One new measles case in Utah, bringing total cases to 11
There are now a total of 11 cases in the beehive state, .
PREVIOUSLY: One new measles case in Utah, bringing total to 10
As of Tuesday, the majority of measles cases, that is seven of the 11 cases, have been identified in Utah County. Officials are encouraging the public to get vaccinated against measles, if they aren't already.
At this time, no additional information has been released on the newest case. However, Utah DHHS has been updating public information each Wednesday.
What is measles?
Measles is a highly contagious virus that spreads easily through the air through coughing and sneezing. The CDC said those infected won't see symptoms appear until about a week after infection, and common symptoms include high fever, cough, and a rash.
Myths VS Facts: What health officials want you to know about the MMR vaccine
Tiny white spots may appear inside the mouth two to three days after symptoms begin.
Measles can cause serious health complications, especially for those who are not protected through the measles, mumps, and rubella (MMR) vaccine. The measles rash appears 3 to 5 days after the first symptoms. It usually begins as flat red spots that appear on the face at the hairline. They then spread downward to the neck, trunk, arms, legs, and feet.
Measles in Utah
Utah has largely been in the last 10 years. There have only been five confirmed cases since 2015, including three in 2017. However, Utah has had an increase in cases in recent weeks after a passenger with measles .
During the 2024/2025 school year, about 10% of in-person kindergarten students in Utah had an exemption for the MMR vaccine or were missing documentation to show they are vaccinated against measles, DHHS noted.
Amelia Salmanson, the department's preventable disease manager, notes that the organization has been preparing for measles in Utah for at least a year and have been working to reduce measles transmission outside of the identified households.
'We've been working really closely with our local health departments and our clinical partners to develop plans and processes to ensure that the transmission of measles stays ideally within kind of that immediate group,' Salmanson said.
Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Solve the daily Crossword
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
5 minutes ago
- Yahoo
I Was Told I Might Never Walk Again—so I Hiked a Volcano in Guatemala
I didn't let my lupus diagnosis stop me from hiking one of the highest peaks in Central America. It was Christmas morning when I blinked awake to the mechanical beeping of a heart monitor. At first, I thought I was dreaming. My heart thumped loudly in my chest. I tried to roll over and orient myself, but my limbs were numb, and everything around me was a blur of pale light and quiet panic. The voices outside my hospital room faded in and out until one finally broke through the fog. A man rushed in—the one who changed everything. His face said it before his words did. 'It's lupus,' he said. I didn't know what that meant. I only knew it wasn't good. I was 22 and had just been accepted to William & Mary, a top public university in the U.S. I had been the picture of health. A hiker. A wild-hearted, barefoot-loving soul who spent her weekends chasing sunrises and meaningful conversations. I had always been a thinker—someone who mapped out dreams and imagined every possible 'what if' scenario life could throw at me. But even with all that imagination, nothing prepared me for the moment I stepped out of bed one morning and collapsed into my new reality. Lupus is a chronic autoimmune disease. A body turned against itself. In a cruel twist of irony, after years of mentally picking myself apart, now my immune system was doing it for me—attacking perfectly healthy organs like they were intruders. It was a full-on war and I was losing. I was diagnosed with the worst class of it and told multiple times I might die. I almost did. The fatigue was relentless. The joint pain, unbearable. I received over nine blood transfusions just to keep me alive. The list of symptoms and restrictions, well, they were longer than my age. Tied with IVs to the hospital bed for more than a month, I remember the doctor rattling off day in and day out what I could no longer do: no more sun exposure, swimming, hugging friends, eating at restaurants, playing with animals, gardening, and walking in dirt. Even walking unassisted, they warned, might not be in the cards. I had a compromised immune system and was supposed to live in a sanitary bubble if I was to live at all. It was like someone had compiled a list of everything that made me me, then crossed it all out. I was a girl who ran and danced toward her dreams, tripping sometimes, but never stopping. Now, I was being told to sit still. But I've never been very good at doing what I'm told. And that's how I ended up 13,000 feet in the air, climbing Volcán Acatenango, one of Central America's highest peaks. The decision made no rational sense. Just months after being told I might never walk unassisted again, I was hiking into the sky on a path of volcanic ash and cloud-thin air. At