been falling by hundreds of people each month. The reason, according to Seco, is that many people who were on ARVs have stopped their treatment, while new ARV initiations have dropped sharply. And the impact extends far beyond just the HIV response. Jesse Copelyn/GroundUp TB left untreated Buried within a compound owned by Tongaat Hulett is a government hospital that services the rural population of Mafambisse, in Dondo district. Joaquim Mupanguiua, who deals with TB at the hospital, says that after the activists were laid off, the hospital saw a steep decline in the number of TB patients coming to the facility. 'Only when they are already very ill do they come to the health unit,' he says. 'But with the activists they would easily go to the communities and find the sick.' Indeed the number of patients coming to the hospital is roughly a third of what it once was: 'We used to get around 28 to 30 [TB] patients per month, but now we're down to fewer than 10,' Mupanguiua notes. Because patients come to the hospital when they're already severely ill, there's significantly less that health facilities can do for them. It's thus no surprise that Mupanguiua believes that there has been an uptick in needless TB deaths. Finding other ways Back in the Buzi district office, Gemo says that efforts have been made to assist terminal patients that had previously been supported by activists, but there are so many people in need that they aren't able to help everyone. Activists often said something similar – they continue to visit their beneficiaries when they can, they say, but without ComuSanas sponsoring their transport costs, many struggle to visit children in remote areas. And the loss of their income with the programme means that they now need to spend their days finding other ways to survive – subsistence farming and street markets are the usual routes. But this work rarely offers the kind of regular income that ComuSanas had been providing. 'Honestly, buying notebooks, pens and clothes for my children [has become] very difficult,' says Dondo-based activist, Brito Balao. Meanwhile, in Tica, activists asked how they could provide food to their former beneficiaries when they are themselves going hungry. Despite this, the activists still live within the same villages as their beneficiaries. And so unlike those in Washington, they cannot withdraw their support without facing the resentment or desperation of their communities. 'We work with love, and we get really sad not being able to be there for those kids,' says one Mutua-based activist. 'There's even another family that cried today [when they saw me]. 'You've been away for a while,' they said. Gosh, we feel bad.' Among former beneficiaries of the programme the sense of abandonment was palpable, and their anger was often directed at the former activists. This was often compounded by the fact that no one had explained to them why the programme had stopped. Jesse Copelyn/GroundUp In the village of Nharuchonga, Joana, explains that in the past her activist, Fatima, would always come and ensure that her daughter took her ARVs. Now that Fatima has stopped coming, her daughter doesn't always take the medication, she says. (Fatima is present during this conversation.) 'We've been abandoned by Fatima,' she states, looking directly away from the former activist. 'Until now we have been too shy to ask why she has abandoned us.' In many other cases, the tone was simply one of sadness. Back in Tica, inside an outdoor kitchen made of corrugated iron sheets, Maria holds her five-year-old granddaughter Teresa. Despite facing hunger at various points over recent years, she cooks sweet potatoes above a small fire, and insists that everyone eats. Both of Teresa's parents died of AIDS, says Maria. It has been left to her to raise the child, all the while trying to grow rice and maize for subsistence – an effort hampered by frequent drought. For a long time Maria has had help with this parental role, she says. Activist Marta Jofulande had been assisting her family and acting like a mother to the child. But since the programme was terminated, they don't see much of Jofulande anymore. Instead, five-year-old Teresa has been forced to deal with the exit of yet another parental figure./ A note on quotes: Most of our interviews were in Portuguese and were mediated by a local translator. We subsequently transcribed and translated the recordings of these interviews using AI-based software, including Descript and ChatGPT. Where there was a significant mismatch between the interpretations of the translator and the software, we contacted the interviewee or got third parties to help translate the recordings. The cost of travel, accommodation and the journalist's remuneration was shared between GroundUp and Spotlight.

Health Line

10 hours ago

• Health Line

The Progression of Hepatitis C: What Are the Stages?

