Tag Archives: love

Substance-abuse doc says: Stop chasing the drug! Focus on ACEs.

Jane Stevens Jane Stevens 5/1/179:18 PM

He says: Addiction shouldn’t be called “addiction”. It should be called “ritualized compulsive comfort-seeking”.

He says: Ritualized compulsive comfort-seeking (what traditionalists call addiction) is a normal response to the adversity experienced in childhood, just like bleeding is a normal response to being stabbed. 

He says: The solution to changing the illegal or unhealthy ritualized compulsive comfort-seeking behavior of opioid addiction is to address a person’s adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) individually and in group therapy; treat people with respect; provide medication assistance in the form of buprenorphine, an opioid used to treat opioid addiction; and help them find a ritualized compulsive comfort-seeking behavior that won’t kill them or put them in jail.

This “he” isn’t some hippy-dippy new age dreamer. He is Dr. Daniel Sumrok, director of the Center for Addiction Sciences at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center’s College of Medicine. The center is the first to receive the Center of Excellence designation from the Addiction Medicine Foundation, a national organization that accredits physician training in addiction medicine. Sumrok is also one of the first 106 physicians in the U.S. to become board-certified in addiction medicine by the American Board of Medical Specialties

Sumrok, a family physician and former U.S. Army Green Beret who’s served the rural area around McKenzie, TN, for the last 28 years, combines the latest science of addiction and applies it to his patients, most of whom are addicted to opioids — but also to alcohol, food, sex, gambling, etc. He sees them in the center’s two outpatient clinics: his clinic, which the Center for Addiction Science has taken over as its rural clinic, and another that opened recently in downtown Memphis.

Since he first sat down in the early 1980s to write a research paper (“Public Health Legacy of the Vietnam War: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Implications for Appalachians”) to describe the symptoms of the newly named post-traumatic stress disorder in Vietnam veterans – “problems with the law, having trouble sleeping, anxiety, divorce, sleep troubles, substance use disorders, depression, anxiety, cognitive and chronic pain issues” — Sumrok has pieced together the ingredients for a revolutionary approach to addiction. It’s an approach that’s advocated by many of the leading thinkers in addiction and trauma, including Drs. Gabor MatéLance Dodes and Bessel van der Kolk. Surprisingly, it’s a fairly simple formula: Treat people with respect instead of blaming or shaming them. Listen intently to what they have to say. Integrate the healing traditions of the culture in which they live. Use prescription drugs, if necessary. And integrate adverse childhood experiences science: ACEs.

“My patients seem to respond really well to this,” he says.

ACEs understanding changes practice  

Learning about ACEs more than two years ago was a big turning point for his understanding of addictions, explains Sumrok. “I was working in an eating disorders clinic and someone told me ‘90 percent of these folks have sexual trauma’. I remember thinking: That can’t be right. But that was exactly right. Since I’ve learned about ACEs, I talk about it every day.”

He also practices it every day, by integrating ACEs assessments for all patients in his clinics. He currently has about 200 patients who are addicted, most to opioids (heroin and prescription pain relievers, including oxycodone, hydrocodone, codeine, morphine, and fentanyl). “I’ve seen about 1,200 patients who are addicted,” he says. “Of those, more than 1,100 have an ACE score of 3 or more.”

ACEs comes from the CDC-Kaiser Permanente Adverse Childhood Experiences Study (ACE Study), groundbreaking research that looked at how 10 types of childhood trauma affect long-term health. They include: physical, emotional and sexual abuse; physical and emotional neglect; living with a family member who’s addicted to alcohol or other substances, or who’s depressed or has other mental illnesses; experiencing parental divorce or separation; having a family member who’s incarcerated, and witnessing a mother being abused. Subsequent ACE surveys include racism, witnessing violence outside the home, bullying, losing a parent to deportation, living in an unsafe neighborhood, and involvement with the foster care system. Other types of childhood adversity can also include being homeless, living in a war zone, being an immigrant, moving many times, witnessing a sibling being abused, witnessing a father or other caregiver or extended family member being abused, involvement with the criminal justice system, attending a school that enforces a zero-tolerance discipline policy, etc.

The ACE Study is one of five parts of ACEs science, which also includes how toxic stress from ACEs damage children’s developing brains; how toxic stress from ACEs affects health; and how it can affect our genes and be passed from one generation to another (epigenetics); and resilience research, which shows the brain is plastic and the body wants to heal. Resilience research focuses on what happens when individuals, organizations and systems integrate trauma-informed and resilience-building practices, for example in education and in the family court system.

The ACE Study found that the higher someone’s ACE score – the more types of childhood adversity a person experienced – the higher their risk of chronic disease, mental illness, violence, being a victim of violence and a bunch of other consequences. The study found that most people (64%) have at least one ACE; 12% of the population has an ACE score of 4. Having an ACE score of 4 nearly doubles the risk of heart disease and cancer. It increases the likelihood of becoming an alcoholic by 700 percent and the risk of attempted suicide by 1200 percent. (For more information, go to ACEs Science 101. To calculate your ACE and resilience scores, go to: Got Your ACE Score?)

High ACE scores also relate to addiction: Compared with people who have zero ACEs, people with ACE scores are two to four times more likely to use alcohol or other drugs and to start using drugs at an earlier age. People with an ACE score of 5 or higher are seven to 10 times more likely to use illegal drugs, to report addiction and to inject illegal drugs.

The ACE Study also found that it didn’t matter what the types of ACEs were. An ACE score of 4 that includes divorce, physical abuse, an incarcerated family member and a depressed family member has the same statistical health consequences as an ACE score of 4 that includes living with an alcoholic, verbal abuse, emotional neglect and physical neglect.

Subsequent research on the link between childhood adversity and addiction corroborates the findings from the ACE Study, including studies that have found that people who’ve experienced childhood trauma have more chronic pain and use more prescription drugs; people who experienced five or more traumatic events are three times more likely to misuse prescription pain medications.

Sumrok group
Dr. Dan Sumrok with group therapy members at McKenzie, TN, clinic (Photo: Yalonda James, The Commercial Appeal)


“ACEs just doesn’t predict substance abuse disorders,” says Sumrok. “All of our major chronic diseases link to substance abuse, so this is too big to ignore.”

Whether you’re talking about obesity, addiction to cigarettes, alcohol or opioids, the cause is the same, he says: “It’s the trauma of childhood that causes neurobiological changes.” And the symptoms he saw 40 years ago in soldiers returning from Vietnam are the same in the people he sees today who are addicted to opioids or other substances or behaviors that help them cope with the anxiety, depression, hopelessness, fear, anger, and/or frustration that continues to be generated from the trauma they experienced as children.

Learning about ACEs helped him understand that the original definition of PTSD, which many people still cling to, is not accurate. In the 1980s, PTSD was defined as a result of trauma that was outside the realm of normal experience.

“That was just wrong,” says Sumrok. “Divorce, living with depressed or addicted family members are very common events for kids. My efforts are around helping people to see the connections, and that their experiences are predictable and normal. And the longer the experiences last, the bigger the effect.”

He also says, “Drop the ‘D’, because PTSD is not a disorder.” It’s what he learned from van der Kolk, who wrote The Body Keeps the Score. “Bessel says we’ve named this thing wrong. Post-traumatic stress is a brain adaptation. It’s not an imagined fear. If one of your feet was bitten off by a lion, you’re going to be on guard for lions,” explains Sumrok. “Hypervigilance is not an imagined fear, if you’ve had one foot bitten off by a lion. It’s a real fear, and you’re going to be on the lookout for that lion. I tell my patients that they’ve had real trauma that’s not imagined. They’re not crazy.”

Patients learn about their ACEs, understand their lives better

This is what happens when a person sees Sumrok for the first time: They fill out the 10-question ACE survey (Got Your ACE Score?) in the waiting room. “Then when I see them, I go through each question and ask them again,” says Sumrok, who also does a normal physical exam. “Frequently, there’s a difference between the two. For example, this morning, I saw a woman and she reported an ACE score of 1 on the survey. Then, when I asked her the questions, she reported nine out of 10.”

That’s just how I grew up, she told Sumrok. She didn’t think being beaten, humiliated or seeing her mother smoking crack every day was harmful or unusual, especially since most kids she knew were experiencing the same thing.