the same time, it was one of the most logical decisions I ever made. Travel is so much more than movement and cool pictures in new places. It's how we reclaim pieces of ourselves. It's how we stretch beyond discomfort and fears and find out who other people are beyond our presumptions and who we are when no one else is around to define us. I started the hike alongside a group of strangers—fellow adventurers whose names and stories I didn't know, but whose silent grit matched mine. There was something exhilarating about trekking next to people who knew nothing of my diagnosis, only my determination. After our bus dropped us off at the beginning of the trail, my heart sank. From the start, it was a slow, burning, upward climb. I am so glad I had no idea what lay ahead because I might have turned around right then and there. We passed through five microclimates in a day—humid jungle, alpine forest, wind-swept ridges, dry volcanic fields, and a cloud-pierced summit. Each shift was like stepping into another world entirely. As we climbed, Acatenango's landscape shifted beneath our feet. The farmlands gave way to dense forests. The air thinned. My legs burned. My lungs ached. I slowed. And slowed again. I was often last in line, stopping frequently to rest, my legs almost crumbling under me. And yet, I was still moving. Stray dogs are abundant in the farmland, and a beautiful chocolate shepherd shared the journey with us. I soon realized what I hadn't shared with anyone, he probably knew. Out of the 20 of us, he stuck by my side, stopping when I paused and walking together with me when I began again. When we reached base camp at 12,000 feet, I was shaking. My body throbbed. The trail narrowed and a dark windy fog quickly set in. I was surprised when our guide said our camp was just ahead because I could see nothing, not even a glowing light. It was icy cold. Where was Fuego, the elusive pillar of angry fire? We had been told there would be accommodations at the top. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when I saw a stack of used mattresses, box springs, and shared sleeping bags. There was nothing sanitary about it, but it felt more healing than the hospital bed. We sipped hot chocolate around a flicker of a flame. I had come to see lava and was shivering around fading coals. But our guide was confident and told us we should wake up at 4 a.m. if we wanted to hike the remainder of the way to see Fuego up close and active. I had plenty of experience staying awake through the night from my weeks in the hospital. I had no idea how I would pull myself out of bed this time. Luckily, I didn't even have to set an alarm. At 2 a.m, I awoke to cold, wet slobber. The puppy that walked with me had curled up on my pillow. Having shared the trek, he wanted to share the warmth, too. I was more than a little annoyed and sat straight up, trying to drag him off my corner of the mattress. I kicked open the wooden door of our makeshift hut to shove him out and came face-to-face with Fuego. In the deep mist of the night, I had no idea our camp was clinging to a slab of cliff right in front of the summit. The earth growled and Acatenango's fiery twin erupted in the distance. It was bright and brilliant and alive and somehow almost outdone by the thousands of shimmering stars framing it. The deep fog that had suffocated everything was peeled back like a curtain and I realized all the beauty that had been hiding underneath. We rose for the summit. The final push. The hardest part. What seemed so close was a full three hours away still. A pillar of lava burst into the sky, glowing against the dusk. Around me, others gasped. Many reached for their phones and cameras. I stood in stunned silence. I wanted this image and memory etched in my mind before I tainted it with a camera lens. The eruption lit up the sky again and again throughout the night and early morning. I had barely slept. It was pitch black, and we were pushing through heavy sand and ash now. Two steps forward, a half step back. Mounds of crumbling dirt rose on either side, forming a slithering trail as we dipped down into the ravine and steadily rose up the other side. There was a moment, somewhere above the clouds, when I paused and turned around. The mountain where we camped, Acatenango, towered behind me, massive and ancient. Beneath its surface were deep, dark scars—grooves cut through the rock by old lava flows, now overgrown with stubborn green. I stood there, breathless from exertion and awe, already dripping sweat. I realized something that made me pause: The looming walls of dirt both engulfing me and forming my own path were the same. From the fog of sickness and the sting of IV needles, I was now coursing through the hazy vein of the mountain. The same burning force that had once destroyed this path had also shaped it—created it, even. And now, I traced it. My own body, too, bore scars—seen and unseen. Pain had carved through me, but it had also made this journey possible. I wasn't walking despite my pain. I was walking with it and becoming something through it. I was, by every definition, weak. But I was so strong. I was breathing hard—nearly wheezing—as the icy