By
Brian Lindstrom and published by the Oregonian, 11/9/2010
I was recently in Germany and Denmark documenting innovative uses of acupuncture in the treatment of mental illness and drug addiction. What I encountered brought into sharp focus what would be available to us if we as a society prioritized the well-being of children and people suffering from mental illness and addiction.
About an hour outside of Hamburg, a man by the name of Wolfgang gave me a tour of the residential drug treatment center he runs. It resembles a quaint boarding school, possessing none of the institutional drabness I've come to expect after filming in Oregon, Washington, Kentucky, Texas, Florida, and Ohio. Wolfgang's clinic uses only acupuncture-no medications- in treating drug withdrawl. Through an interpreter, a 35-year-old female crack addict told me this approach "calms and focuses me, greatly reduces my symptoms and cravings, and makes me think the answer to healing my addiction is within me, and is accessed through acupuncture."
I asked Wolfgang how long addicts typically had to wait for admission into his clinic. He didn't understand my question, so I asked again. As I was about to ask a third time, it dawned on me the confusion wasn't due to language, but to Wolfgang's inability as a physician to comprehend why any patient should have to wait for treatment.
I explained to him that in Portland, people sleep outside every night of the year in hopes of being admitted to Hooper Detox the following morning. Because of space limitations, many are turned away. It's common for an addict to try five or six times before getting admitted. Wolfgang looked at me in stunned silence, then sadly shook his head.
In Copenhagen, I filmed Mette, a psychiatric nurse and acupuncturist as she visited "social psychiatric" organizations - neighbourhood homes turned into drop-in centers - using acupuncture to treat mental illness. The acupuncture, often done in small groups, and the homey atmosphere help create a sense of warmth and community. At one of the homes, a woman was in the kitchen making a cake to celebrate her first bridge crossing in four years -- an important victory over one of her phobias. Later, she shared the cake with another woman who, after giving birth to her third child, suffered such severe post-partem depression that she couldn't adequately care for her newborn. Now, after the benefits of social psychiatry, she is able to mother her baby.
The next morning, Mette and I drove her 13-year-old son, Jakob, to school. The school started like any other, with all the students (ranging in age from 5-15) and the teachers in the gym for morning assembly. "Smoking is Crap," a song written by one of the classes, was sung by the entire assembly. Next the principal, a vibrant woman in her 60s, called a 13-year-old boy to the front of the gym. She warmly put her arm around him and extolled a detailed list of his virtues and accomplishments. Then everyone sang him "Happy Birthday". He smiled deeply, hugged the principal and sat down. Next, a five-year-old girl stood up and explained that she had lost a ninja turtle toy and would like it returned in case any one found it. You could tell it was hers, she explained, because she wrote her name on the toy turtle's foot.
I was struck by the focus and calm of the assembled students, who numbered about 75. There was no name-calling, no texting or disciplinary problems, and the maturity of the older students was demonstrated by the 5-year-old girl's complete confidence that her missing toy alert would be taken seriously. And it was.
The classes at the school have no more than 20 students, and music, art and P.E. are required daily. In summer, there is a six-week vacation. I asked Mette what it costs to send Jakob to the school, bracing myself for Catlin Gabel-like numbers. "Two hundred dollars a month, " she answered. I resisted the urge to inquire about Denmark's immigration policy.
My wife and I are self-employed. We paid more than $14,000 last year in health insurance and medical bills. One of our two children sees an occupational therapist for one hour a week. Our insurance company just informed us that it will no longer cover any such visits for the rest of this year. Paying out of pocket, our bill will be $425 a week, but the visits have helped our child make great strides in both fine and gross motor skills.
The relevant question here isn't: "What should my wife and I do?" or "What should you do?" The question that must be asked is why are any of us content with health care and educational systems that make a mockery of what seems to me to be the purpose of any worthwhile government or society: to protect the "least among us," in this case of our children and people suffering from mental illness and addiction.
I'm reminded of the old Talmudic saying: "If I am not for me, who will be for myself? If I am for myself only, what am I? If not now, when?"
Brian Lindstrom is a Portland filmmaker and director of the upcoming documentary:
Alien Boy: The death and life of James Chasse. In Vancouver, we do have social programs available for addicts and those who suffer with severe mental illness. The sad fact is that typically the wait-list is so long, many people can't access the help they need. There are a few community-based acupuncture clinics in and around Vancouver that offer accessible treatments within an open space. This type of acupuncture utilizes distal points in a community environment at a fraction of the price. Quite often the NADA five-needle protocol is used along with other supplementation points. NADA has had very good results with treating addictions, helping calm the mind and allowing the patient to focus better. Treatment involves five points on the surface of the ear (shenmen, sympathetic nerve, kidney, lung and liver), administered by a NADA "acudetox specialist". Klinik is not set-up for community acupuncture but the NADA protocol is offered to those patients who are looking for an alternative -- and treatments are available on a sliding scale to those who can't afford to pay for full treatments.
