Pain and Addiction

This week, an excellent article on the American Pain Foundation (APF) was brought to my attention. In it, the APF’s stance that “the risk of [opioid] addiction is overblown” is examined in light of the fact that the APF receives a great deal of its funding from companies that produce addictive painkillers.  I highly recommend you click that link; the article is thorough and well-researched, and provides a valuable perspective on the kind of misinformation that can harm patients when medical issues become overly profit-driven. The companies producing and promoting the use of addictive painkillers clearly have financial motives to conceal their potentially harmful effects, and they also have clear motives for funding institutions such as the APF, which can lend credibility to research that might otherwise appear “scant or disputed”. Whether or not the people working at APF believe what they say about the “low risk” of opiate addiction — and despite the real good that APF may have done in the realm of patient advocacy — maintaining that prescription of opiates should be uncontrolled is severely irresponsible.

Will Rowe, the chief executive of the APF, is quoted in the linked article as saying that “The problem isn’t opioids… It’s poorly trained doctors who prescribe them too easily or in excess.” That is certainly true. No drug in and of itself is “good” or “bad”; all treatments are appropriate in some situations while being inappropriate in others. But Rowe and others similarly associated with the foundation also express fears that regulation of physicians will “scare them away” from prescribing opiates, and induce “opiophobia” that will harm patients.

Even if the fear of “opiophobia” is legitimate, I have a hard time believing that encouraging doctors to be more conservative in prescribing highly addictive drugs will cause more harm than it will prevent. What pain management doctors don’t seem to realize is that addiction is a distinct disease, and that some symptoms of what they think is “chronic pain” are, in fact, symptoms of addiction. Some patients absolutely do have chronic pain that requires long-term opiate treatment, but I would argue that many more patients have “chronic pain” which is actually chronic withdrawal. I have had more patients than I can count who, after a few days on buprenorphine, tell me that the underlying cause of their opiate use (back pain, joint pain, or other common pain conditions) has disappeared. In these patients, the initial problem that caused them to seek treatment for pain probably cleared up long ago, and that the pain they had been self-medicating was in fact withdrawal.

Patients who are addicted without knowing it, and who self-medicate for withdrawal, are among those most harmed by the APF’s insistence that opioids have “low risk” and must be protected from regulation. These substances are absolutely, unequivocally addictive, and downplaying that risk is an appalling betrayal of trust on the part of the APF and all similar institutions. Whether patients are willing to take that risk is a matter to be decided with their physicians, but that decision cannot be made well if both physicians and patients are assured that there is no risk.

I’ve written before about how more regulation on the prescription of pain pills could very easily decrease addiction (and its associated costs), choke off the supply of narcotics being sold illegally, and improve pain management by not compounding pain with further addiction-related problems. The APF’s stance against such regulation seems to me to be blatantly self-serving, which undercuts their claim to be focused entirely on patient welfare.

The Gold Standard

On this blog I tend to talk about opiate addiction more than any other kind, mostly because opiate-addicted patients are the ones I most often see and treat. Of course, we can still learn from other kinds of addiction — in fact, if we really want to look at a powerful model for the disease of addiction, we need to look back at the gold standard: smoking.

There is very little actual advantage to smoking a cigarette, not in the way that there is for other drugs. It does not give you a lasting or euphoric high; it is not a great way to party or relax after hard week at work; it does not have nearly the psychoactive effect of any other typically abused drug. It can be a social activity, but more and more restaurants, hotels, and even public parks and bars have been banning smoking in recent years; smoking is becoming less and less feasible as a means of social connection, like alcohol is. The nicotine itself, apart from its addictive effects, provides a minimal amount of relaxation or stimulation (depending on how it is smoked) that literally lasts only for seconds.