wind whipped against my face. My legs were leaden. My fingers were stiff and swollen. I stopped more than I moved. But I wasn't alone. Step by step, I made it to the top. There—at 13,045 feet—the sun rose above the world in every color imaginable—and some not even the most creative mind could fathom. We stood in silence as clouds drifted below us and light spilled across the neighboring volcanic ridges—Agua Volcano to the left, Pacaya to the right. I was standing on Fuego in the shadow of Acatenango. Ironically, the name means 'Walled Place,' and here, I felt the walls placed around me come crumbling down. All I kept thinking was how everyone told me I couldn't—and how they weren't here to see this view. I reached my grimy, dirt-covered hand down to pet the dog in blatant defiance of my instructions not to be around or touch animals. I didn't ever want to descend. The way down was almost harder than the trail up. I was slipping, sliding, and tumbling, joy erupting inside me. Whether or not we realize it, we each travel every day—through grief, joy, and fire. We each have our own personal Fuegos and Acatenangos to face. Mine just happened to be a real one. When I returned from Guatemala, my lupus didn't vanish. But I proved that 'can't' is just a word. Acatenango didn't cure me, but it reminded me my journey didn't end in a hospital bed. It started there. It was Christmas morning when I blinked awake to the beeping of a heart monitor, my body a battlefield and my future a blur. But it was through the mist of the mountain where I really opened my eyes. They told me I'd never hike again. That I might never walk unassisted. That I would have to live a smaller life, if I lived at all. But they weren't there when the sky split open and fire danced across it. They didn't see me rise through ash and altitude, gasping and shaking, clinging to a mountain that had known its own share of eruptions. They didn't see the girl with IV scars, windburned cheeks, and dirt under her fingernails reach the summit with a dog by her side and a defiant heart in her chest. I didn't conquer the mountain—I bled into it. Walking on the wounds it once carried, I learned how to live with mine. And when Fuego erupted, lighting the sky like a pulse, I knew I would never be the same. Not because I reached the summit, but because I learned I could keep rising—even while breaking. Read the original article on Travel & Leisure Solve the daily Crossword
CBS News
7 minutes ago
- CBS News
2 years after brain swelling scare, Shorewood toddler is back to her spunky self
Four-year-old Sydney Marcus is a fast-moving, spunky kiddo. "[She was] just very chatty, mobile, running around, learning, just like a little sponge," Sydney Marcus' mom, Britta Marcus, said. But one night two years ago, Sydney Marcus flipped like a light switch. "It was kind of like a one-in-a-million fluke, essentially and her body reacted to it and started attacking itself," Britta Marcus said. She says her toddler went to bed with a run-of-the-mill fever, cold and runny nose — and didn't wake up. "It was just a overnight light switch of where she went from like a healthy, normal kid, and woke up unresponsive," Britta Marcus said. Sydney Marcus was rushed to the hospital where doctors determined a rare, inflammatory condition called cerebellitis was causing swelling, fluid and pressure build-up in her brain. The cause was a combination of common cold viruses. "It's extremely rare. I mean, there's there some case reports that we'll talk about it being one in 500,000 and even one in a million, if million, it's extremely rare," Sydney Marcus' neurosurgeon at Children's Minnesota, Dr. Meysam Kebriaei, said. Sydney Marcus underwent two emergency surgeries at Children's Minnesota. "They removed a small piece of her skull and put a drain into her fluid space to try to relieve the pressure that way," Kebriaei said. The next challenge came post-surgery: rehab. She had to relearn everything — from walking to talking to swallowing her food. "It was literally starting over, like, with a newborn," Sydney Marcus' dad, Ross Marcus, said. "From a neurosurgical perspective, she's 100% and, like, that's, that's the emotional piece, right? Like, we're incredibly lucky to be in this situation." Thanks to physical therapy and rehab, Sydney Marcus is now returning to her spunky self. "I think she's going to have a bright future," Kebriaei said. These days, Sydney Marcus is busy blowing bubbles and chasing her two older sisters. "We were just could not have been more impressed, truly, with the care, the diversity of thought and the consistency of like, their presence and their support of our family," Ross Marcus said. The Marcus family says it's that support that saved their daughter's life. "Giving people hope is something you don't have the opportunity to do a lot, and in those darkest moments, is what really pushes you through and really gets you through and helps you fight for your child, right? And if we can provide that, I mean, we will do it all day long," Ross Marcus said. Doctors say cerebellitis is rare and even more rare in children. Doctors reiterate a common cold is typically nothing to worry about.