Sumrok normalizes their addiction, which he explains is the coping behavior they adopted because they weren’t provided with a healthy alternative when they were young. He explains the science of adverse childhood experiences to them, and how their addictions are a normal – and a predictable – result of their childhood trauma. He explains what happens in the brain when they experience toxic stress, how their amygdala is their emotional fuse box. How the thinking part of their brain didn’t develop the way it should have. How it goes offline at the first sign of danger, even if they’re not connecting the trigger with the experience. Drugs like Zoloft don’t really help much, he tells them. Zoloft and other anti-depressants don’t remove the memory triggered by the odor of after shave that was worn by your uncle who sexually abused you when you were eight, or the memory triggered by a voice that sounds just like your mother who used to beat you with a belt, or by a face of a man  who looks like your father who used to scream at you about how worthless you were…the examples are infinite. That’s why van der Kolk says, “’The body keeps the score’,” Sumrok says. 

“After I explain all this to them, many of them stare at me and say: ‘You mean I’m not crazy?’” says Sumrok. “I tell them, ‘No, you’re not crazy’.” Sometimes he yells out the door to his nurse: ‘Patsy! Where’s my not-crazy stamp? I need to stamp this person’s chart.”

For people who are addicted to opioids, he prescribes buprenorphine (one of the brand names: Suboxone), which helps them to withdraw from opioids and to keep their job, or return to work. For most people, the drug is less addictive than other opioids. Sometimes if people are young, healthy and haven’t been addicted long, they can withdraw from opioids without buprenorphine.

“There’s no buzz associated with buprenorphine,” says Sumrok. “They can concentrate and think. Once they’re free of the continuous distraction of the acquisition and use of substances, they become pretty valuable employees.”

For people who are addicted to alcohol, he prescribes naltrexone (one of the brand names: Revia), because alcoholics have a high risk of death if they aren’t provided medication. And in this current national attention on opioids, Sumrok is careful to point out that although 33,000 people died from opioid overdose in 201588,000 people die annually from alcohol-related causes, and 480,000 from cigarette smoking. The complicating factor — and why policies don’t work when they chase the eradication of one drug, only to focus on eradicating the next popular drug of choice for “ritualized compulsive comfort-seeking” — is that many people use opioids and alcohol and cigarettes. And if they receive no help to get at why they’re using legal or illegal substances, they will move on to another, more easily accessible drug when the current drug they’re using becomes more difficult to find.  

Adrugdeaths

All patients sign a contract agreeing that they won’t drink alcohol or take other drugs. “We don’t mess around with that,” says Sumrok. “We can’t deal with them being deceptive, because if they drink or do other drugs, it can kill them. If their drug screens aren’t consistent, we ask them to find another doctor.” Just about everybody stays, he says.

They also participate in group therapy. For physicians who prescribe buprenorphine, it’s now required, but Sumrok had seen the research about the effectiveness of group therapy, and had started 12-step groups for his patients about 10 years ago. Talking with others who have the same experiences helps each person normalize their own experiences. Sumrok and the others in the group help each other find “ritualized compulsive comfort-seeking behaviors” that won’t kill them or put them in jail, such as coaching their kid’s soccer team or volunteering at a food bank. (Sumrok often quotes Forest Gump: “Helping helps the helper.”). He also encourages them to integrate other rituals into their lives, such as walking 30 minutes a day or other exercise, joining a 12-step group or finding a path to encourage a spiritual awakening.  

“Six months into this,” says Sumrok, “they start saying things like, ‘My wife and I are back together’, they’re hanging out with their kids. It’s pretty cool to see how people get their lives back. My favorite word is ‘normal’. When they tell me they feel normal, I know they’re doing okay.”

So, how long does it take before they’re cured? “How long should you take insulin if you have diabetes?” responds Sumrok, making the point that this is a chronic disease, that people should be in treatment for as long as it is necessary, and that some may relapse. His goal is for them to not have to use buprenorphine, but he knows that because of the number and duration of their ACEs, and the paucity of resilience factors provided to them when they were children, many will need continual support. He helps them learn how to integrate that support into their lives.

“When a diabetes patient comes in with a blood sugar level of 300, we don’t say: ‘Give me back that insulin.’ We intensify the treatment to get them back in balance,” explains Sumrok. “Only in addictions do we shame people. We tell them they can’t be part of this recovery anymore. We create a teeny hoop that’s called abstinence, and not too many people can jump through that hoop. If every time we saw a diabetic, we told them that their kidneys were going to fail, they would be blind and we would amputate their extremities, there wouldn’t be many diabetics who got help. I have patients who drop out, and then return a couple of months later, and say, ‘Doc, Christmas came, I saw some of my buddies, and I started using again.’ I tell them, ‘Come on in. Let’s work with you.’ And I remind myself that I’m not saving souls, I’m saving their asses. It’s about getting them so they can function at work, at home, at play. It’s not about making them perfect human beings.

“It has been abundantly clear to me and reinforced over a 40-year career,” continues Sumrok, “that patients desire, and respond better to, sensitive and informed care. From the Navajo Nation to Appalachia to Memphis and from the mountains of Honduras to the jungles of Amazonia, people regard respect as the sine qua non of quality care.”

Stories AND data drive solutions

Although Sumrok thinks his approach benefits his patients, he knows he needs data to prove it. When he saw a recent study that said 43% of people on buprenorphine were using other opioids, he did his own analysis of a sample of his patients, and found that only 8% were using other opioids. After tracking down those who were, most had good reasons, such as a man whose arm and shoulder were in a new cast after surgery repairing an injury, and he was taking a narcotic. Only one did not, and when shown his drug test, he said, “You know what? I slipped.” He talked about it in group, says Sumrok, and everyone in his group hovered around him to make sure he’d continue the program.

Derefinko
Dr. Karen Derefinko

Because Sumrok has kept fastidious records of the patients who have done their ACE scores, Dr. Karen Derefinko, a clinical psychologist and assistant professor in the Department of Preventive Medicine at the University of Tennessee Health Science Center, is starting a research project to examine all 1,200 records in Sumrok’s clinic in McKenzie to look at the relationship between people’s ACE scores and their adherence to treatment and their relapses.

“We think that people with high ACE scores are likely to have more relapses,” she says. “And that may be because people with higher scores have fewer resources and more difficulty associated with adhering to their treatment plans.”

She and her research assistant will de-identify the records, so that all information is anonymous, and then collect the data. Once that data is analyzed — probably within two months — Derefinko and her assistant will conduct focus groups of some of Sumrok’s patients. She’s already been sitting in some of the groups.

“Dan encourages this participatory nature of his groups,” she says. “People are very willing to talk. After the group sessions, they’re often not done talking about why they came to Sumrok and why other programs didn’t work for them.”

Through the records and the focus groups, Derefinko hopes to identify barriers to care, which include basics such as how people can find good care easily (most of Sumrok’s patients find out about him through word of mouth), being wary of the treatment because it isn’t explained to them, or — what Sumrok hears a lot — being judged or talked down to instead of given understanding and respect.

“In Shelby County, people complain about barriers to care, which many people think is because of economics,” she says. “But it may not be just economics that is keeping people from accessing treatment; it may be more about being judged, and not knowing what the treatment looks like.”

Being treated with respect builds trust, trust builds health

One of Sumrok’s patients – I’ll call him John, which is not his real name – has been driving 140 miles from Southeast Missouri to see Sumrok for the last five years. He began using drugs off and on during his 20s. When he was in his 30s, he injured his back, was sent to a worker’s comp physician, who prescribed stronger doses of pain killers until his back stopped hurting.

“I was taking pain pills like candy,” says the 46-year-old, who is married and has a son. “All of a sudden, the pills are gone, and you’re very sick, and I start looking for them everywhere – on the street, taking them from family members without asking – just to keep me from getting sick. I thought I had to have them to function. If I didn’t have six or seven pain pills, I wasn’t going to be able to get out of bed. If I didn’t get them, I’d be sick, puking….I’d do about anything to have those pills.”

After he spent his and his wife’s life savings, and the money they’d put away to buy a home, and his retirement fund from a previous job; after he saw friends die from overdosing; and after he realized that he was risking losing his wife and son, he told his wife he needed help, and they found Sumrok. 

“It’s been a miracle, for sure,” says John. As the Suboxone took effect, “after two or three weeks, I began to feel normal again.”

About two years ago, Sumrok asked him to fill out the ACE survey. “It really did make a difference,” says John. He had never connected experiences in his childhood with using drugs as an adult.

“When I was just a baby,” recalls John, “my grandpa took me from my mother, and told my parents: ‘When you guys are stable, I’ll let you have him back.’ Up until I was 10 or 11, I called them ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’.’” His older sisters were sent to live with his other set of grandparents. He didn’t live with his parents again until he was 15 years old. His sisters were adults and out on their own by then.

Until he did the ACE survey and talked with Sumrok about his childhood, it didn’t dawn on him that losing his mother, father and his sisters at a young age could have affected him in ways he didn’t realize. “I knew I was loved by my grandfather and grandmother, but being a young kid and seeing other kids going out with their parents was frustrating,” he says. “I lived with old people who never left the house, while my parents were out running around. I maybe thought my mom and dad didn’t care about me enough to change. I might have always felt like I wasn’t important enough to my mom and dad for them to change the way they were living and acting.”

