Transcript for the Piece Audio version of I'm Not a Doctor, but I Play One at the Holiday Inn

Narration: At his worst... Dimitri was living in his parent's basement in Detroit. He'd been using heroin for 27 years. His wife had died, many of his friends had died, and he was edging toward 40. That was when that it finally hit him that it was time to do something... and the something he ended up doing was Ibogaine. In 2002 Dimitri went to Amsterdam for an experimental Ibogaine treatment. It was given to him by a woman who cared for drug users out of her thatched roof farmhouse - surrounded by her five kids. Thirty hours after taking the drug, Dimitri was cured of his heroin addiction. Literally cured of his 27 year-old habit. He remembers waking up at the crack of dawn three days later... and experiencing a sensation that he hadn't felt in years: joy.

Dimitri: I've never felt that good in my life and I was sitting in that place and I didn't need heroin - I was completely exhausted - and I was - and I kept saying praise God over and over and over again - and one of the little girls - I can't remember which daughter it was said, "We had a black man from the Bronx and he kept saying the same thing." You know praise GOD man. Praise God.

Narration: Dimitri says a lot of people come out of Ibogaine treatments feeling - euphoric - almost evangelical. And Dimitri became a kind of Ibogaine convert... determined to take the 'good news' about this miracle drug, that had instantly cured him, to other junkies. He knew tons of people back in the states that needed help ... and as far as Dimitri was concerned, they weren't treated well by the traditional medical establishment.

Dimitri: I mean my girlfriend works in a hospital, she tells me these stories - and I've seen it - when I was an active user fought with doctors for friends of mine - a friend of mine sent home with spinal meningitis and aspirin - cause they didn't believe it - turned out to be HIV positive, too - you know, I took in him a second time and got in a big fight with this doctor, who started moralizing, you know, "God only gives you three chances." Not only is he an MD, but he knows how many chances God gives you.

Narration: And so Dimitri decided to become an Ibogaine provider himself... to save his friends just like the woman in Amsterdam had saved him.

There were only two problems with this otherwise laudable goal. First of all, because Ibogaine is a hallucinogen - it's illegal in the U.S. It's a Schedule 1 drug - like heroin - and if Dimitri was caught buying or selling Ibogaine, he could go to prison for the rest of his life.

The second problem was that by giving people Ibogaine, Dimitri was basically doing the job of a doctor or nurse without being either. Dimitri was a small time rock star, bike messenger, dishwasher. He hadn't even taken a first aid course... and Ibogaine is a potential dangerous psychotropic...

So for guidance, Dimitri hooked up with other underground Ibogaine providers - former junkies - like Dimitri - who over several decades had developed a kind of ad hoc collection of protocols about dosage and care.

And the first time he gave a treatment, it went okay. But with the second guy, a drug dealer who helped Dimitri find Ibogaine and who actually referred addicts to him for treatment ... it didn't go so smoothly.

Dimitri: So we go through the process. He gets done with it basically. This is my second treatment. And then he goes into a seizure. Eyes rolling into the back of his head. Foaming at the mouth. Biting his tongue. A seizure. He comes out of it we start talking about going to the hospital, he doesn't want to go, long story short, three seizures one of which had to have been a grand mal. It was unbelievable. I thought he was dead. Writhing, and you know, I was freaked. And at that point actually, I panicked and I didn't know what to do.

MUSIC

Dimitri: This guy's going to die and what the hell am I doing? You know and this guys going to die - yeah - what am I doing? What business do I have to do this, you know.

Narration: Dimitri managed to get the guy to a hospital where he eventually recovered. But this was the first time Dimitri realized exactly what he'd gotten himself into: how crazy it was to be flying without a net, doing a job that put other people's lives into his hands...

And this is the issue: Dimitri knows what it's like to be a junkie. To be desperate - frantic - to quit. And he believes that since he has what he thinks is a cure - despite the risk - it's his moral responsibility - his obligation really - to help.

Dimitri: But, it's terrifying man, especially, you spend time with these people, you get to know them. You know, you get to know people. You don't want them to die. You don't want them to be hurt in any way.

Narration: Because Dimitri doesn't want his clients to be hurt in any way he tries to be as much like a professional clinic as a former junkie with a "by the seat of your pants" operation can be. He's says he's even cobbled together a set of rules more or less through trial and error. For example, clients should be clean of drugs and alcohol for a certain amount of time before a treatment. They should get EKGs if possible, and liver panels. And so, just like he's had to invent nearly every thing else about this job - he's had to invent boundaries for himself. Boundaries that are hard to maintain with every one.