Yahoo
14 minutes ago
- Yahoo
A Dietitian Reveals the Truth About Sugar-Free Candy
"Hearst Magazines and Yahoo may earn commission or revenue on some items through these links."When you walk down the candy aisle, it's hard not to notice the array of sugar-free treats promising all the sweetness with none of the sugar. Whether you have a type of diabetes or are simply cutting added sugar. Maybe you've wondered: Are these candies too good to be true? What's really inside those shiny wrappers, and are they really 'better-for-you?' As a dietitian, I'm here to peel back the label and get honest about the truth about sugar-free candy. If you've ever been curious about the ingredients, how they affect your body, or how to separate fact from fiction, here's everything you need to know about the type of food. What is sugar-free candy, and is sugar-free candy truly sugar-free? Sugar-free candy is exactly what it sounds like: Sweet treats made without traditional sugar. Instead of using sugar, these candies typically rely on alternative sweeteners like stevia, erythritol, or sucralose to deliver that familiar sweet taste. They're often favored by people looking to cut back on their sugar intake, whether for health reasons like managing blood sugars or simply for reducing calorie consumption. You'll find sugar-free versions of everything from chocolates to gummies, all designed to satisfy a sweet tooth without the added sugar. But here's the kicker. 'Sugar-free' doesn't always mean a total absence of sugar. The term is regulated, and sugar-free candy can contain tiny amounts of sugar as long as it's under 0.5 grams per serving. Additionally, while these candies skip traditional sugar, they sometimes include sugar alcohols or other sweeteners, which may still affect your body differently. For example, sugar alcohols often have a lower impact on blood sugar compared to regular sugar, making them appealing for people watching their glucose levels. However, eating too much can sometimes cause digestive issues like bloating, gas, or even diarrhea in some individuals. For most people, they're a helpful option for enjoying sweets in moderation, but it's important to read labels carefully to understand exactly what you're getting. It's important to note that sugar-free candy doesn't always mean it's free of carbohydrates. For example, Werther's Original Sugar-Free Hard Candies contain 14 grams of carbohydrates per serving, even though they contain zero sugar. Not all carbohydrates used as ingredients are considered a sugar, and may impact blood glucose levels. What do they put in sugar-free candy? The sweetness in sugar-free candy comes from several possible substitutes. Here's a closer look at the most common ones: 1. Artificial sweeteners Artificial sweeteners, like sucralose, aspartame, or saccharin, are popular in many sugar-free products. These compounds deliver a sweet taste without contributing the same number of calories as sugar and typically don't have a significant impact on blood sugar. Because they are much sweeter than sugar, only very small amounts are needed. Most artificial sweeteners pass through the digestive system with minimal absorption, so their caloric contribution is limited. Some studies have looked at possible effects on gut health and sweet cravings, but research in these areas is still ongoing. 2. Sugar alcohols Ingredients like maltitol, xylitol, and erythritol are classified as sugar alcohols. They occur naturally in some foods but are often manufactured for use in sugar-free candies. Sugar alcohols are lower in calories than sugar and are only partially absorbed by the body, meaning they may have a less drastic effect on blood sugar. It's worth noting that eating large amounts of sugar alcohols may cause digestive discomfort, like bloating or diarrhea, because they are not fully absorbed and are fermented by gut bacteria. 