But now he has a better understanding of what it was like to be a 19-year-old in the late 1960s and involved in the drug and party scene then, as his parents were. He understands them better, and why they weren’t able to care for him. He and his family members have “had our discussions,” says John. “My family life is a whole lot better. I didn’t have relationships with my parents or sisters. We only live seven miles apart, and I barely saw them twice a year, if that. But now I have my wife back. I’ve got my son back. And I see my parents and sisters all the time. We’re a tight-knit family.” He’s also able to hold a job, and is a reliable employee.

John sees Sumrok once a month now. He participates in group therapy, where they can safely talk about their ACE scores without having to get into specifics. He checks in with Sumrok, who renews his prescription.

“I like group therapy with Dr. Sumrok,” says John. “He talks to us with respect. We feel very comfortable with him. Dr. Sumrok never lies. I trust him fully. And he trusts me. It took five or six months to build that trust. The more I met with him, the more I realized that he was really concerned about me. He wants to help people. Let him train more doctors in the procedures he uses. You can’t treat people like they’re nobodies.”

A 29-year-old patient, who chose to be called “Mr. Big” since I’m not using his real name, has been seeing Sumrok for the last six months. He had been in a methadone treatment program, and found Sumrok after he couldn’t pay for treatment any longer. Sumrok was the only physician who would take his insurance. Mr. Big filled out the ACE survey in the waiting room, but reported his score as a two. Then Sumrok went through the survey with him, and Mr. Big’s score climbed to an 8.

“It does help me understand my addiction better,” says Mr. Big, who is a single father of two children, five and six years old. “For one, my trauma in my childhood was very dramatic. I thought everyone’s parents did what they were doing. I could see why I related to narcotics and stuff. It was the only place I had to turn. I started taking opiates when I was 11 or 12 years old. I was playing football, and broke my ankle. They gave me painkillers that made me feel like Superman. I couldn’t get enough, because I wasn’t feeling like Superman without it.”

The Suboxone helps him feel “normal — probably the way everybody else feels,” says Mr. Big. “Nothing I took ever gave me that feeling before. I’m a better person, father, and a better brother” to his sister, whom he convinced to also get help from Sumrok.

The first time he went for help, to a methadone clinic, he didn’t like it for two reasons: Methadone made him nod off or feel high, and the people at the clinic treated him as if he was a number, or just there for the drugs. “That’s just unprofessional, in my opinion,” he says. “Sumrok actually sits down and talks to you like a human being.” 

Mr. Big wants to work with Sumrok to develop a “game plan so that I can live without my medicine,” he says. He just wants to live a normal life. What does a normal life mean?

“It means that I’m home overnight with my children,” he says. “I don’t have to rob, lie, steal, or cheat to find drugs. I can fit in with society and not be high off my mind. I can wake up every day and do stuff. My children — they know Daddy’s not in bed sick any more. It’s wonderful. I’m wore out. I never knew that first grade and kindergarten had homework that was so complicated.”

With addictions and deaths on upswing, how to increase addiction docs?

Prescription and illicit opioids are the “main driver of drug overdose deaths,” according to the CDC, with 33,091 deaths in 2015. That’s four times more than 1999. And between 2014 and 2015, Tennessee saw a 13.8 percent increase in opioid deaths. More than 1,000 people died from opioid overdoses in 2014, and tens of thousands of people lead desperate lives, most of them unknowingly fueled by their childhood experiences. Only 10% of these are getting the help they need, says Sumrok.

Adrugdeathrate

Dan Sumrok is just one doctor, in one part of the country. How can what he does be scaled up to thousands of physicians who can treat addiction successfully in all parts of the U.S.? By doing what Dr. David Stern, Robert Kaplan executive dean and vice-chancellor for clinical affairs for the University of Tennessee’s College of Medicine and the University of Tennessee Health Sciences Center, did: launch the Center for Addiction Science.

“This really starts with Dr. Altha Stewart, who’s the director of the Center for Health in Justice-Involved Youth,” says Stern. “She’s the one who showed me that kids with high ACE scores end up in trouble. When I developed the Center for Addiction Science, it had to be like a cancer center, it had to be multi-disciplinary. In the old days, we thought people who had addictions were weak in the moral department. You really needed someone to straighten you out, because your mother didn’t do a good enough job.”

DavidStern
Dr. David Stern

But that approach doesn’t work. Neither does criminalizing addictions. Stigma drives problems underground, says Stern, instead of driving them to a solution. The center is taking an integrated approach to using research and education to help people in all possible ways, from physiology to genetics to counseling.

Stern believes that every physician should know about ACEs science, which is one of the reasons he chose Sumrok to lead the center, along with his willingness to be creative and seek solutions across disciplines. “Two of the most prevalent things in acute care are depression and addiction,” says Stern. “I think it’s important to be able to understand what ACEs mean to patients, what addiction is all about, how to recognize it, how to treat it.” He’s in the process of finding an associate dean for medical education, and is looking for someone who will integrate ACEs and other social determinants of health into the school’s curriculum. 

“I think a medical school should provide for the community it serves,” says Stern. “This medical school should be the medical school for Memphis. We should develop solutions that are scalable.”

Dr. Altha Stewart, associate professor of psychiatry in the University of Tennessee College of Medicine, learned about ACEs in 2009 when a group in Shelby County began educating people about ACEs science. They brought Dr. Vincent Felitti, co-founder of the ACE Study, and Robin Karr Morse, who wrote Ghosts from the Nursery: Tracing the Roots of Violence, which was published in 2007, to give a presentation. (Karr-Morse later wrote Scared Sick: The Role of Childhood Trauma in Adult Disease with Meredith S. Wiley; it was published in 2012.)

1-altha-stewart
Dr. Altha Stewart


“It’s become a core part of what I do now in my professional work,” says Stewart, who was recently named president-elect of the American Psychiatric Association. She’s working with the Shelby County community and the local criminal justice system to integrate trauma-informed and resilience-building practices to find ways to help youth who enter the justice system — all of whom have likely experienced ACEs — instead of shaming, blaming or punishing them.

The things that have happened to kids — as well as to many people who come into the health care system — are out of their control, says Stewart. “When you’re a child, you don’t control the people who abuse and assault you, who create hostile environments, who don’t provide you with clean clothes,” sheAltha_Stewartpres says. “If a child can’t control their environment, because of these things they grow up thinking they’re bad, different, horrible people. This new approach (integrating trauma-informed and resilient-building practices based on ACEs science) helps them feel like they’re not drowning anymore. When they can pop their head out of the water and get a breath, and see outstretched hands, a life preserver, a life boat, that changes their entire perspective.”

When Sumrok began integrating ACEs into addiction treatment, that was innovative, says Stewart. “If you don’t ask these questions, people tend not to tell you,” she says. Sumrok’s approach is part of a shift in patient engagement and involvement. “The trend in health care is that patients are partners in their treatment.”   

This new knowledge about why and how humans behave the way they do also speaks to how “we have trained the medical profession,” says Stewart. The traditional approach is that physicians “know everything. The people whom we treat know nothing. We tell them what to do, and if they don’t get better or do what we say, it’s their own fault.

“That’s simply not true,” she emphasizes. “Some of us have come to understand that there’s more expertise in the community and our patients than we’ve understood. That takes a bit of humility on the part of a physician, and an understanding that we are partners in helping a person heal.”

Sumrok’s experience with the young fellows at the Center for Addiction Science is giving him some real hope that the medical profession can change. When he’s explained to them how important it is to ask patients about ACEs and other aspects of their lives — such as food availability, safe housing, transportation, jobs (in the medical profession vernacular: social determinants of health) — “they say ‘isn’t that just taking a patient history?’”

He and others at the University of Tennessee Health Sciences Center have an opportunity to educate young physicians outside the state, too. Derefinko is also director of the newly created National Center for Research of the Addiction Medicine Foundation. The foundation oversees the 130 addiction medicine fellowships at 46 medical schools across the country.

“We want metrics to understand the impact they’re having” when they go out in the world, says Derefinko: where they go, whom they’re treating, how they’re practicing, whether they’re integrating ACEs science. In addition, the foundation will be developing some accreditation guidelines so that all fellows receive the latest and best education in addiction medicine.

One of those elements, says Sumrok, has to be empathy, which physicians can practice by listening, acknowledging and understanding how the experiences in a person’s childhood and adulthood have shaped their lives and health.

“Can you teach empathy?” he asks. “Can people learn to be empathetic providers? I think you can. I think so.” 

