wake up calling ?
When I began practicing medicine in the 1960s, I was confident that I understood everything there was to know about people like James B., who had become addicted to alcohol and cocaine. (James is the coauthor of our book, The Craving Brain: Science, Spirituality, and the Road to Recovery).
Like most young doctors I had treated more than my share of alcoholics during my medical training and found them irritating. Their endless, self-inflicted medical problems ate up the hospital's resources and they never seemed to get better. When they were throwing up blood, they promised to quit drinking, but they were hardly out of the door before they were back on the bottle. For me, they were weak-willed people with a life-destroying habit and I hadn't become a doctor to fix anyone's personality.
Like most doctors I had not been trained to identify the early and hidden symptoms of addiction. If James had come to see me when he was in active addiction, I would not have recognized his problem, much less known how to treat it.
My friend Andrew was my wake-up call. He was a brilliant professor of medicine, and for some time he had been pouring pure ethanol into his daily six-pack of Coca-Cola. When he was caught in bed with a female patient, her husband threatened to sue the school. In response, the Dean asked me to give Andrew a physical exam and talk to him about his drinking.
Andrew agreed to go to AA meetings and cut down on his drinking. I was confident that this was his turning point. Surely, he would not risk his marriage and his career for something as unimportant as alcohol.
That's how little I knew about it.
A week later, Andrew flew to New York City to give the keynote lecture at a medical conference. He was brilliant and engaging. Then, after going out for a drink with colleagues, he walked into Central Park and shot himself in the head.
I was shocked. I sought out a person working in addiction, and he recommended that I take a crash course at St. Mary's Rehabilitation Center in Minneapolis. At St. Mary's there was healing in the air, and as a doctor I wanted to be a part of it.
After returning to Nashville, I helped found a residential treatment program in my medical school, patterned after the program at St. Mary's. In the many years since I began this journey of understanding addiction and treating many patients and their families, I have learned a great deal about the craving brain, the causes of addiction, its treatment, and the process of recovery.
I have been blessed to have two colleagues who helped to write The Craving Brain: Barbara Thompson, an award-winning writer and researcher, and James B. who allowed us to tell his story of addiction and recovery. We've become good friends, and with the book and this blog, we hope to provide tools and inspiration for addicts, abusers, and the people who love them. By combining the perspectives of an MD and a recovering addict, our goal is to shed light on some of the mysteries of addiction.
When I began practicing medicine in the 1960s, I was confident that I understood everything there was to know about people like James B., who had become addicted to alcohol and cocaine. (James is the coauthor of our book, The Craving Brain: Science, Spirituality, and the Road to Recovery).
Like most young doctors I had treated more than my share of alcoholics during my medical training and found them irritating. Their endless, self-inflicted medical problems ate up the hospital's resources and they never seemed to get better. When they were throwing up blood, they promised to quit drinking, but they were hardly out of the door before they were back on the bottle. For me, they were weak-willed people with a life-destroying habit and I hadn't become a doctor to fix anyone's personality.
Like most doctors I had not been trained to identify the early and hidden symptoms of addiction. If James had come to see me when he was in active addiction, I would not have recognized his problem, much less known how to treat it.
My friend Andrew was my wake-up call. He was a brilliant professor of medicine, and for some time he had been pouring pure ethanol into his daily six-pack of Coca-Cola. When he was caught in bed with a female patient, her husband threatened to sue the school. In response, the Dean asked me to give Andrew a physical exam and talk to him about his drinking.
Andrew agreed to go to AA meetings and cut down on his drinking. I was confident that this was his turning point. Surely, he would not risk his marriage and his career for something as unimportant as alcohol.
That's how little I knew about it.
A week later, Andrew flew to New York City to give the keynote lecture at a medical conference. He was brilliant and engaging. Then, after going out for a drink with colleagues, he walked into Central Park and shot himself in the head.
I was shocked. I sought out a person working in addiction, and he recommended that I take a crash course at St. Mary's Rehabilitation Center in Minneapolis. At St. Mary's there was healing in the air, and as a doctor I wanted to be a part of it.
After returning to Nashville, I helped found a residential treatment program in my medical school, patterned after the program at St. Mary's. In the many years since I began this journey of understanding addiction and treating many patients and their families, I have learned a great deal about the craving brain, the causes of addiction, its treatment, and the process of recovery.
I have been blessed to have two colleagues who helped to write The Craving Brain: Barbara Thompson, an award-winning writer and researcher, and James B. who allowed us to tell his story of addiction and recovery. We've become good friends, and with the book and this blog, we hope to provide tools and inspiration for addicts, abusers, and the people who love them. By combining the perspectives of an MD and a recovering addict, our goal is to shed light on some of the mysteries of addiction.