So why do people smoke, and why do they continue to smoke after it becomes costly, inconvenient, and even life-threatening? The answer, of course, is because of nicotine’s addictive effect on the brain’s reward system. People become so addicted to this short-lived effect that they find it necessary to reproduce it hundreds of times per day. A one-pack-per-day smoker is smoking 20 cigarettes each day, perhaps taking between 10 to 15 puffs per cigarette. That equals 200 to 300 hits per day. The effect on the brain of a single hit of nicotine lasts about 4 seconds. 250 hits per day gives 1000 seconds, or slightly less than 17 minutes of nicotine-stimulated brain activity per day. If someone smokes their one pack a day over a typical 16  hours of being awake, each day they are providing nicotine to the brain for only 2% of their waking hours.

Now think about the cost that society and individuals pay for this addiction in years of life lost due to cancers, chronic lung disease, premature heart disease, etc. On average, smokers die 13 to 14 years earlier than nonsmokers. (You can check out some of the tobacco statistics here.)

Smokers are exactly like anyone addicted to any other drug. They aren’t weak, and they aren’t bad people. To non-addicts, it looks like they are constantly, continuously making an irrational choice, but that’s not the case. Their brains have simply become so dependent on those little bursts of nicotine that it is incapable of putting any long-term health or financial consequences before getting the next hit. The very fact that it’s not so obviously harmful, and that it generally takes years to start showing negative health consequences, allows smoking to escape a great deal of the stigma of other addictive drugs. While it’s true that no addict should be stigmatized for their illness, that also doesn’t mean that smoking should get a pass, or be considered ‘not a problem’, when it can be just as powerful a controlling force in an addict’s life as a stronger opiate.

Cigarette smoking is less extravagantly destructive than heroin or methamphetamine, but it follows the same pattern of all other addiction. These are all different forms of a single disease. Our current scientific advances in the treatment of addiction notwithstanding, the best way of dealing with addictions is still with education and prevention, so that they never start in the first place.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

The blog is updating a little late this week because of the holiday. I hope that you all had wonderful Thanksgivings, and that you got the opportunity to spend time with your families and think about the things in life you’re thankful for. Though eating and shopping have become large traditional parts of this weekend, it’s always worthwhile to stop and reflect on what we are grateful for in our lives.

It’s always difficult to feel thankful when you’re suffering from a long-term illness, and the disease of addiction has a uniquely destructive effect on the lives of those it afflicts. The behavioral and psychological aspects of the disease often lead to broken families, as theft, lies, and betrayal take their toll on relationships with parents, spouses, and children. The financial drain of drugs and treatment can prevent addiction patients from being able to provide a large Thanksgiving feast. It’s a long, hard road to emerge from this disease, and it’s difficult at any point to feel particularly thankful for the troubles it brings.

But there are still reasons to be grateful. We now live in one of the few decades in history where an effective treatment for addiction is generally available. That treatment is not a cure, and it is not as widely available as I would like, but there is more hope of a normal life for addicted patients than there has ever been before. With more understanding of and education about this disease, the family members of addicted patients can learn to help their suffering loved ones and make treatment easier. And it is my sincere hope that understanding and treatment will only continue to improve.

Thanksgiving is now over, but I think it is worthwhile to remember what we have to be thankful for every day of the year. I am thankful for the ability to help my patients, and I will continue to reflect on that opportunity on Monday. Until then, I wish you all happy holidays.

A New War on Drugs

 

A great deal is made of the ‘War on Drugs’ in this country, and while it’s important to try and keep illegal drugs from falling into the wrong hands where they can be used for harm, there’s a much easier and possibly even more important battle over drugs that we simply aren’t fighting.

I’ve mentioned the epidemic of pain pill abuse a few times before on this blog. Prescription narcotics rank among some of the most addictive substances, activating exactly the same systems as heroin and cocaine. While they do have legitimate uses, they also have a huge potential for abuse — one that very few doctors, legislators, or even patients seem to be aware of. And while I’m always in favor of educating people about the nature of addiction, the epidemic of pain pill abuse has passed the point where education alone will be enough to stem the tide. It has been reported that 3% of the nation’s physicians supply more than 67% of the pain pills, a vast number of which get diverted, or are taken because of addiction rather than chronic pain. Those 3% of physicians must be aware that at least some of their patients are inappropriately dependent on the medication, and yet no attempt is made to limit it. No, education alone is no longer the answer in this battle against rampant abuse of drugs.

