Brain cancer, multiple sclerosis, arthritis, Alzheimer's, cardiovascular disease, diabetes, and Crohn's disease have one thing in common: each is related to calcification, a process in which calcium-phosphate deposits appear in parts of the body where they shouldn't be, with potentially toxic and deadly consequences. So say the authors of The Calcium Bomb: The Nanobacterial Link to Heart Disease & Cancer (The Writers' Collective, $32.95). Douglas Mulhall and Katja Hansen argue that even if you think you're in top health, you could very well be calcium's next fatal victim, and there's little you can do about it.

If this talk of doom and gloom bristles, then The Calcium Bomb might not be the best pick for holiday reading. Journalist Mulhall and biological engineer Hansen provide plenty of fodder for fear and anxiety, even if you're not a hypochondriac. We all have calcified tissue and are effectively at risk for everything from bursitis and psoriasis to arteriosclerosis and glaucoma to breast and bone cancer, they write.

Despite the book's alarmist streaks, it covers fascinating territory: calcium buildup might be associated with chronic disease, but what causes it in the first place? That's where nanobacteria come in, and where things get increasingly confounding and complex.

The writers successfully break down extremely complicated science into plain language. "Good" calcium helps builds teeth and bones, yet at times, some particles inexplicably "stray" and form toxic deposits that clog arteries, joints, and organs and possibly trigger disease.

Although nanobacteria have probably existed forever, their discovery is relatively recent. One reason researchers have missed them is their minuscule size; they make red-blood cells look gigantic. In fact, they are so elusive, and they have such an unusual genetic structure, that many scientists dismiss their existence altogether.

To help readers with so much misunderstanding, the authors offer this definition of nanobacteria: minute particles that self-replicate in the body and produce calcium phosphate. Elsewhere in the brave new nano-world, nanobacteria are described as "pathogens", "agents", "organisms", and "slime", the authors write. Furthermore, "they lurk in the twilight zone between life and the chemical processes that spark life."

Whoa. Even though these "entities", "bacteria-like life forms", "self-replicating nanoparticles", or whatever you'd like to call them aren't easy to define, they could play a paramount role in the development of illness. Mulhall and Hansen allege that the most compelling evidence rests in the case of heart disease. The Calcium Bomb explains that "virtually every" atherosclerosis patient who has been tested for nanobacteria has had them. And heart patients who are treated with "nanobiotics"-a combination of chemicals that fights nanobacteria-greatly improve with the removal of accompanying calcium deposits.

Critics don't buy the theory, but the writers point out that it took years for many health professionals to accept the fact that stomach ulcers are triggered by infection.

If treating a nanobacterial infection could eradicate cardiovascular problems, as the authors claim, could it also wipe out everything from kidney stones and cataracts to cancer and arthritis? That's just one of scores of queries that remain unanswered in this intricate universe. The authors make a strong case for the promise of nanobiotics, which they say are available to "millions who might otherwise die or suffer unnecessarily". Some of the calcium-combating chemicals' side effects observed to date include abdominal cramps and loose stools. (The section on the cost of nanobiotics, and who would pay for them, is geared to an American audience, even though Mulhall is based in Vancouver.)

Ultimately, Mulhall and Hansen conclude that much more study on calcification and its treatment is needed. So what preventive measures can people take in the meantime?

Good question. The book is hardly helpful, although it does note that taking calcium supplements appears to be safe (while adding that there's no consensus in the medical world about how much good they do at all). The Bomb's associated Web page (www.calcify.com/), which has a section on what people can do to take advantage of recent research, offers little more than telling readers to keep checking the site. Keeping healthy in general is smart, the writers state, but there's no guarantee that that's enough to ward off the negative effects of calcium deposits. As the authors stress, there's no hard evidence to prove that diet, exercise, or alternative therapies reverse all of the indicators of heart disease, including calcium-containing plaques. Making matters worse is that people don't know where nanobacteria come from. They could be in our water supply or in the meat and plants we eat.

What the Bomb does make clear is that nasty calcium deposits are everywhere: they exist in the craniums of brain-cancer patients and along the spines of people with MS. They are found in breast tissue of women with breast cancer, the lungs of people with tuberculosis, and the joints of arthritis sufferers. Deposits show up in the inner ear in people with vertigo, in the eyes of those with cataracts, and in the intestines of colon-cancer patients. Calcification is also associated with aneurysms, heart attacks, strokes, scleroderma, ovarian cysts, fibroids, diabetes, gallstones, bone spurs, and macular degeneration, among other conditions.

There's no denying that The Calcium Bomb is intriguing stuff. But reading it will definitely give you something to worry about.