Art Van Zee and Sister Beth Davies’s partnership

Art Van Zee and Sister Beth Davies’s partnership linked medical treatment for opioid use disorder with the daily support of a twelve-step community. The doctor and nun kept in close contact about shared patients, turning two different forms of care into a working network—and making their own presence increasingly important to people who feared losing access to either of them.

Complementary forms of care

In the Appalachian Bible Belt, the combination of medication-assisted treatment and twelve-step programs appeared to work best. Van Zee treated patients with Suboxone, while Sister Beth led a twelve-step support group. Their partnership joined ongoing medical care with peer support rather than requiring patients to choose between them.

That combination mattered in a setting where medication-assisted treatment could be contested even among people trying to help. Narcotics Anonymous’s official policy accepted medication-assisted treatment, but when Tess Henry sought a sponsor, longtime members asked to mentor her declined. Against that cultural tension, Van Zee and Sister Beth’s cooperation offered a practical way to connect treatment and community support.

A daily channel of communication

The partnership operated through frequent exchanges about patients’ lives beyond the clinic. Van Zee and Sister Beth communicated daily, by phone or email multiple times a day, and she alerted him when a shared patient faced a major setback, such as a death in the family or the loss of a job. Their contact allowed information from the support group to reach the physician as patients encountered disruptions that could affect their recovery.

Susan, whose name was changed, illustrates the long span of care they helped sustain. In spring 2017, one of her brothers died of an overdose. A few months later, Sister Beth informed the author that Susan’s youngest brother had also died; Susan had practically raised him. The losses came amid a family history in which only three of Susan’s ten siblings had avoided opioid addiction, and one of those three sold pills without using them.

Care grounded in attention and trust

Susan had been in Van Zee’s Suboxone program for six years. At their first appointment, he spent two hours learning her medical history, including her addiction and childhood abuse. She had recently undergone surgery for lung cancer; although he suggested that she stop smoking, he did not shame her for continuing. The account presents that consultation as attentive care shaped around the patient’s history, rather than a reprimand focused on one behavior.

With support extending beyond the clinic, Susan was moving from disability benefits through Ticket to Work, working twelve-hour shifts as a licensed practical nurse and attending community college to pursue a registered-nurse degree. Her progress did not erase the losses around her: she described opioid addiction as ingrained in local culture, and her fifteen-year-old son believed he would need to leave the area to escape its reach.

A fragile source of continuity

The partnership also depended heavily on two people whose patients worried about what would happen if either became unavailable. Members of Sister Beth’s group joked about bringing a pillow, blanket, and book to Van Zee’s office because of the long wait. Beneath the joke was a serious fear: Susan said many patients would be lost if the seventy-year-old doctor or the eighty-three-year-old nun were gone.

Van Zee was still working sixteen-hour days and consulting daily with Sister Beth about a growing number of patients, in addition to 150 people on his waiting list. He feared being struck by an intoxicated driver while jogging—not primarily for his own sake, but because he worried about where his patients would go. Their partnership offered continuity across medical and peer support, yet its reliance on two overextended caregivers exposed how precarious that continuity remained.