Thankfully, this battle isn’t one that requires actual violence, like the devastating fighting that can occur when police try to seize quantities of dangerous illegal substances. Fighting pain pill abuse won’t require us to police the nation’s borders against well-armed cartels of smugglers and profiteers. We know exactly where the the massive supply of inappropriate pain pills comes from; the prescription pads of physicians. Every prescriber of these pills is registered as a physician, and is a well-known figure in their community. All it would take to fight this epidemic is a few sentences written into the law restricting overprescription of painkillers, and a few DEA agents with a computer. That’s all it would take to essentially shut off the supply of prescription pain pills that are being diverted or taken inappropriately. Physicians who prescribe buprenorphine for addiction are limited to 100 patients each; if we exceed that limit, the DEA comes calling. How is it, then, that while we are kept strictly to our limit, other physicians can write for thousands of patients to get an unlimited number of painkillers, without any monitoring of progress or tracking of prescriptions? Take Michael Jackson’s death as an example. How was it possible for a single physician to order that many medications without a single red flag going up anywhere in the records of some pharmacy or pharmaceutical company? How is that no one every questioned him? If all the medications were for a legitimate course of treatment, they needn’t have been stopped, but it should at least have been looked into. The lack of oversight when it comes to prescription painkillers is appalling.

I understand that government intervention is often inefficient and can easily go wrong, but in this case it is vitally necessary. I have had more than one patient who was caught scamming my office, taking buprenorphine prescriptions while also going to another doctor for narcotic pain pills, either to take them in conjunction with buprenorphine or sell them on the street. These patients are usually discovered via the pharmacy, the point where their two prescriptions interact. The thing we need to do, then, is get the pharmacies on board and begin tracking some of these prescriptions from the point of sale. Obviously we need to protect the availability of narcotic medications for all those who need them for legitimate purposes, but there also needs to be some effort to control what is, in fact, a dangerous family of substances with therapeutic potential. Our current strategy — completely unrestricted flooding of the market — is resulting in nothing but widespread addiction, overdose, and massive diversion of prescribed medications.

Good Drugs and Bad

I’ve talked before on this blog about the fear patients and physicians often have that treating addiction with buprenorphine is “only trading one addiction for another”. While this might technically be true, it’s a phrase that ignores the huge material and medical improvements to patients’ lives that buprenorphine gives by eliminating the high-withdrawal cycle of active drug abuse. (Not to mention putting a stop to the destruction of the brain and other organs by toxic substances.)

The problem here is that there are a lot of fine distinctions between the normal course of the disease of addiction and the controlled, symptomless “addiction” of buprenorphine, but people who don’t know a lot about the field of addiction medicine aren’t likely to see that. And it’s mostly people who don’t know about addiction medicine — voters, lobbyists, abstinence care providers — who control the way it is seen by the public and dealt with by the law.

There is a similar confusion I often hear about “prescription drugs”. Lots of people know that misuse and overdose on prescription narcotics cause a huge number of deaths every year. There’s a general sense that we have to reduce the number of drugs being prescribed, because more drugs leads to more death. So when physicians like me who realize the need for medication treatment of addiction try to push for the power to prescribe more medication, we are met with resistance from the belief that prescription drugs kill people, and are bad.

While this is an understandable response to the amount of drug deaths we see yearly in the U.S., it is also an overgeneralization that actually does a great deal of harm to everyone involved. It’s true that many kinds of prescription medication, especially narcotics, can be and are abused. It’s true that patients often scam multiple doctors to get prescriptions for these kinds of medications, and that the best way to cut down on their abuse would be to keep a stricter watch on prescriptions and reduce the number of prescriptions given out. So how can I advocate for wider prescription?

There are several very important distinctions that “prescription drugs” fails to acknowledge. The first, and maybe most important, is that it’s virtually impossible for a patient who is already addicted to opiates to lethally overdose on buprenorphine. Once the opiate receptors are fully saturated, taking more buprenorphine will have no appreciable effect. So while it can certainly be diverted to the street and shouldn’t be given out indiscriminately, buprenorphine is infinitely less dangerous than ordinary prescription narcotics and benzodiazepenes. It also carries fewer health risks in and of itself than many stronger opiates.