Attachments

Hide

Images (8)

1-altha-stewart
Altha_Stewartpres
Aopioiddeaths
DavidStern
Sumrok group
Adrugdeathrate
Adrugdeaths
Derefinko

Jane Stevens
Publisher, ACEsTooHigh.com
Founder, PACEs Connection

❤️ 15

Views: 425,538

Add Comment

Carey SippCarey SippFormats 

javascript:””

Comments (15) 

Newest · Oldest · Popular

Jane StevensJane StevensPublisher, ACEsTooHigh; founder, PACEs Connection

Thanks, Liz.

The pie chart came from The Addiction Medicine Foundation.

 

LBLiz Blackwell-MooreMember

Great article.  Do you have the source for the pie chart graphic on how many deaths are caused by tobacco, alcohol, and other drugs?  

Thanks

 

Russell WilsonRussell WilsonMember

Jane Stevens posted:

Thank you, Russell!

all that being said, I think a significant contribution of articles like Dr Sumrok’s is that it might help release people from the mental straightjackets in which they struggle, so to consider a bigger range of factors involved in more complex relationships. Such multifactorial studies can be very expensive and difficult to undertake. Look again at the recent discussion of Culverhouse’ “collaborative” meta-analysis of the role, or lack thereof, of the serotonin gene variant in influencing the role of early life stress in the development later problems — not all researchers agreed to have their data included in the meta-analysis. Whether or not current research methodologies, and inter-institutional schemes of arrangement, are up to the task remains a big question — meta-analysis itself is a relatively new methodology. Such questions won’t be answered in my lifetime but need to remain center-stage if we are to bring more humanity into the hard task of living human lives,

 

Jane StevensJane StevensPublisher, ACEsTooHigh; founder, PACEs Connection

Thank you, Russell!

 

Russell WilsonRussell WilsonMember

just became aware of this from the Australian peer support workers Facebook page

Jane, exhaustive / exhausting coverage of this! — people would be well acquainted with my own postings re this on this site — but also don’t forget that this is yet another re-visiting of the “self-medication hypothesis” — and for comments on this from  multi-disciplinary perspectives see http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com…012.04001.x/abstract

Darke’s article must be purchased to be read — he didn’t respond to my request to a copy when I asked closer to its original publication — but the comments letters are free.

“for every complex problem, there is a simple solution, and it’s simply wrong” — in practice, it’s a bit more complicated, but one cannot ignore the VERY high incidence of adverse childhood events in the AOD population, so “not true for everybody, but …..”

 

Jane StevensJane StevensPublisher, ACEsTooHigh; founder, PACEs Connection

Thanks, Emily! That’s a good point about the artificial bifurcation in trauma and addiction. The people who’ve worked at the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) have told me that it wasn’t all that long ago that people thought substance abuse and mental health weren’t related. And I think there are quite a few people who think that substance abuse and mental health and physical health aren’t related. ACEs science definitely shows otherwise!

Thanks for all that great work you’re doing at ConVal!

 

FMFormer Member

Fantastic article, Jane!  It is so edifying in the work I have led for the ConVal School District.  More importantly, it may help open eyes to those facilities and practitioners who have long made an artificial bifurcation in trauma and addiction (e.g. “you can’t be in treatment if you haven’t dealt with your trauma” or vice versa).  We need to further embrace a trauma informed approach across the continuum of care spectrum.  Again, great work!

 

Jane StevensJane StevensPublisher, ACEsTooHigh; founder, PACEs Connection

Thanks, Jen! That was my reaction, too, when I first heard the idea. It makes total sense!

 

Jennifer HosslerJennifer HosslerMember

Great article, Jane. I am particularly struck by this notion of dropping the “D” in PTSD.  It makes sense.  Calling it a disorder is further pathologizing what is really a normal or expected response to traumatic stress.  I had never even considered this idea.  We throw PTSD around so much to describe a variety of symptoms and reactions.  This is definitely something to consider.  

 

Jane StevensJane StevensPublisher, ACEsTooHigh; founder, PACEs Connection

Cissy, thanks for sharing this. Quite a few people have seen this today. I hope it’s helpful!

Jondi, thanks for your kind words!

Lisa, thanks for all the great work you’re doing; and for sharing that work on this network. 

Rick, I’m very glad you’re part of this community.

And, Mary — I agree. There are so many people who are integrating this ACEs science in creative ways that show the promise that this new knowledge has for solving our most intractable problems! 

 

❤️ 1

Mary L. HoldenMary L. HoldenMember

Thank you for this article…it gives me so much new hope for humanity!

 

RHRick Herranz Sr.Member

Jane

 You hit a home run with me on this article. Great job. I really am so happy to be a part of this informed community and men and women who are on the front lines of this Social epidemic.

Rick Herranz Tuesday 05/02/17

 

Lisa FrederiksenLisa FrederiksenMember

Thank you for writing this, Jane – it is so thorough and so needed. I have been working in the substance use disorders (or as Dr. Sumrok calls it, the “ritualized compulsive comfort-seeking”) field for many years, now, and once I learned about the ACEs Study – it was “ah – ha” – that explains how a person develops the disorder and it explains why they relapse because the root causes were not treated. Most importantly, it helps the person understand – they didn’t choose it or as Dr. Sumrok quoted his patients often saying, “You mean I’m not crazy?” 

 

❤️ 2

Jondi WhitisJondi WhitisMember

Jane, this is such a remarkably useful and accessible article; thank you.  I appreciate your making a complicated subject so readable and compelling.

 

❤️ 1

Christine Cissy WhiteChristine Cissy WhiteIt’s not trauma-informed unless it’s informed by trauma survivors.

Jane:

I’m sharing the heck out of this. What a fantastic profile and example of how thinking and lives and practices change, for the better, from an understanding of ACEs. To be on the receiving end of this type of care and approach (I love the “not crazy” stamps) is life-changing to life-saving. And it changes the entire framework for lots of us in ways that allow us to make more effective changes – as helpers and people being helped sometimes.

And with that, many of share this sentiment.

“Since I’ve learned about ACEs, I talk about it every day.”

Cissy

 

❤️ 2

The best way to start any meeting. Ever.

Carey Sipp Carey Sipp 8/17/2111:25 AM

Following a brief mindfulness check-in, PACEs Connection staff meetings begin with the review of our Vision, Mission, and Values statements, as well as our Equity and Inclusion Statement. At a recent meeting, top row, L-R, Ingrid Cockhren, Carey Sipp, Donielle Prince, Jane Stevens. Middle row, L-R, John Flores, Porter Jennings-McGarity, Jenna Quinn, Gail Kennedy. Bottom row, L-R, Rafael Maravilla, Natalie Audage, Alison Cebulla, Samantha Sangenito.



A couple of times last week I felt my body downshift to a more comfortable lower gear, the way it has several thousand times over the course of 26 years. This happens when I’ve “claimed” my seat at meetings for people recovering from having lived in the chaos and trauma of addiction, or in meetings for people who want help with their own addictions.

Many recovery meetings open with the oft-quoted Serenity Prayer, which asks petitioners to be granted “the serenity to accept the things we cannot change, the courage to change the things we need can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” We read the beautiful Promises of Alcoholics Anonymous, or a version of it appropriate to whatever group is meeting, along with the Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions.

This “meeting norm” of reading through the mission of why we are there, the vision of what we’ll gain if we “keep coming back” and the 24 behavioral milestones of theTwelve Steps and the Twelve Traditions has served, for my central nervous system, as a signal to let down. Relax. Open my mind. Open my heart. Trust it is safe to be where I am and who I am and to speak my peace. Here I am welcomed, accepted, loved, appreciated before I am even known. Though I may be only tolerated by some, love and kindness is the code. With spiritual help I won’t “act out” or ask for special treatment as here I am “a worker among workers.” Though were I to act out, my loving accountability partners would likely not do so much judging as they would gently nudge to help me remember to look for “my part” in whatever is setting me off. It is a model for living that I love and treasure. And it helps the group focus, center, get in sync, and oftentimes come to a collective gratitude.

Gratitude was the feeling I had last week when at two PACEs Connection meetings. The first was a meeting with a couple of statewide organizers, one of whom had been through a harrowing week of family illness. The other was our weekly PACEs Connection staff update during which several of us expressed disappointment and exasperation about the increase in COVID-19 cases. Both meetings began by reading, out loud, the PACEs Connection Vision and Mission statements as well as our Values and our Equity and Inclusion Statement.

Our Vision

A resilient world where all people thrive.

Our Mission

The human and digital catalyst that grows and supports the worldwide PACEs and resilience movement, and tells its authentic stories.

Equity & Inclusion Statement

PACEs Connection is an anti-racist organization committed to the pursuit of social justice.

