Tackling Substance Use Disorder
Learning to Love Through Addiction and Loss
I
learned of my dad’s death after my first organic chemistry class. It was the first day of my sophomore year of college. He died at home suddenly. His autopsy revealed he likely had a heart attack while experiencing an alcohol withdrawal seizure. Despite being intimately familiar with the impacts of addiction, I didn’t know that what he struggled with was a disease. At the time, I felt alone and ashamed because of what was happening to him and our family. It wasn’t until four years later — while sitting among patients at the Betty Ford Center in Rancho Mirage, Calif., as a medical student and summer intern — that I began to learn more about addiction and experience the healing power of connection. When I started studying at the University of Minnesota Medical School, I was still hiding all of my feelings and emotions related to my dad’s disease and death. I now know this is a common reaction to trauma and loss, which contributes to isolation and shame. Many families like mine cope in this way due to the stigma associated with substance use disorders and mental illness. We put our heads down and pretend like nothing happened. As I began my experience at the Betty Ford Center’s Summer Institute for Medical Students, immersed in treatment with patients and their clinicians, I was unsure if or how I would tell anyone about my dad. But as soon as I was asked to participate in a recovery group with a small cohort
By Sara Polley, MD
16
Summer 2022
of patients. I introduced myself as a medical student, paused, and quickly shared — for the first time anywhere — that my dad had died of alcoholism. It was a profound beginning to my personal journey of healing and sparked a newfound purpose that would guide my professional pursuits. Throughout my immersive educational experience, I was flooded with emotions. I felt excitement meeting patients and professionals who openly spoke about their stories of pain, loss, and recovery. And I felt peace beginning to understand that my dad died because he had a disease — a disease like other diseases, worthy of medical care and compassion. The truth that I had felt was validated: my dad did not choose alcohol instead of me, he was compelled to the choice by his illness. He fought as best he could, until he couldn’t anymore, and I am lovable precisely because of my experience as his daughter and not in spite of it, as I had feared. His addiction was a terminal illness, as it had been for his father, and as it is — sadly — for many people across the world. For the first time, I was able to feel proud and connected to my family. This also created the opportunity to boldly connect my identity with my drive to become a physician. Fifteen years after experiencing the Summer Institute for Medical Students, I had the good fortune in 2021 of joining the Hazelden Betty Ford Foundation as a psychiatrist and medical director. Now, I
get to help the next generation of doctors and share my passion for creating a society where all those impacted by addiction and mental illness can feel the love and connection I felt. I want all those suffering to feel belonging, pride, and a sense of resilience — especially those who are sickest and at risk of dying. Everyone, regardless of their current state of health, deserves to feel cared for and worthy. I implore those of us in health care to embrace patients experiencing substance use concerns by interacting with love, compassion, and acceptance. This vulnerability and tolerance can be hard. Not only does it require us to consider our own fears and biases, but to acknowledge our lack of familiarity and competence. We did not get enough education on addiction and recovery during our medical training. According to the National Survey on Drug Use and Health, medical students
MetroDoctors
The Journal of the Twin Cities Medical Society
