Rolling Stone recently had a very in depth article about psychedelic treatment with a good amount of info on iboga and ibogaine. The article mentions the underground treatment provider ecosystem and the perspective that some of the researchers and doctors have of the movement. One doctor mentions he knows a lot of underground ibogaine providers but only trusts 2 out of the 10 and recommends for people to get their ibogaine treatment outside of the country in a center with a good reputation.

Also, there are some quotes from our friend Elizabeth Bast who is a fellow Bwiti initiate into the same group that I was initiated with. Her husband Chor Boogie went to the “Iboga House” back in the day to detox from opiates. The Iboga House was run by 10th generation Bwiti shaman Moughenda Mikala. The Iboga House cleaned up a lot of addicts during its time.

 

Click here for original source www.rollingstone.com

Plus, not every underground patient gets care as elaborate or expert as Dr. Y’s. Some don’t receive the preparation or follow-up they may need, because they can’t afford it, or because in an underground, patients don’t have the luxury to be picky about their providers; they may have to take anyone whose number they can manage to get their hands on, and it can be hard for laypeople to adequately vet providers anyway. An M.D. who used to administer psychedelics (he prefers not to say which) for depression and anxiety (and who, when I tell him he’ll have a secret identity – like Batman – asks if he can be Dr. Batman) doesn’t provide underground psychedelic treatment anymore because it started to feel too threatening to his legitimate practice, but in extreme cases he still refers opiate addicts to underground providers who work with ibogaine. “I know quite a few people who do that,” he says. “But I only trust two of them. Out of about 10. These are nurses, or respiratory therapists – people that know how to resolve an emergency.” Outside of that, there’s “a whole subculture” of more amateur iboga and ibogaine therapists, Dr. Batman says. “It’s a movement that’s driven by addicts helping other addicts. I don’t think that’s good, per se.”

It would be best, in Dr. Batman’s opinion, for people to get iboga-based addiction treatment in a reputable clinic outside the country. According to one such center in Mexico, one in 10 patients needs some medical care, one in 100 needs serious medical intervention, and, even in the hospital-like setting, people do occasionally die. But not everyone has the money to travel to the best treatment. “It’s very difficult for me to make that referral” to the underground for such a risky compound, Dr. Batman says. But sometimes his concern that someone will join the nearly 100 Americans who die of opioid overdose every day overrides his hesitation.

It would be best, in Dr. Batman’s opinion, for people to get iboga-based addiction treatment in a reputable clinic outside the country. According to one such center in Mexico, one in 10 patients needs some medical care, one in 100 needs serious medical intervention, and, even in the hospital-like setting, people do occasionally die. But not everyone has the money to travel to the best treatment. “It’s very difficult for me to make that referral” to the underground for such a risky compound, Dr. Batman says. But sometimes his concern that someone will join the nearly 100 Americans who die of opioid overdose every day overrides his hesitation.

Elizabeth Bast, a 41-year-old artist and mother, also felt like she was out of options when she and her husband, Joaquin Lamar Hailey (better known as street artist Chor Boogie), flew to Costa Rica to get iboga therapy at a healing center after Hailey relapsed into an old heroin addiction that both of them felt was going to kill him. When he felt he needed a booster dose six months later, they turned to an underground provider closer by, in the States. Iboga “was crucial,” Bast says. “It saved his life.” The couple have started organizing and facilitating treatment trips for addicts to other countries (the drug is illegal in less than a dozen). But there are a lot of others they can’t help. Since Bast wrote a book about their experience, “I get inquiries every day: ‘My brother’s dying, and I can’t get out of the country.’ We would love to support that. But it’s too risky.”