In our work to promote resilience and prevent and mitigate ACEs, we will intentionally embrace and uplift people who have historically not had a seat at the table. PACEs Connection will celebrate the voices and tell the stories of people who have been barred from decision making and who have shouldered the burden of systemic and economic oppression as the result of genocide, slavery, family separation, forced relocation, mass incarceration, red lining and all other practices, policies and institutions that have traumatized marginalized groups. These groups include people of color, people living with mental health and substance use challenges, people living with disabilities, and members of the LGBTQI community.

Our Values

As individuals and as an organization, it is our intention and daily practice to encourage and model these core values:

Integrity. Transparency.

Equity. Inclusion.  

Empathy. Compassion.  

Joy. Celebration.

Courage.

Integrity. Transparency. We manage through trust not control. To create trust and an accountable environment where everyone feels they can say what needs to be said when it needs to be said, we maintain an environment free from hidden agendas or conditions, accompanied by full information and no fear of retaliation. We speak directly, do what we say we will do and have pure motives. We contribute authentically and participate fully. We are leaders and we model leadership at every level.

Equity. Inclusion.  We regularly examine our roles in perpetuating inequitable systems and work to change inequitable practices, structures and policies that contribute to ACEs, and maintain an environment where everyone is welcomed, respected, supported and valued.

Empathy. Compassion.  We value empathy, which validates the experiences of others and is born from compassion.

Joy. Celebration.  We cultivate resilience and equanimity by sharing the truth of our stories and celebrating our lessons learned and our successes.

Courage. Knowing that we, ourselves, are the foundation for our success and the key to achieving our vision, we encourage and provide opportunities for personal growth and professional advancement and satisfaction. Our courage is grounded in the body and is a measure of our heartfelt participation in life, with one another, and with our work.

Something about reading these grounding, encouraging, compelling words centered us.

In several meetings of PACEs Connection communities in the Southeast, where I am our organization’s regional coordinator, readers begin with their own community’s vision and mission statements. They take a few minutes to check in and establish their meeting norms, including one person speaking at a time, staying on topic, etc.

The communities that open meetings with their vision, mission and some form of meeting norms tend to advance their PACEs science movements with focus and energy. There is purpose, cooperation, energy, effectiveness.

Does your community begin its meetings with a vision and mission, or words that unify and inspire your members? If you do, please post them in the comments. With more than 400 communities on PACEs Connection, I’d love to learn about the different ways we all begin.

How we end—in a world where all people thrive—depends on how we begin.

To me, this is a given: The 10 minutes we take to start our meetings are vitally important to help us start on the same page, to share a mental model of what we’re working for, to work together for our common goal.  

Thank you for all you do in your home, community, and the world to help prevent and heal trauma, and to lead us toward a more healing-centered and just society.

Carey Smith Sipp

carey.pacescommunites@gmail.com

❤️ 2

Views: 593

Add Comment

Carey SippCarey SippFormats 

javascript:””

Donor Lois Hall says PACEs Connection is ‘proof of where hope is brought in communities’

Carey Sipp Carey Sipp 10/25/222:53 PM

Note: PACEs Connection is in dire financial straits. A funder who’d promised $500,000 reversed course and we are asking for help, from you, our 57,400+ members, to help cover the loss. Pay and hours have been cut for our staff – most of us will be laid-off for the month of December. Since sounding the alarm this summer, we’ve raised about $22,000. To get a sense of who your fellow members are, who is donating, and why, please enjoy our first in a series of donor profiles, and be like Lois: Now that you know we need your help, please make a generous donationto PACEs Connection!

“I love PACEs Connection—and the thought that it might go away was not only frightening—but sad. Where else would I find the things I get from PACES Connection, all in one place?”—Lois Hall, grief recovery specialist

When Lois Hall first learned about the science of adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) in 1998, it made complete sense. “That study, and all the ensuing research and analysis proves that grief/change/loss—in the broadest terms—is indeed the root of almost all (if not all) of our ills as individuals, communities and… our world,” she says.

She would know as well as anyone. Hall, past executive director of the Ohio Public Health Association, has been doing Grief Recovery Method programs and training for more than two decades. She’s been in the field of public health for more than 40 years.

“I took my Grief Recovery Method (GRM) training in 1998 and saw the important role of grief/loss/change in the basics of all we do in public health. I remember in my training thinking, ‘We have a program and brochure for all of these topics—but they’re not working.’ In public health we weren’t getting to ‘the heart’ of those topics—obesity, smoking, alcoholism, abuse, drug use, suicide, violence, etc.,” she says.Screen Shot 2022-10-25 at 4.44.51 PM

The week after her GRM training, a colleague gave a presentation at a staff meeting on the CDC-Kaiser Permanente Adverse Childhood Experiences Study.

“Bingo! All the pieces came together,” she recalls. “I literally sat in that staff meeting and cried, because it is indeed those things that happen to us in childhood that impact us throughout our lives—till death.”

Screen Shot 2022-10-22 at 5.46.36 PM As an “early adopter,” Hall began referencing the ACE Study into her work as national trainer and technical assistance consultant at the Grief Recovery Institute.

“I look to PACES Connection for proof of where hope is brought in communities…”

“When I do Grief Recovery Method training for the Grief Recovery Institute,” she explains, I always conclude by telling the new trainees that while they came to become Grief Recovery Method specialists, I’m sending them out as that AND as ‘hope-bringers’ to a pretty hopeless-seeming world.

She gives PACEs Connection much credit for the hope she has.

“I look to PACES Connection for proof of where hope is brought in communities, data that proves the impact of PACEs and interventions that can help bring that hope, in addition to our programs, of course.

“I love PACEs Connection—and the thought that it might go away was not only frightening—but sad. Where else would I find the things I get from PACES Connection, all in one place? I just didn’t want to imagine not having it,” she says.

Hall counts on PACEs Connection for what’s in the name of the organization: Connection. “Working for a small company there’s no ‘chatting around the water fountain’ about what we’ve heard or seen in journals or other articles,” she explains. “I count on PACES Connection for that.”

Hall relies on the resources, information, and the Weekly Roundup as among her primary sources of continued learning and staying current on PACE research and practice. “For me to stay informed and current, PACEs Connection is my ‘community of like-minded professionals and advocates,” she says.

“And ‘being involved’ also means I have chosen to make a financial donation,” Hall points out, adding, “Why should other members of PACES Connection provide financial support?  If not us, then who?”

Resources:

Lois Hall bio on Grief Recovery Institute website

The Free Grief Recovery Method Guide For Loss Ebook

The Grief Recovery Handbook – for a limited time, free for the price of shipping.



To make your donation to PACEs Connection, please click here.

A personal adventure: Asking for help after giving a talk on asking for help

Carey Sipp Carey Sipp 3/14/234:53 PM

Bill Foxcroft, executive director of the Idaho Head Start Association and me with Tommy Sheridan, deputy director of the National Head Start Association.

There’s some irony in asking for help after giving a talk on asking for help.

I’ll explain.

Sitting at the airport in Salt Lake City, two talks for the Idaho Head Start Association completed, I was glancing through the evaluations of my talks—95% were 8+. Whew. Apparently the topic—how asking for help as a single mother of two helped save my family and me—resonated with staff, teachers, and parents in the Head Start program in Idaho.

IMG_7667I loved the audience, love the organization, and am a long-time proponent of early childhood education, intervention, and support. The National Head Start program has served more than 36 million children over its 58-year history. Today more than a million children attend Head Start programs, which employ more than 257,000 people! The talks and new friendships made in Boise were affirming for myself as well.

Next stop? Bozeman, Montana, for a brief visit with my grown children, their respective significant others, and my grandpuppies. It would be my first-ever foray into the “Treasure State” in the worst part of the winter. It was supposed to be -17 degrees in Bozeman when I landed.

When I looked up from the evaluations, I noticed the woman sitting next to me doing something I recognized, and said: “I know that move. You’re checking on a child sleeping behind that column, aren’t you?”

Yes, she replied and told me that she and her daughter, age 11, had been traveling all day from Belgium, where they’d spent time with her parents. We laughed about a similar experience I’d had with my daughter when she was about the same age—we’d spent the night under a desk at the Portland airport waiting to catch a flight to Atlanta.

Geraldine—by that time we’d exchanged names—agreed to watch my things while I went to the ladies’ room. When I returned, she said our flight had been canceled, and that she’d booked the last room at the airport Radisson. I gave her a thumbs up and said I was going to look for an alternate fight.

Maybe I could fly into Billings tonight.

Or rent a car. It was a six-hour-plus drive. The roads were rough. No dice.

IMG_5618 2

No flights to Billings, either.