Secondly, buprenorphine by definition is a medication used to treat addiction, and therefore would only be prescribed by physicians who are knowledgeable about treating the disease of addiction. It’s my opinion that the root of our prescription painkiller problem today is physicians who don’t know or don’t understand the addictive effects of the medications they prescribe, and aren’t willing to deal with the addictions of their patients. Over-prescribing of opiates and narcotics has led to a rise in the incidence of the disease of addiction, and now new, different medications are required to treat this disease that we created.

A good way to think about this problem is by analogy to viruses and vaccines. It seems non-intuitive at first that exposure to a virus could help you avoid the problems caused by that virus, but that’s exactly how vaccines work. It’s also how buprenorphine works; by introducing a safer, more predictable, more controllable version of the problematic prescription drugs, we can prevent and alleviate the problems they cause, from crime rate spikes to the deaths of celebrities.

There is no such thing as a “good drug” or a “bad drug” — all drugs can be good when they’re given and taken in the right circumstances, and all drugs can be bad when they’re abused. Saying that all prescription drugs are bad is a shortsighted assumption that can do long-lasting damage to patients and physicians alike.

Simple Truths

The truth is never simple.

This week, I discovered that one of the patients in my office is a drug dealer. While she is seeing me for her opioid addiction and getting buprenorphine prescriptions, she continues to see her regular doctor to get prescriptions for her narcotic pain pills. She then sells the narcotics on the street. She is defrauding her insurance company, lying to multiple doctors, and enabling other addicts by illegally making prescription narcotics available to them.

She is also a 76-year-old grandmother, widowed, and barely able to walk due to scoliosis — the reason she was taking addictive prescription narcotics in the first place. She lives with her son, who helps to take care of her. Both this woman and her son are on Medicare and disability, and her profits from selling narcotics are a significant part of their income and is absolutely essential for them to make ends meet.

Selling drugs is criminal and morally wrong; in addition to harming those who buy the drugs, it has long-lasting consequences on the entire healthcare system. “Diversion” — when prescription drugs are sold on the street rather than being taken as prescribed — is a major issue in pain management and addiction right now, and it’s one of the reasons that many physicians are so reluctant to treat addicted patients.

The selling of drugs illegally also reinforces the connection between substance addiction and crime; it familiarizes younger addicts with criminal behaviors, but also casts undeserved shame on people who have never committed a crime but are addicted to prescription narcotics due to illness and injury, like this woman herself.

Clearly what my patient is doing is wrong — but saying she is “weak”, or a bad person, becomes difficult. Here we have a woman who is desperate and disabled, just trying to survive. The Occupy Wall Street movement which has recently spread throughout the country is teaching us just how much desperation and anger exists among people trapped in poverty and unemployment, and how desperate situations can lead to desperate acts. The Occupy movement has been ridiculed for not having a clear agenda or offering solutions to America’s financial problems, but this is foolish, and it’s a distraction from the really important thing; that it doesn’t matter whether Occupy Wall Street has a clear agenda. What matters is that it is happening. People are spontaneously gathering all over the country to express their frustration with the economy. That this is happening at all is a clear sign that this country’s social, economic, and medical systems are massively, disastrously broken.

My patient is not connected to the Occupy Wall Street movement, except for the fact that her situation is a symptom of a massively broken system. Just the fact that she is forced to sell her pain pills in order to make ends meet is a sign that something has gone terribly wrong in the Social Security systems meant to keep her out of poverty, and the medical systems that are meant to effectively manage her treatment.

Her terrible situation does not excuse her from the responsibility of the harm she’s caused by selling illegal drugs. All talking about it can do is help others understand the root of the problem, which is the only way we as a society might have a hope of solving it. And if nothing else, this goes to show just one more way in which the public, “commonsense” perception of drugs, drug addicts, and even drug dealers is far too simple, divided, and prejudiced to approach the deeply complicated truth.