Dimitri: They ring my doorbell. They call me up in the night. I had a guy threatening to shoot me two weeks ago - went out on a relapse - this is like a real close guy, man. He wanted to fucking kill me.

Narration: Having a client threaten to shoot you probably wouldn't be accepted in the world of professional medicine... But Dimitri sees drug addicts differently than most people do. He loves them. I interviewed him for a total of 35 hours, over 7 months, and here's how he described every single addict he knows.

Dimitri: He's a brilliant guy. He's a beautiful guy. He's a great guy. He's a musician. He's a writer, he's an incredibly sweet man. He's such a great guy. He's got great taste in music. He read great books. He's funny. He's strange. I like him man, I really like him.

Narration: One of the people Dimitri talks about this way - one of his clients - is Jimmy. Jimmy's middle-aged, clean-cut, working class - the kind of guy you'd see working at the post office or sitting next to you on a bus. He's clearly a genuinely sweet guy - but if you hang around with him long enough you feel the dark cloud that follows him around. I talked to Jimmy a few days before Dimitri was going to give him an Ibogaine treatment and he told me that he had tried to shake heroin many times before. He'd done traditional rehab, and a whole array of alternative treatments - he even tried Ibogaine once before - with another underground provider. According to Jimmy, Ibogaine pretty much worked the first time around. He says after the treatment, he felt no craving for heroin. The thing that made him relapse was the dark cloud --- all the other problems in his life.

Jimmy: Some where around three or four months when I started feeling a little bit lonely again. You know, why isn't anything really happening? I'm feeling all these feelings, but what's really changing in my life, you know. I remember Eric was telling me about a guy who took Ibogaine and a few months later, met a girl, got married and I was like, well when is this gonna happen for me? and then I thought, maybe I'm just the same old person and there is no cure, you know?

MUSIC

[FADE UP ON STREET SOUND]

Dimitri: Let's see where this knucklehead is.

[AND UNDER]

Narration: I'm standing on a street corner in the rain in midtown Manhattan with Dimitri. It's 5 PM - the time Jimmy's supposed to show for his treatment, but he's late. Dimitri is not happy - just the week before, he was waiting for a client in the exact same spot and the guy never showed. That's not unusual - the "flake factor" is an occupational hazard when your entire client base is heroin addicts.

Narration: But it still gets to Dimitri, who's always nervous and tense before a treatment.

Dimitri: I'm getting hives, which is normal. See? All over my legs and feet. I get hives every treatment.

Narration: Finally - three hours later - three hours! ... Jimmy arrives...

Dimitri: There he is. (whistle) Jimmy! Jimmy!

Narration: We drive up and open the car door for Jimmy...

Dimitri: Get the FUCK in the car! (laugh)

Jimmy: Sorry for putting you through all that crap.

Dimitri: What did you forget you were gonna take a fucking strong African hallucinogen today? Slip your mind?

Jimmy: I just crashed because I was up all night.

Dimitri: oh, okay, at least you got some sleep.

Narration: And then Dimitri begins the underground provider equivalent of an intake survey?

Dimitri: You been hydrating yourself today?

Jimmy: yeah, sorta

Dimitri: When was the last time you used?

Jimmy: uhm, Thursday

Dimitri: what time?

Jimmy: Seven, maybe.

Dimitri: How many bags were you doing at the end?

Jimmy: uhm - it really depended on how much money I had - it tried to hold on to the bundle for the whole week (Dimitri okay) and I ended up doing the bundle in one day (Dimitri laugh) I mean, I can't hold on to it.

[AND UNDER]

Narration: As I listen to this exchange, it's hard to tell if Dimitri is getting any useful information. It's all so casual. Basically Dimitri and Jimmy just joke around until we get to the hotel in New Jersey - a comfortable chain where Dimitri has instructed Jimmy to book an economy suite with a small bedroom - and separate living space with cable TV. While Jimmy hangs out, Dimitri puts away some groceries and preps the room.

Dimitri: We'll set up a bucket for him to puke in. Wanna make the room as dark, as possible. Good thing we're starting at night.

Narration: Dimitri is careful to make everything as comfortable as possible for Jimmy. He even turns around the LCD alarm clock because he knows that people are really sensitive to light when they're on Ibogaine. Then he takes out about 20 capsules containing varying amounts of Ibogaine. He lays the pills on the desk and tries to figure out how much to give Jimmy.

Dimitri: (whistle) 16? That?s too much ? hmmm?

Lu: Can you say what you're doing?

Dimitri: I want to give him a dose of 16 milligrams per kilogram - trying to measure out the pills to add up to that. Okay that's right. You ready buddy?