I started zigging and zagging over the map of Montana to see what else could work, and thought about Helena. It wasn’t that far from Bozeman. Meanwhile the line to the Delta service desk, which was about 100-people deep when I got to the gate, had about 200 people waiting impatiently.

Then, jackpot. There was a flight to Helena—a 90-minute drive from Bozeman—the next morning. Better still,I booked a seat.

I told Geraldine and she started checking availability for the same flight. A few minutes later, she and her daughter, Nelle, booked their seats.

Relief in the air, I made a big ask: Would Geraldine be willing to split the cost of the room and perhaps she, her daughter and I could have a Salt Lake City girls’ night sleepover?

I didn’t know the extent of Geraldine’s world traveling experience at that time, but I could tell she’d sized me up. In the little bit of conversation that we’d had—I’d told her I was coming from giving a talk to the Idaho Head Start Association and that I was eager to see my adult children in Bozeman for the first time in months—she’d decided I was a safe risk. She said yes, and I said I’d pay for the ride to the hotel.

Long story short: We did have the last room at the Airport Radisson. It had two queen-sized beds. Nelle and Geraldine bedded down quickly; they’d had a long day. I sent a few messages to the kids, confirming everything, did an abbreviated cleanup, and went to sleep around 1 a.m., grateful to be in a clean bed instead of trying to sleep in a chair at the airport.

image000000 2

Geraldine, Nelle, and me before heading back to the airport, after our pop-up girls-only Salt Lake City slumber party!

At 6:30 a.m. we headed back to the airport. While waiting, Geraldine and I shared more bits of personal histories. She’d been a college recruiter, and had traveled throughout China, India, and Malaysia before having children. We talked a bit about having daughters, and how grateful I was that my daughter is not a pre-teen at this time when the news about teenage girls and the post-pandemic pressures they are feeling with social media and more, is a great cause of concern. These facts are well-documented in a book I recommended to Geraldine, Girls on the Brink by author and friend Donna Jackson Nakazawa.

When we boarded the plane, our conversation ended; our seats were far apart. After landing, we hugged and thanked each other. My daughter arrived to whisk me away; Geraldine’s husband came to pick up his wife and daughter. And our adventure seemed to come to an end.

But I decided there was something to be learned from writing about this experience.

Later, I texted Geraldine to ask if she was okay if I wrote a story about what we’d experienced in the last 14 or so hours, if I only used their first names and sent it to her first. She was good with that.

And here we are.

I’m back from a great experience of meeting wonderful people who work with Head Start, and spending an incredibly sweet time with my children, during which I thanked them for living so close to each other.

IMG_1645They’d always been close, so when Patrick left Georgia for Montana six years ago, Louisa, who also loves the outdoors, followed suit. They have been rock-solid supports for each other. They know how to ask each other for help when they need it, and they know how to offer support in healthy ways. This served them well when Patrick and a friend of his bought a white-water rafting business, and Louisa helped him with bookings and more for several summers.

There was so much gratitude gained during this brief adventure.

Gratitude for my health, my children and their great relationships with their significant others and amazing dogs. Gratitude that I had enjoyed giving the talks I gave and that they were so well received. Gratitude for the confidence to ask for help and that I’d listened when people along the way told me that asking for help is a sign of maturity. Gratitude that I’d made new connections with people who were enthusiastic about the work being done at PACEs Connection, and how well it aligns with work being done by the thousands of employees at Head Start who are eager, too, to prevent and heal trauma.

Screen Shot 2023-03-14 at 6.46.36 PMWriting this blog was a kind of gift to myself on this March day, which is also my birthday. It is also a way of marking and celebrating these new friendships and possibilities, and affirming the fact that we’re never too old to ask for help, or to have a pop-up, girls-only slumber party.   

Attachments

Hide

Images (6)

mceclip0: Bill Foxcroft, Carey Sipp, and Tommy Sheridan
IMG_7667: Giving keynote on the last day of the Idaho Head Start Association Conference in February.
IMG_5618 2: A long slog in the dark?
image000000 2: Nelle, Geraldine, and me following our "slumber party."
IMG_1645: My daughter, Louisa, daughter-in-law, Libby, and son Patrick at the "family business" in Gardiner, MT.
Screen Shot 2023-03-14 at 6.46.36 PM

Carey Smith Sipp

carey.pacescommunites@gmail.com

❤️ 5👍 1🏆 1

“Please help this AMAZING resource stay strong!” Spotlight on Our Monthly Donors: Meet Kerrie Ackerson

Carey Sipp Carey Sipp 4/11/2312:45 PM

“These are some of my favorite people and me at from a recent conference,” said PACEs Connection monthly donor Kerrie Ackerson. From left to right—Ginger Healy from the Attachment Trauma Network,  Kerrie’s sister “my (little) big sister Stacey (our family’s brave teacher)”,  trauma informed educators and advocates Jim Sporleder, Lara Kain, Jodi Place, and Ackerson.

The number of donors giving to PACEs Connection with a monthly gift is increasing.

“While we’ve added about 15 new monthly donors recently, and we are grateful for them, it would be good to see more of our members — and visitors — supporting our work to prevent and heal trauma,” said Ingrid Cockhren, PACEs Connection CEO.

With more than 58,000 members of this networking community, and with the staff needed to support the site, the communities, the newsletters, our podcasts, webinars, and conferences, Cockhren is asking members to sign on to make a monthly donation.

“If just ten percent of you made an automatic monthly donation of $10, you could help us cover a substantial portion of our budget,” said Cockhren.

Please consider following in the footsteps of supporter Kerrie Ackerson, who shares below her reasons for making a monthly gift to PACEs Connection.

  1. Name: Kerrie Ackerson
  2. Occupation: Writer
  3. Connection to PACEs Connection/PACEs science? Survivor, foster mom, adoptive momauntie, wife of a nurse who survived COVID.
  4. Do you work in the field? My career started as a literacy volunteer in an institution for adults who committed violent crimes and were found “not guilty by reason of mental disease or defect.” From there I worked at a maximum-security prison for adults who were too violent and/or actively psychotic to be placed in a “normal” prison. Later I worked in county human services and ran the juvenile court division including a shelter facility, a secure detention center, youth probation offices, and a diversion program. My most recent 12 years were spent at an educational service agency in Wisconsin working in the areas of youth mental health and school safety.
  5. How did you find out about PACEs Connection? One day I got an email inviting me to a webinar that was being done by a woman named Lara Kain from Los Angeles. SHE BLEW MY MIND with PACES science. I was telling my sister about this fabulous woman, and she said –“That’s funny, I used to work with someone with that same name in Madison.” It was the same person! Crazy, small, world.  We both have followed Lara ever since (including following her during her time at PACES Connection).
  6. Were you surprised to find this resource? Yes. The best contacts I have ever met are all followers of PACES, and I was shocked to find such a wonderful source of important information AND such fabulous humans all in one place.
  7. What part of PACEs Connection do you like best? I like it all. I’ve benefitted from Ingrid’s regional historical perspectives on racial trauma, Mathew’s podcasts, countless webinars, blog posts, and now every time I get my weekly PACES email I end up losing a LOT of time reading the stories and “clicking deeper.”
  8. How do you use PACEs Connection? There is so much valuable information, research, resources and more that PACES puts out. As a grant writer, reading the weekly RoundUp keeps me at the front of the field and keeps information at my fingertips.
  9. Do you read the Weekly RoundUp (enewsletter)?Yes.
  10. Do you share stories from the Weekly RoundUp? Yes.
  11. Do you belong to a resiliency initiative? I do not. I help to run a Trauma Training Project for school professionals across Wisconsin in partnership with Dr. Bruce Perry’s Neurosequential Network, and I find that quite energizing. But I don’t belong to a formal resiliency initiative…unless you count my 16 person “Trauma Peeps” text group which provides a safe haven where we can say things that could get us in trouble if we yelled them out into the universe. 😊
  12. What prompted you to support PACEs Connection with your gift?The incredible value that I get from PACES made me a supporter. When I heard the initiative was truly self-funded and needed support, I wanted to do what I could.
  13. What keeps you giving as a monthly donor? The value of the content and the people.
  14. What would you tell others, to encourage them to support PACEs Connection on a monthly basis? Please help this AMAZING resource stay strong. If you aren’t involved, get involved, it is life-changing.

15. What is your greatest hope for what happens with PACEs science? That we end child abuse? Create equity? Eliminate racism? Do away with poverty?  Create a trauma-informed and healing-centered planet? Gosh, I’d like it if ANY of those things could happen. As I now know (thanks to PACES) all of those things are intricately connected. If I could wish one thing for all humans, it would be true connection. As I just heard Dr. Perry say the other day on a podcast, “Connection is at the core of all human success, and all human need—to be connected and belong to a community of people.” We are in a pandemic of loneliness and disconnection, and the state of our world reflects that. PACES works every day to change that, and I am so appreciative of the work you all do.