Self-esteem and Treatment

Addiction treatment is often a very turbulent and even painful period in a patient’s life, for reasons that may or may not be directly connected to their treatment. Often patients are driven to seek treatment by a traumatic event in their lives — the death of a loved one, the “intervention” of friends and family, or legal troubles that require them to get “clean”. This
is one reason why my office will recommend counseling to those who want it, since pure medical treatment of the disease sometimes leaves behind emotional and interpersonal issues in a patient’s life that should be addressed.

Every patient’s life is different, but one problem that I see many of my patients wrestling with a lack of self-esteem. If it seems odd that self-esteem should be an issue in addiction treatment, keep in mind that, no matter what kind of treatment is used, overcoming addiction is often a long and arduous process. Even with medication — the kind of treatment that causes the least physical suffering — an addiction patient often has to
adjust their life in major ways; whether it’s finding a new drug-free social circle or dealing with the effects their illness and treatment are having on friends and family, the challenges of addiction treatment can be ongoing and severe. Without some belief in their own strength and ability to cope, some patients can find it next to impossible.

Unlike removing their cravings for addictive drugs, this isn’t a problem I can easily solve for my patients. But it’s clear to me that something needs to be done to help give addiction patients more faith in their own ability to manage their health and cope with the hardships of treatment, they need to be empowered — the same sort of general encouragement that is often available for people recovering from other diseases, like cancer, or from major surgery. It is recognized in these areas of medicine that optimism and self-esteem are valuable tools in recovery, and they are encouraged by medical personnel and by friends and family. In addiction this, like so many other aspects of care, is largely ignored, and many treatment providers still try to shame patients out of their desire to use, which only makes things worse. A person suffering from addiction will most likely try to eliminate feelings of shame and guilt by relapsing to their drug of choice, not by pulling themselves up by their bootstraps to do a better job.
Building self-esteem and self-empowerment in this patient population is a complicated and delicate process. It is best accomplished after patient’s cravings and withdrawal  symptoms have been treated with medications as the relief of these symptoms will at least give patient the ability to refrain from using. Expecting patients to refrain from using in the face of intolerable withdrawal symptoms will only expose them to another potential
failed attempt at changing their lives and will continue to pile on the shame, guilt, and feelings of helplessness and worthlessness. The current most commonly relayed message to those suffering from the disease of addiction by most treatments based on 12 step phiolosphy is still shame, guilt, and helplessness. These messages to those who are addicted must stop before we can make significant progress in treatment. As I’ve said a thousand times before, addicts are sick, not evil; and sick people deserve
treatment, not punishment.

As a physician, I sometimes find it difficult to walk the thin line between encouraging my patients to think positively about the future and giving them false hopes about what addiction treatment is currently capable of. I am also mostly powerless to help them with the consequences of bad decisions in their lives, and the patterns of bad decision-making that may have accumulated over the years of their addiction. Nonetheless, as people with a serious medical condition, addiction patients deserve the same encouragement that  cancer patients routinely receive; that they are stronger than their illness, that they can beat their condition and return to their normal, healthy lives.

Addictive Personalities

We used to think of addiction as a moral sin — something that happened to people who were weak, or sinful, or broken in some way. Over time, this view grew into the perception of addiction as a moral failing, or some type of personal deficit that made some people become addicts and others not. The first few haphazard attempts to medically describe the disease of addiction still held onto this viewpoint, that addiction was caused by an inborn character weakness; eventually this gave rise to the idea of an “addictive personality”, a vague series of personality traits thought to cause addiction.

The concept of an “addictive personality” as a cause of addiction has been discredited for years, ever since physicians have begun to think of addiction as a physical disease and not an inbred moral issue. It became clear that certain chemicals had the potential to addict anyone, regardless of personality, and before long most serious medical  discussions had abandoned the concept of an addictive personality altogether.