Key takeaways Every case of hepatitis C begins as an acute infection. Infections that last more than 6 months are considered chronic. Many people with hepatitis C end up with chronic hepatitis C that can last a lifetime. The consequences of long-term infection include liver damage, liver cancer, and even death. Early detection and treatment are key for stopping the progression of hepatitis C and avoiding major complications. Hepatitis C is an infection caused by the hepatitis C virus (HCV) that leads to liver inflammation. Symptoms can be mild for many years, even while liver damage is taking place. Many people with hepatitis C end up with chronic hepatitis C that can last a lifetime. The consequences of long-term infection include liver damage, liver cancer, and even death. Early detection and treatment are key for stopping the progression of hepatitis C and avoiding major complications. How HCV is transmitted HCV is a bloodborne pathogen. That means the virus is transmitted through contact with blood that contains HCV. To reduce your risk of exposure: Avoid sharing razors, nail clippers, toothbrushes, and other personal hygiene items. Avoid sharing needles, syringes, and other sharps. Disinfect wounds and surfaces touched by blood and other bodily fluids as soon as possible. Patronize tattoo and body piercing studios that practice proper sterilization practices. HCV usually isn't transmitted through sexual contact, but it's possible. Using condoms, gloves, and other barrier methods during sexual activity can help reduce your risk. Birthing parents with HCV can also transmit the virus during childbirth, but not through nursing. Early warning signs In most cases, there are no early warning signs. Most people are symptom-free and remain unaware of the infection. Others experience mild symptoms, such as fatigue and loss of appetite, which tend to resolve independently. According to the World Health Organization (WHO), around 30% of people clear the infection within 6 months of exposure without medical intervention. Acute hepatitis C The acute phase of hepatitis C is the first 6 months after contracting HCV. Early symptoms may include: fever fatigue loss of appetite nausea and vomiting In most cases, symptoms clear up within a few weeks. If your immune system doesn't fight the infection on its own, it enters the chronic phase. Given the vague nature of the symptoms, hepatitis C may go unnoticed for years. It's often discovered during a blood test that's being done for other reasons. Chronic hepatitis C Approximately 70% of people will go on to develop chronic hepatitis C. However, even in the chronic phase, it may take years for symptoms to show. The progression begins with inflammation of the liver, followed by the death of liver cells. This causes scarring and hardening of liver tissue. Roughly 15–30% of people with chronic hepatitis C go on to develop cirrhosis of the liver within 20 years. Cirrhosis of the liver When permanent scar tissue replaces healthy liver cells, and your liver loses the ability to function, it's called cirrhosis. In this condition, your liver can no longer heal itself. This can cause fluid to build up in your abdomen and the veins in your esophagus to bleed. When the liver fails to filter toxins, they can build up in your bloodstream and impair brain function. Cirrhosis of the liver can sometimes develop into liver cancer. This risk is greater in people who drink excess alcohol. Treatment of cirrhosis depends on the progression of the condition. End-stage hepatitis C Chronic hepatitis C can cause serious long-term health consequences when it leads to liver scarring. End-stage hepatitis C occurs when the liver is severely damaged and can no longer function properly. Symptoms may include: fatigue nausea and vomiting loss of appetite abdominal swelling yellowing of the skin and eyes (jaundice) muddled thinking People with cirrhosis may also experience bleeding in the esophagus, as well as brain and nervous system damage. A liver transplant is the only treatment for end-stage liver disease. Factors that affect the progression Because alcohol is processed in the liver, consumption of excess alcohol can hasten liver damage, so it's important not to drink it. Damage also progresses faster in people with weakened immune systems, such as those with HIV. People who also have hepatitis B are at an increased risk of developing liver cancer. Males who have cirrhosis tend to experience faster disease progression than females. People over 40 with cirrhosis also experience faster disease progression than younger people. If you suspect that you have hepatitis C, consult with a healthcare professional as soon as possible. Early detection and treatment are the best ways to prevent and treat any serious complications or progression. Frequently asked questions What is the life expectancy of a person with hepatitis C? Many people live for years after receiving a hepatitis C diagnosis. Your outlook ultimately depends on the stage at diagnosis, whether liver damage has occurred, and your overall health. How many people experience long-term complications of hepatitis C? According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, approximately 5–25 out of every 100 people who have hepatitis C develop cirrhosis within 10–20 years. People who develop cirrhosis have a 3–6% annual risk of hepatic decompensation or 'decompensated' cirrhosis. This occurs when your liver function decreases and may be a sign of end-stage hepatitis C. People who develop cirrhosis also have a 1–4% annual risk of developing hepatocellular carcinoma, which is the most common type of primary liver cancer. What are the chances of dying from hepatitis C? Hepatitis C alone typically isn't fatal, but complications from untreated or advanced hepatitis C can be. People who develop decompensated cirrhosis, for example, have a 15–20% risk of death within a year of diagnosis. If you have questions about your outlook, talk with your healthcare professional. They're the only person with direct insight into your diagnosis and medical history.