Ackerson encourages fellow members of PACEs Connection to join her in making a generous, tax-deductible donation to PACEs Connection here.

mail iconIf you’d prefer to mail your gift rather than give it online, here’s how…

Make check payable to:
TSNE (Third Sector New England, our fiscal sponsor) and write PACEs Connection Donation on the memo line.

Mail check to:
PACEs Connection, c/o TSNE, 89 South Street, Suite 700, Boston, MA 02111

information iconMaking a wire transfer or need Tax ID information?

Please contact Carey Sipp, Director of Strategic Partnerships, at csipp@pacesconnection.com

Carey Smith Sipp

carey.pacescommunites@gmail

Out of poverty and into mental health support. Join Thursday’s encore of ‘History. Culture. Trauma.’ with Rebecca Lewis-Pankratz

Carey Sipp Carey Sipp 5/23/2312:59 PM

Each year millions of Americans face the reality of living with mental health struggles. The collective trauma of COVID-19 has exasperated our country’s mental health crisis.

In honor of May’s designation as Mental Health Awareness Month, co-hosts of the History. Culture. Trauma. podcasts Ingrid Cockhren, CEO of PACEs Connection, and Mathew Portell, director of communities, speak with guests about our country’s science, support, education, advocacy, and policies focused on mental health.

Screen Shot 2022-04-19 at 12.21.24 PM

This week’s episode—at 1 pm PT, 4 pm ET, Thursday—features an encore of an interview with Rebecca Lewis-Pankratz.

Lewis-Pankratz is a learning centers director and poverty consultant. She regularly speaks on rural poverty and systems, including foster care, and how they affected her journey.

Despite growing up in addiction and poverty, Lewis-Pankratz was able, against all odds, to fight her way out of poverty. Her journey from the trailer park where she was living with her three young sons began in 2011 when she connected with a local poverty resolution project.

Lewis-Pankratz later went to work for that non-profit, and went on to build multiple projects like it to help more families.

More about Rebecca Lewis-Pankratz

Today Lewis-Pankratz works with communities and schools across the US to solve poverty and heal trauma. She does this by helping caring leaders create sustainable ecosystems of resilience based on building better relationships.

In 2015, Lewis-Pankratz started working with public education and ignited a trauma-informed schools movement in her state and beyond. From her experience of trauma and poverty, and by accessing buffering relationships, Lewis-Pankratz healed from both poverty and addiction and continues to light the path for others.

Lewis-Pankratz and her team have partnered with Youth Core Ministries out of Greensburg, Kansas, to establish and sustain poverty resolution projects across Kansas and Illinois. Currently, they are working with over 200 families who are systematically building their paths out of poverty. Lewis-Pankratz is widely known in Kansas and across the United States for her extensive work in building trauma-informed schools.

Tune in Thursday at 1 p.m. PT; 4 .m. ET.

Show Links

Constipation nation? Damndemic guts and PACEs science. Anybody else on the john at 5 a.m. being hypnotized by their IBS App?

Carey Sipp Carey Sipp 6/29/236:23 PM

This is the first in a series of blogs about what I believe to be some of the consequences – “negative” and “positive” – of positive and adverse childhood experiences (PACEs) across my lifespan. I share this as my healing journey takes another twisty turn for the better. I’d love to know if and how you believe your positive and adverse childhood experiences have affected your health.

I’ll post other installments as we at PACEs Connection continue to share the latest science, and stay focused on our work to connect and create healing communities. Subsequent topics may include insights on PACEs and finances, relationships, and parenting.

Please know my intention is not to offend anyone, or to make light of my own experiences, or to make light of the experiences of others. It is to share experiences in hopes of helping fellow travelers and wanting the world to know that the traumas being wrought upon us are in large part the results of broken values and systems in the collective that affect families and individuals — across the lifespan!

Physicians, policymakers, and business leaders need to know about the pain perpetuated and created by their reluctance to recognize and address childhood trauma as the root cause of most of our seemingly most intractable societal and personal challenges. We all live with collective “undigested trauma” and I believe that is why we are a nation and a people experiencing so much pain. The pain is trying to tell us all a lot. And I’ll say more about that in subsequent essays.

I do believe we are our own best healers, that laughter is some of the best medicine, and that being able to look back on adversity with curiosity, compassion, and grace adds years to our lives.

There is science to support those beliefs. Proof positive? I am still here, and look forward to sharing these and other findings with this “chosen family” of fellow members of PACEs Connection.

Happy 4th of July weekend. May it be truly liberating.

IMG_2842

GUTS

Here’s the deal: I was born with gut issues. There are myriad reasons for it, probably, but the root cause of the root and sacral chakra block that keeps my guts twisted, turning, and sometimes frozen or  burning, is likely trauma experienced when I was an itty-bitty fetus.

Adverse fetal experiences?

I say adverse birth experiences because my mother was the victim of horrific domestic violence while she carried me, and it sure didn’t get better when she had a baby girl instead of the hoped-for baby boy.

Anyway, that’s kind of root cause of why, at 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning, I am AWAKE. Doing cat-cow yoga moves. Breathing deeply into my bowels. Drinking MORE hot water. Taking the fistful of probiotics I take in the morning to complement the fistful of probiotics I take mid-day and the fistfull I take at night.

This is a 24-7 operation, trying to regulate my dysregulated guts. And it has been for much of my life. Oddly, while I was pregnant and pumped full of progesterone, and then breastfeeding and high on my own oxytocin, I didn’t have these issues. But that was more than 30 years ago. Those were the sweetest of days, despite all manner of other challenges.

But now it is about 5:45 a.m. I’ve done more yoga moves. I am sitting on the john with my feet up on a box to replicate the effect of using a “Squatty Potty”, a plastic footstool like thing I’d bought years ago after seeing it on SharkTank.  As part of the sales pitch, the successful inventor revealed that the way Americans sit while toileting actually prevents a healthy bowel movement.

Go figure. Not having our bodies in a squatting position – as our hunter-gatherer nomadic ancestors did – isn’t good for us for many reasons. But that’s another gut report.

How many different simultaneous actions are happening here to support this effort?

  1. All those probiotics are working in my frozen gut
  2. I am massaging my part of my lower abdomen in a way that is supposed to help facilitate movement
  3. I have been listening to the “Inner River” meditation in my “Flare Up Kit” on the Nerva app (I pay about $20 a month for it.)  It is delightful. A lovely Australian lady hypnotizes me in 15 minutes to “relax my body” and calm my sympathetic nervous system the-heck -down so I can get to rest and digest and what I call DIVEST
  4. I’ve been rocking gently, as that, too, is supposed to help
  5. Prior to this magic moment, I sipped a cup of hot water
  6. I also drank a tall-boy cup of “Bio Coffee” that tastes great with some stevia in it, and was created to help customers “love what it does to your body” because it’s formulated to help support gut health
  7. Hours before this moment, I drank a few ounces of purified water into which I had dumped a scoop of “Calm” magnesium, which helps me sleep and has the side benefit of promoting “motility”
  8. Prior to bed, I had also exercised, eaten a meal of organic turkey, organic jicama tortillas, and papaya. (I eat about six papayas a week because they are supposed to be so good for your guts). I had laughed some by watching the most recent episode of “Ted Lasso.” Laughter is great for guts
  9. I had also had a long talk with a dear friend, which helped me have a sense of being supported and connected. (Relational health supports all health systems, but especially gut health. I think about this often as I eat dinner alone and don’t always relate to my food respectfully by taking time to savor it and thank the plant or creature whose energy I am consuming to stay alive. Note to self: ponder these things for a future essay!)

If I had a nickel for every dollar spent on different remedies for JUST my stomach issues over my lifetime, I might not be rich. But I’d be on the way.

A little bit of information (there is MUCH more) about PACEs science and gut health.

We know from the landmark Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) study published in 1998 by The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and Kaiser Permenete, and written by personal heroes Vincent Felitte, MD, and Rob Anda, MD, that the more ACEs are stacked up in our history, the greater the likelihood of all manner of health issues. My score is eight out of the ten original ACEs.

Subsequent studies looking specifically at gut health show the correlation between gastrointestinal issues and ACEsThe dose-related response truths hold up. The more ACEs, the greater the likelihood of gut trouble. (I am also telling this story because I want to raise awareness of the connection between ACEs and all manner of issues, but also because I want to contribute to raising awareness of the correlation so maybe, just maybe, the next gut doctor I go to will know the rationale for asking patients to answer the ACE questionnaire!)

Baby and little kid guts. Opium?

