Before: 30 Years of ER Medicine and the Weight of Cumulative Trauma

For three decades, working on the frontlines of emergency medicine meant managing high-stakes life-and-death crises on a daily basis. The psychological toll didn’t stem from a single catastrophic incident, but from the slow, relentless accumulation of secondary traumatic stress:

“Over the course of 30 years of emergency medicine, I’ve developed some PTSD. You know, not one big event, but you know, death by a thousand paper cuts that started developing up anxiety, depression, different behaviors that I really haven’t experienced before. And then that turned down alcohol. I got pretty heavy, especially earlier in this year, and it started to affect my work. And as a doctor, that’s not good.”

Recognizing the danger, he managed to reduce his intake slightly on his own, but the underlying neurochemical drive and trauma remained unaddressed: “I was able to manage to back off myself a little bit, but I just couldn’t clear that hump. Things were still not going the right direction.”

When he and his wife began seeking clinical solutions—prompted by discussions about psychedelic medicine on podcasts featuring Joe Rogan and former Texas Governor Rick Perry—they were met with institutional gatekeeping. Multiple clinics turned him away entirely:

“Most of the clinics said that I was too old and they didn’t really believe that I had PTSD. They flat out refused said, ‘Yeah, our doctor doesn’t want to do anybody other than 50 years old’… They said, ‘You mean you haven’t had a substantial trauma that should qualify you to have PTSD.’ They don’t see the other side of it where, you know, you see 10,000 traumas over the course of 30 years.”

During: The Internal Librarian and a Multi-Stage Clinical Reset

Arriving at the medical facility, any initial hesitation was quickly resolved by the thorough clinical intake protocols. As a physician, observing the clinical rigor firsthand provided immediate reassurance:

“Medically I felt I was really sound… I didn’t even get to go up to my room and they were already taking me back to the treatment room getting my vitals, getting my history, getting my allergies, filling out forms, checking my bags… that put me at ease really pretty quick.”

His protocol spanned three distinct sessions alongside supportive therapies including acupuncture, massage, and sound therapy. The initial session initiated a structured psychological review, which he described through a clinical and organizational lens:

“The Ibogaine puts like a librarian in your brain and starts sorting through all these different documents back and forth. Documents being life experiences, people, commercials that you’ve watched. And when I was in that first experience, I had like a big screen that was 180° and I could just look around and see, ‘Oh, this experience, this experience, this experience.’ It is kind of a life in review, but it’s not scary.”

While the second oral session served as an internal neurological reorganization—experienced largely as a quiet, meditative haze—he requested the third treatment via IV to complete the physiological reset: “I had a pretty good experience and it was more life. It was more reorganization, a reset. And that’s really what I needed. I really needed a reset.”

When emotional vulnerabilities surfaced between sessions, the constant clinical oversight proved essential: “I had a little breakdown there in the middle and I needed support and it came like that. I mean, it was immediate, and then it was the next day, and then it was before the next treatment… the support staff is 100%.”

After: Physical Steadiness, Vanished Cravings, and a Message to Doctors

The transformation across the 10-day stay was immediate and physically apparent. The neurochemical cravings driving his alcohol dependence were eliminated on day one:

“The alcohol’s gone as far as I’m concerned. I haven’t had a craving since that first treatment. Not even one.”

Physically, the neurological inflammation and withdrawal symptoms subsided completely. The tremors that had compromised his fine motor skills disappeared, and shedding retained fluid restored his physical baseline:

“I’m thinking much more clearly. I’m steady now. I don’t have, you know, the shakes are gone. I can actually write my name. My appetite is down. I think I lost 12 pounds while I was here… down 12 lbs in 10 days.”

Having experienced the clinical administration of the medicine under proper medical monitoring, his primary message is directed toward colleagues in the medical community who remain skeptical of alternative trauma therapies:

“It doesn’t take a military explosion to cause trauma—it can come over time. And that can be in so many different situations. But those doctors should take solace in knowing that this drug is safe… Never was there an issue.”