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从吸毒者到医生
At Arlene Schnitzer Hall on Monday， Aleka Spurgeon-Heinrici will don the green-trimmed hood， with gold tassel， of a doctor of medicine.
“Aleka has overcome obstacles， become a medical school success and now wants to go out and make a difference，” says Dr. Molly Osborne， associate dean for student affairs.
“We want more than just people who can learn the science，” says Osborne. “We want the people who can bring to the profession an ability to overcome obstacles.”
Still， a doctor with a history of drug addiction challenges some of medicine’s deepest stereotypes： “once a junkie， always a junkie.”
“That is why it was important to come to terms with my story and just be open about it，” says the 29-year-old Spurgeon-Heinrici. “I know that people can change. We can recover. We can heal.”
When Aleka was 8， her mother moved with the children and a new man to Eugene. While her mother pursued a new life， the lonely girl retreated to the Eugene Public Library. But by seventh grade， her refuge was middle school outliers with whom she started guzzling Boone’s Farm wine， smoking cigarettes and sleeping every night at the Masonic cemetery. By 18， she was in California cashing fake checks for gang members and shooting heroin.
Then one day her visiting brother walked in on her shooting up. Her mother got her into treatment. Altogether， she went to outpatient treatment four times and inpatient treatment three times before she succeeded.
Sober， she enrolled at Portland State University at 19. Graduating with a 3.9 GPA and hundreds of hours of volunteer work， she applied to medical schools. She wrote frankly about her years as a street kid.
Then she and her high school sweetheart went to Costa Rica， where she drank a glass of wine to celebrate. Soon she was drinking， then using drugs. Then the letter came. She was accepted to OHSU.
She applied for a deferred entry and left Oregon. She drifted back to New York and became involved with a man sold drugs in Harlem. He told her one morning that she didn’t belong on the street. That she had too many gifts to waste them.
Filled with guilt and shame， she returned to Portland and went to Hooper Detox. From there， she went into Central City Concern’s recovery mentoring program， where a permanent community of support proved the key. She started OHSU two years later， living in a halfway house.
Through that terrifying first year of med school when， $25，000 in debt， she felt the panic of not being able to quit. Throughout the lectures， exams and intense hospital rotations in the third year， she kept going to 12-step meetings and kept sponsoring other women in recovery.
She found mentors.
She leaned on Dr. Nicholas Gideonse and Dr. Marc Gosselin who saw her connecting to patients and understanding of addiction as a huge plus for a family physician. Gideonse says unlike many students who felt too competitive to admit need， she was open about her struggles. She also scored the highest grade of the year on the family medicine rotation.
Cheering her commencement Monday will be mother， family and friends from her 12-step program who say she is a living example that those in recovery can dream big. Says one recovering addict： “Her graduating from medical school is in many ways， like we all have.”
“一日为吸毒者终身为吸毒者。”今年29岁的Aleka·Spurgeon-Heinrici说：“我之所以跟所有人讲我的故事，是因为我知道人可以改变，我们可以恢复，我们可以痊愈。”
At Arlene Schnitzer Hall on Monday， Aleka Spurgeon-Heinrici will don the green-trimmed hood， with gold tassel， of a doctor of medicine.
“Aleka has overcome obstacles， become a medical school success and now wants to go out and make a difference，” says Dr. Molly Osborne， associate dean for student affairs.
“We want more than just people who can learn the science，” says Osborne. “We want the people who can bring to the profession an ability to overcome obstacles.”
Still， a doctor with a history of drug addiction challenges some of medicine’s deepest stereotypes： “once a junkie， always a junkie.”
“That is why it was important to come to terms with my story and just be open about it，” says the 29-year-old Spurgeon-Heinrici. “I know that people can change. We can recover. We can heal.”
When Aleka was 8， her mother moved with the children and a new man to Eugene. While her mother pursued a new life， the lonely girl retreated to the Eugene Public Library. But by seventh grade， her refuge was middle school outliers with whom she started guzzling Boone’s Farm wine， smoking cigarettes and sleeping every night at the Masonic cemetery. By 18， she was in California cashing fake checks for gang members and shooting heroin.
Then one day her visiting brother walked in on her shooting up. Her mother got her into treatment. Altogether， she went to outpatient treatment four times and inpatient treatment three times before she succeeded.
Sober， she enrolled at Portland State University at 19. Graduating with a 3.9 GPA and hundreds of hours of volunteer work， she applied to medical schools. She wrote frankly about her years as a street kid.
Then she and her high school sweetheart went to Costa Rica， where she drank a glass of wine to celebrate. Soon she was drinking， then using drugs. Then the letter came. She was accepted to OHSU.
She applied for a deferred entry and left Oregon. She drifted back to New York and became involved with a man sold drugs in Harlem. He told her one morning that she didn’t belong on the street. That she had too many gifts to waste them.
Filled with guilt and shame， she returned to Portland and went to Hooper Detox. From there， she went into Central City Concern’s recovery mentoring program， where a permanent community of support proved the key. She started OHSU two years later， living in a halfway house.
Through that terrifying first year of med school when， $25，000 in debt， she felt the panic of not being able to quit. Throughout the lectures， exams and intense hospital rotations in the third year， she kept going to 12-step meetings and kept sponsoring other women in recovery.
She found mentors.
She leaned on Dr. Nicholas Gideonse and Dr. Marc Gosselin who saw her connecting to patients and understanding of addiction as a huge plus for a family physician. Gideonse says unlike many students who felt too competitive to admit need， she was open about her struggles. She also scored the highest grade of the year on the family medicine rotation.
Cheering her commencement Monday will be mother， family and friends from her 12-step program who say she is a living example that those in recovery can dream big. Says one recovering addict： “Her graduating from medical school is in many ways， like we all have.”
“一日为吸毒者终身为吸毒者。”今年29岁的Aleka·Spurgeon-Heinrici说：“我之所以跟所有人讲我的故事，是因为我知道人可以改变，我们可以恢复，我们可以痊愈。”