Jimmy: yeah, I'm ready.

Dimitri: OK

Narration: Jimmy strips down to his underpants and crawls into bed before taking the dose. His job is to lay there - as still as possible - in this dark room and let the drug take effect. Dimitri's job is to wait on the other side of the door in case anything goes wrong. After two hours, Dimitri goes in to check on his patient. Jimmy doesn't acknowledge we're there until Dimitri asks how he's doing. He opens his eyes and looks around - but just like a newborn baby, his eyes don't really focus on anything.

Jimmy: Ohhh, it's really intense.

Dimitri: it's really intense? (yeah) Did you throw up a little bit?

Jimmy: Wha? Yeah.

Dimitri: You're doing fine though, bro. You're doing really good. Do you want me to get a towel for you?

Jimmy: No.

Dimitri: Okay, buddy. Okay.

Narration: The treatment takes about 30 hours and is, at least for Dimitri and me, uneventful. We watch a lot of TV. Dimitri checks in on Jimmy and cleans him when he throws up. Jimmy just lies there having visions - not sleeping - but not fully coherent either.

But Dimitri seems worried when Jimmy is finished the treatment. He isn't euphoric the way people usually are. Instead he's kind of depressed and agitated... and after chatting a little bit - Jimmy reveals that he'd been doing coke the night before.

Jimmy: And I was getting high the night before. Coke.

Dimitri: Oh, you did coke the night before. (laugh)

Jimmy: yeah, I was smoking crack.

Dimitri: Oh, you were smoking crack. (laugh) okay, let me tell you something, don't smoke crack the night before. (laugh)

Jimmy: Actually Friday when you called me up, I was smoking crack. And you asked me where I was?

Dimitri: At 5:00? (laugh)

Jimmy: Yeah.

Narration: Now remember that when we picked Jimmy up - he told Dimitri that he'd been clean since Thursday - the day before the treatment.

Dimitri: so you were smoking crack all night? So you didn't get any sleep

Jimmy: No, smoking crack.

Dimitri: So basically you haven't had any sleep since Thursday morning and it's Sunday evening. So you had that crack-Ibogaine combo.

Jimmy: And not only that, I was doing benzos and methadone, too.

Dimitri: oh, really? (laugh) for how long?

Jimmy: for about two weeks

Dimitri: How long were you taking benzos for?

Jimmy: About 2 weeks. Not every day - like every other day

Dimitri: Okay, and how long were you taking the methadone for? Everyday?

Jimmy: No, no - once a day - once a week, twice a
week.

Dimitri: Anything else? It doesn't really matter. For my amusement.

Jimmy: No, no.

Dimitri: Were you sniffing shoe polish or anything like that? No, no glue? Okay, alright.

MUSIC UP

Narration: Dimitri was joking, but later when I talked to him, he copped to the fact that mixing all those drugs was a really bad idea - something horrible could have happened.

Lu: So, the risk would be what, heart attack?

Dimitri: I don't know. I don't know. I don't know to be honest with you. I just maybe I should know that, but I don't.

Narration: After I went home, I called a doctor who does Ibogaine treatments at a licensed clinic in Cancun, Mexico. He told me that because Jimmy had taken benzodiazepine there was a serious risk of seizure - and potentially, death. Which brings us back to Dimitri's constant dilemma: he knows he's doing a really risky job, he can't control everything and the stakes are very high. And when I raise this with him - he suddenly seems sad.

Dimitri: And I probably don't have a lot of business doing this in a certain sense, but there's nobody else doing it.

Narration: And that - it seems - is the heart of it. No one else is doing it.

And so far everything's worked out okay for Dimitri. No one has been killed or hurt on his watch. In fact, he feels he's helped many people. And he likes doing this work.

Dimitri: The actual work is basically touching people, cleaning people, nurturing people, holding people up, soothing their fears, being stern when they need some direction ... and during the actual, being really patient and quiet - it really, it's really not about me.

MUSIC UP

Narration: The job is to love these people, he says. But sometimes that's really hard. There are just so many addicts with so many problems.

Dimitri: okay this guy, he's got a probation officer and he needs to do this, this and this, but he doesn't have a house, and this other guy's homeless, too and she's got all of these abandonment issues, and this once can't really get it, 'cause to get off the psych meds would be too much and on and on and on. You know all these people with really sad, hard lives. And I struggle with - I think about like, what am I really doing? How important is it? And I think about that a lot. Like I said, I think I've said this many times, this is what I can do, okay. This little thing, you know. This little thing.

Narration: Dimitri just hopes that doing that one little thing is enough.

Back