As a child there were visits to the pediatrician. And the memories of being given paregoric – opium – which tasted like licorice (I cannot stand that taste) and which my mother kept above the refrigerator.

Screen Shot 2023-06-30 at 3.35.35 PM

I have no idea how often she pulled out the dropper to knock me out when I was a colicky baby and whiny toddler. Or how many times the cleaning ladies who took care of me much of the time from the age of early infancy until I became a latchkey kid, slipped it to me so they could have a moment’s peace to do the work they were hired to do.

I have imagined, since doing exhausting rounds of inner child work and putting it together that my maternal grandmother died at the same time my mother went back to work – when I was just six weeks old – that the instructions to the cleaning ladies, who were paid $4 a day and not treated very well, must have been to “cook, clean, iron, and oh, by-the-way, there’s a baby in there”.

So that must have been part of the reason I have almost always felt an undercurrent of loneliness. Because I was left at home with the cleaning lady at least  three or four days a week while my mother was working and or taking part in her myriad civic duties. And the person hired to clean the house and do all those other chores and take care of me? How could she have had a lot of enthusiasm for the role, given that she was being paid less than a dollar an hour, was expected to do an inordinate number of tasks, and was likely missing her own children? It was a no-win situation and when I was older and learned more about how Black people were treated, that, too, made my stomach hurt. Still does.

Where the nurturing came into the equation.

Thank God I also know that I sometimes stayed with my paternal grandmother. She loved me deeply and taught me, from an early age, about being kind to people. She also taught me about bugs, flowers, gardening, canning, pickling, cooking, and the joy of shelling peas. She was a living, breathing positive childhood experience (PCE) for me.

But in between those lovely visits to her farm, and wonderful times watching  my next door neighbor, Miss Minnie Anne, cook and garden, I was a pretty sickly child who got carsick on the way to school. And who would throw up at the first whiff of certain odors. In fact, as a third grader, I contributed mightily to the Great Maple Street Elementary School Chain Reaction Barf of 1964.

The Great Maple Street Elementary School Chain Reaction Barf of 1964.

I remember it as if it were a minute ago: Someone threw up in the hallway on the way back from the lunchroom. We’d had fish sticks, mashed potatoes and maybe turnip greens or peas for lunch. Something green. Anyway, the scent of fishy vomit floated my way.

My friend Sally stood in line in front of me as I projectile vomited into her waist-length, shiny brown hair.

Several other kids chucked on the person in front of them.

The school janitor was shoveling that minty sawdust-like stuff all over the hallway to try and mask the scent. It was a feast for all the senses: sight, smell, sound, the touch of the teachers pushing us against the wall and away from each other, and the lingering taste of, well, you know.

We all got to go home for the rest of the day.

While I know Sally forgave me for upchucking on her, I once advocated for her so vociferously that I got paddled by the principal.

“A little Stokely Charmichael”

Perhaps I fought so hard on her behalf out of guilt for spewing bodily fluids onto her; perhaps it was because I started fighting for the underdog as a tiny child protecting my brother during my parent’s knock-down, drag-out, liquor-fueled (him, NOT her; thank God they weren’t both drinking!) fights.

Whatever the reason, later that year or the next, Sally had been out sick for a week or two, and was being forced to complete all of her homework in what other kids and I thought was an unre
asonably short period of time. I circulated a petition about this being unfair, resulting in the paddling and my being called “a little Stokely Carmichael” by the principal, as he whacked my fifty or so pound self three or four times with a long wooden paddle. It even had holes in it to enhance the pain.

Screen Shot 2023-06-30 at 3.40.41 PM

Stokely Carmichael was a civil rights leader. In pre-integration small-town Georgia, comparing me to a Black man threatening this old white principal’s way of life was NOT a compliment. It was a comparison that earned me more punishment at home.

My beloved  little paternal grandmother – she probably weighed eighty-five pounds soaking wet – was courageous as hell, herself a victim of domestic violence and an advocate for the Black tenants to whom my grandfather rented run-down shanties. I’d like to think she was secretly proud of the principal’s comparison, though I am certain it mortified the rest of the family, most of whom did not hold me in favor for my questioning of the hymn, “Jesus Loves the Little Children” with its key line “red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world.” I wondered why, if Jesus loved everyone, we weren’t supposed to too?

A thrilling diagnosis.

I could go on about my guts as a kid, but I’ll fast forward to being 20 and having an “ulcerated area in my duodenum.” Truly, I was thrilled with the diagnosis, tendered by our trusted family doctor when I stayed in the hospital for tests and rest on a Christmas vacation home from college. Finally I had proof that I wasn’t making it all up, or, as my mother loved to say, “It is all in your head.”

She claimed I was faking it despite the fact that she drank about three bottles of Maalox a week to wash down the Anacin she took to help the tension headaches caused by the stress of her job working for a man she was terrified of, and living with a man she was terrified of because he would yank her hair out, punch her, throw her down steps, and threaten us with myriad weapons. Guns. Knives. Belts.

To make sure she knew whatever she did was worthless, he’d also sometimes trash the nice furniture she bought by slashing the surface of bedside tables with a hunting knife, punching or shooting holes in the wall, breaking glass to get into the door at all hours of the night, and literally pissing on the flowers she planted.

Yep. I think I came by my tender guts honestly.

Sometimes my mother would be doubled over in pain as she put on her makeup to go to work. Oh. And THAT smell would get to me, too. Because she had a port wine birthmark over half of her face, she literally cooked her “pancake” makeup each morning before applying it. Pancake makeup does not smell good first thing in the morning. Or ever.

She looked beautiful. But underneath that layer of makeup, and the starched white uniform, seamed white hose, and white oxford shoes she wore as her dental hygienist’s uniform, there was a riot of rage as dark and jagged as that birthmark that must have caused ungodly teasing in Depression-era Georgia and Alabama. It was probably part of the reason she felt as if she’d better say yes to my father’s proposal. About him? When she married him he was a World War II veteran who’d experienced his own share of trauma as a child whose father beat the hell out of him, and as a 18-year-old on a submarine in the Pacific during World War II. One story was that his best friend died right in front of him. My father had “hatch duty”. But one day the friend asked to open the hatch instead, and was killed the instant his head popped out in open air.

Multi-generational ACEs; medicine combinations; the bitter end of dark chocolate.

I now understand why my father suffered bouts of depression and anxiety, though I wish he’d had healthier ways of coping than jigger upon jigger of Early Times bourbon mixed with Coca-Cola, tons of my grandmother’s carbohydrate and fat-filled home cooking, relentless skirt chasing, and pound-downs on my mother when she sniffled, cleaned, didn’t cook what he wanted, complained about his wild spending or carousing, or didn’t properly clean and freeze the dove and quail he killed and brought home and left for her to “dress” because he was too smashed to do it himself.

Yep. Dead birds, bird guts and feathers, frozen little bird bodies suspended in ice in plastic containers in a deep freezer full of all manner of ice-encased fish and fowl.

Those could get me gagging too.

But I digress.

Yes. I’ve had a lifetime of gut issues I medicated with combinations of allergy medicine – because seasonal allergies and the resulting post-nasal drip (Sorry, but for folks with lots of ACEs, there are often issues with hyper-responses to allergens) – and the latest prescription for stomach ulcers. Tagamet and Tavist? That was a great combination, I explained to my doctor when I was in my early twenties. I don’t think he’d made the connection, yet, between allergies, post-nasal drip, and the Spring and Fall flare ups with gut pain and nausea until I explained why I needed both prescriptions.

Screen Shot 2023-06-30 at 3.49.07 PMOver the years there were endoscopies. Colonoscopies.The self-medicating power of the bubbles in beer. The realization that dairy was off the table. The realization that nightshade vegetables were off the table. The realization that gluten, too, was off the table. And then the horrific and deeply painful grief when one of my most favorite foods of all times – dark chocolate – was literally off the table and pretty much out of my life unless I wanted to pay dearly for having savored a bite or two of what had been a staple: four or five bars of Green & Black’s 85% organic chocolate a week. Almost a bar a day. For YEARS.

That loss came when the Damdemic hit, and I suddenly regressed into a primal fear of feeling incredibly unsafe in my own home, and in my own body, where the fire in my belly burned as if I’d swallowed a molten bowling ball.

Next report: Damndemic guts, masked horror, “Better Normals”, ACEs to PACEs, and the road to recovery being paved with many efforts.

Attachments

Hide

Images (4)

IMG_2842
Screen Shot 2023-06-30 at 3.35.35 PM
Screen Shot 2023-06-30 at 3.40.41 PM
Screen Shot 2023-06-30 at 3.49.07 PM

Carey Smith Sipp

carey.pacescommunites@gmail.com

❤️ 4👏 2