3. Other additives Sugar-free candies can include additives such as thickeners or fats to mimic the texture of traditional candy. These ingredients can influence the final product's calorie and nutrient content, so sugar-free doesn't always mean low in calories or fat. Reading the ingredient list can help you better understand what's in your sugar-free candy and how it fits within your personal preferences and needs. Is sugar-free candy good or bad for you? Sugar-free candy seems like a dream come true for anyone aiming to cut back on sugar. But, whether it's 'good' or 'bad' for you really depends on your individual needs. Here's a quick breakdown to help you decide if sugar-free candy deserves a spot in your snack stash. Potential advantages Cutting back on added sugar If you're managing your sugar intake, sugar-free candy can be a nice alternative for satisfying your sweet tooth without the added sugars of traditional treats. It can be a win for those trying to manage their sugar levels or simply avoid the sugar rush crash. Just remember that sugar-free doesn't always mean calorie-free or carbohydrate-free! Lower calorie option Many sugar-free candies have fewer calories than their regular counterparts, making them appealing if you're keeping an eye on calorie consumption. It's a little indulgence that doesn't feel like it's overdoing it. Better for blood sugar Unlike regular candy, which can cause blood sugar spikes in some individuals, sugar-free options are less likely to have this effect. This makes them a better choice for those managing diabetes or aiming to maintain steady blood sugar levels. However, it's still important to manage your portion sizes, as overindulging in sugar-free candy may also affect blood sugar. Potential drawbacks Digestive issues Here's the not-so-sweet side: many sugar-free candies use sugar alcohols like erythritol or sorbitol, which may cause bloating or discomfort if you eat too much. It's kind of like your stomach waving a little white flag after one too many pieces. Still an ultra-processed food with low nutritional value Don't forget, sugar-free doesn't always mean 'healthier.' These candies are ultra-processed foods and often come with a list of added ingredients like thickeners or oils. Also, just like regular candy, most of the sugar-free options do not contain any vitamins or minerals, so they should be enjoyed in moderation as a treat rather than a nutritious snack. Sugar-free does not always mean carbohydrate-free For those watching their carbohydrate intake, sugar-free candy may still contain carbs. So it's important to consult the nutrition label to get the full picture. Is sugar-free candy good for your blood sugar? When it comes to blood sugar, sugar-free candy generally has less impact than candy made with standard sugar. This is because the sweeteners used, such as sugar alcohols or non-nutritive artificial sweeteners, are absorbed more slowly or not at all. The role of carbohydrates As mentioned previously, not all 'sugar-free' candies are carb-free. Some sugar-free candies, especially those with sugar alcohols like maltitol, still contain carbohydrates that can modestly affect blood sugar. Sugar-free candies may be better for your blood sugar management, but depending on the variety you choose, your sugar-free sweet treat may still impact your blood sugar, depending on the ingredients used to make it and the portion you consume. Studies on artificial sweeteners vs. sugar Artificial sweeteners should not cause blood sugar spikes—but there is ongoing research about their potential long-term effects, including possible impacts on gut bacteria or insulin response, but no conclusive evidence for major health risks when consumed in moderation. Everyone processes carbohydrates and sweeteners a bit differently. If you have specific health concerns, such as monitoring blood glucose or experiencing digestive sensitivity, you may want to pay attention to ingredient lists and portion sizes. The bottom line Sugar-free candy can satisfy a craving for something sweet without added sugars, but it's not inherently 'better' or 'worse' than other treats. The truth about sugar-free candy is that it's one option among many, and its value ultimately depends on your unique context, whether that's medical needs, personal taste, or individual response. A few things to keep in mind: Read labels: Check for sweetener types and other ingredients so you know what you're getting. And if you are watching your blood glucose, consider the amount of carbohydrates in the sugar-free food you're eating. Pay attention to your experience: Notice how different sweeteners affect your cravings, digestion, or overall satisfaction. Enjoy as part of your routine: Including sugar-free candy, like any food, is about choice and balance, not about restriction or 'good' versus 'bad' foods. At the end of the day, sugar-free candy is just one way to enjoy sweetness in your life. Whether you choose it or not, the most important thing is finding what works best for your body and brings you joy. You Might Also Like Can Apple Cider Vinegar Lead to Weight Loss? Bobbi Brown Shares Her Top Face-Transforming Makeup Tips for Women Over 50