Now, as we struggle with the concept of addiction as disease of the brain, those who work with addicts still have to deal with the many “bad” behaviors that those with addiction display. We have also started to realize that to some extent many people with addiction display many of the same characteristics — poor judgement, poor evaluation of risk/benefit analysis, impulsevenss, easy boredom, craving for excitement, difficulty learning new
behaviors, lying, and others.  These clusters of behaviors seem to be common to many suffering with addiction; in other words, they appear to form a pattern of behavioral symptoms that are linked to the physical disease.

Do these behaviors arise because of the addiction and the neural damage it can cause, which would make them a set of acquired cognitive deficits secondary to the development of addiction?  Or are they a set of dormant, inborn characteristics that exist in our patients that are pre-disposed to developing addictions (which we know have a genetic component)?  We don’t know the answers to these questions, and they will be very difficult to study, partly due to the complexity and misunderstood nature of addiction, and partly because it develops at a very early period of life when a person’s full personality is not yet formed. If, at some point, it can be proven that these behavioral traits come before addiction and contribute to its development, then perhaps there is a definition for an addictive personality disorder after all.

The discussion of a possible “addictive personality disorder” is not about developing a new way to label addicts, or trying to go back to the concept of addiction being some type of inbred defect. If there were a cluster of personality traits that we could recognize as being suggestive of the development of an addictive disorder, then perhaps it would lead to early
recognition of a “pre-addiction” condition that might be amenable to early recognition, intervention, and prevention. Even if we can prove that an “addictive personality” exists, it should still not be seen as a defect or a moral failing; like other potential personality disorders, it is due to factors beyond a person’s control and merits treatment, not punishment.

The brain is such a complex system that there are certainly undiscovered connections between chemicals and behavior still waiting to be uncovered. I am looking forward to physicians and patients moving forward together to advance treatment and prevention of this disease.

The Physician’s Position

Working in the field of addiction has the tendency to put M.D.s and other health care professionals in a very unusual and often disorienting position; we are expected to give in to the instructions and demands of ‘counselors’ and other self-proclaimed addiction experts who are not professionally  or medically trained. This is often very frustrating to us when we attempt to make our voices heard. We are used to being respected for our education, the number of years that we have put into training, our professionalism, the standards we try to uphold, and our expertise regarding issues of human health and disease. Yet, in this particular field, we are often viewed by others as knowing less than the patients we treat. And it’s all because most doctors and highly-trained professionals don’t have a personal history of addiction.

I have experienced this strange anti-non-addict prejudice many times in my online discussions with representatives of 12-step programs. (In one memorable argument, I was ridiculed for having letters after my name — as though the ‘M.D.’ was a pair of mystic runes that prevented me from seeing the truth.) Trained doctors are relative newcomers in addiction-related fields. Our profession has not, historically, been the one leading the treatment of this disease. In fact, many blame us for ignoring addiction, not understanding it, offering false hopes, enabling it, or in fact being a major cause of it through our prescription pads. And while it’s true that mismanagement by uninformed doctors has been a contributing cause of addiction — particularly addiction to prescription painkillers — that is reason for more doctors to come into the field and get the education to understand this disease and its causes. Efforts to keep physicians out of addiction certainly won’t help us understand and deal with addiction as a disease.

I’ve seen it said often that “nobody understands but another addict”. This attitude does not exist anywhere else in medicine, and I am not sure where it comes from. While it can certainly be helpful and emotionally supportive to speak to someone who’s shared the same problems you have, there is a limit to this idea. Cancer patients don’t refuse to be treated by doctors who have not themselves had cancer. A patient with chronic headaches won’t storm out of a doctor’s office because the doctor doesn’t have chronic headaches and “wouldn’t understand”. Physicians are trained to be able to offer help, understanding, and compassion to patients in many different situations. In fact, a physician who has specialized in treating a particular disease may “understand” better than the patient what the disease is doing to their body, and how to fix it. Most people who have a problem are anxious to explain their problems to others, to make them understand what it is like from their viewpoint, and to seek their understanding and help. Only in this field does there seem to be this rejection of assistance from those who have not had addiction problems.

I believe that the tide is changing, and that physicians do have both a stake in this disease and some very valuable ideas to offer, which is why I write this blog. There are certainly going to be some bumps in the road, and physicians will have to prove that they are compassionate and competent in treating addiction, but there is only so much proof that can be offered. I am afraid that no amount of successful care from trained professionals will convince some of those who cling to ineffective treatment methods and are not interested in learning anything new.

Medication Metaphors

I have many patients who have been stable on Suboxone for a long time, sometimes for years, who come to me and ask to taper off their dose in the hope that they can get off the medication altogether. I have used blood pressured medication and insulin as examples to explain why Suboxone is a maintenance medication that needs to be taken continuously, but these patients never seem convinced. They feel that they are not ‘succeeding’ or are not ‘sober’ while they are taking the medication, even if they are living full, healthy, happy lives. I’ve talked a lot on this blog about why I believe people come to feel this way, and why I disagree with their reasoning. I haven’t spent as much time talking about the reason why I try to dissuade my patients from trying to taper off. The reason is very simple: it doesn’t work.

With some medicines, tapering off is a valid strategy. Antibiotics work like catapults or bombs; they are a way to kill a large number of invading enemy organisms very quickly. Once most of the invaders are dead, the problem is over, and more antibiotics won’t do any good. There’s no point in firing weapons at an empty field with no enemy soldiers on it. After following the prescribed course, the patient can stop taking the antibiotics and return to their normal lives, feeling perfectly healthy. Other medicines, like non-narcotic painkillers, are given only for a short time because the human body can heal itself without their help. Something you would need to take painkillers for — say, a cut from a surgical procedure, or a broken bone –  will repair itself whether or not you take medication; the painkillers are only to help you feel more comfortable along the way. Once the body’s healing process is finished, there’s no need for you to feel more comfortable, so the painkillers can (and should) be stopped with no ill effects.

Buprenorphine works very differently from either of these examples. Addiction isn’t caused by any invading organism, so taking one massive dose and then stopping the medication won’t do any good. Many people seem to think that buprenorphine will work like other painkillers, and that the brain will repair itself while they take it, but for the vast majority of people this simply isn’t the case. The damage caused by addiction affects a very delicate part of the brain, which won’t heal on its own the way a broken bone will. Our current understanding of the disease of addiction is that  the damage caused by addiction is permanent, so the symptoms will also be permanent, unless they are treated by a maintenance medication like buprenorphine. 12-step and counseling programs sometimes tell their clients that the brain can repair itself after a certain amount of time and counseling, but there is absolutely no solid science to back up such a claim. As soon as a patient stops taking buprenorphine, the underlying damage asserts itself again and the symptoms return, which very often leads to relapse.

A good way to think about this is to imagine the damage caused by addiction as a leaking crack in a dam, and imagine that the dam is holding back a reservoir from flooding the town where you live. It’s fairly easy, and VERY important, to put a patch over the crack to keep it closed; if you don’t, then the water pressure will make it wider, and it will be harder and more difficult to seal up later. As long as the patch holds, life can go on as normal in the town, but the patch isn’t fixing the underlying crack or causing it to “heal” itself magically. All the patch is doing is keeping the damage from getting worse, and keeping the people in the town from suffering the consequences of a break. If the patch is ever removed, the water will immediately start leaking through again, pushing the crack wider and causing a flood.

Using this image, we can think of buprenorphine as a patch over the damaged parts of the brain, holding back the flood of symptoms, cravings, and damaging behaviors that addiction will cause if left untreated. It doesn’t fix any of the underlying damage. It only keeps it from getting worse and keeps it from negatively affecting a patient’s life. In my experience, patients who taper off their medicine because they feel that they aren’t fully ‘clean’ will suffer a relapse in almost all cases.

Providing patients with the complete truth is very important when they have questions or concerns. I always tell my patients that while it is possible for a very few people to taper off Suboxone successfully, for most people it is harmful and counter-productive, and I rarely recommend it. Understanding how buprenorphine works and what it does and does not do is essential to a comprehensive and effective treatment, and I would hope that all prescribers of buprenorphine take the education of their patients and their loved ones very seriously.