“Remember my name – you’ll be screaming it later.” Florence Nightingale

“My name is Jo, and I am a nurse and I am a psychedelic nurse.” These words opened my presentation at Breaking Convention 2023, Europe’s largest psychedelic conference. During this talk, I presented an argument that the skills, values, and practices within nursing have direct relevance to psychedelic space holding (now to be known as psychedelic caregiving) within various settings. I argued for person centred,  multimodal approaches to understanding and supporting the psychedelic experience and drew on wisdom from the vast lineage of nursing that I am proudly part of.

Breaking Convention draws individuals from around the world, offering a platform to delve into a wide range of topics relevant to the current psychedelic discourse. The presentations, each 30-minutes in length,  are recorded and made available, online, for free, allowing any interested individual to access them.  The talks also form part of the future psychedelic history books.

It’s now difficult for me to imagine that I almost didn’t speak at the conference, feeling completely overwhelmed whilst trying to submit an abstract, fearing the judgement of the readers.  I wasn’t sure if I had earned the right to speak about anything with any authority and I was concerned I wouldn’t have enough valuable or interesting insights for my audience. Additionally, I worried how my broad Essex accent and vocabulary would be received in an environment where esteemed academics and experts were presenting their extensive work. This hang up about my working class roots, accent and any associated judgement has a repetitive nature for me and although I am aware it can be somewhat of a superpower when working therapeutically with individuals, it has hampered my willingness to step up, in other arenas in the past.

Fortunately, I received tremendous support and encouragement from many people, especially from my dear mentor Julian who has always encouraged me to be myself (nice hair and nails included) and to speak from the heart, assuring me that my indifference towards speaking, compared to some, was precisely why I should speak and that my reflections and experience within the psychedelic space had value. Or from my beautiful cousin and co-facilitator Debbie, whose words “just do you darling” are always ringing in my little pixie ears Another wonderful source of encouragement came from my close friend Kirran (aka the K-man or rather the K-woman to me), who is the lead medic on the Psilocybin for chronic pain trial at Imperial College. Kirran, who has always spoken passionately about the role of the nurse and of the often special relationship between Dr’s & Nurses, had the inspirational idea that I could practise using my voice by sending voice messages to her, instead of the lengthy texts I was used to sending, checking and reading each one multiple times before pressing send. Kirran responded to my early attempts to do this (“Look Mummy, I’ve done a poo!”) with the care and enthusiasm of a mother encouraging a young child to master a new task. Little did Kirran, Julian & Debbie know that once I found my voice, it would become quite difficult to shut me up………

Interestingly, those opening lines of my presentation became the ones I practised the most, pacing my retreat space, repeating them, often never actually getting past them to the rest of the content. Over time, I realised how the words seemed to develop a power of their own. I believe this was in part because, as I collected my thoughts for the presentation, I was rediscovering my deep passion for nursing and care and that I had somehow lost touch with this in the midst of the excitement about my shiny new psychedelic career. In fact, the power and force of those words were such that I arrived at the convention as Joann Mallett and left with the new medicine/working name of, Nurse Jo.

I had previously discussed the possibility of changing my medicine name with my mentor and others, as I had always felt somewhat uncomfortable with my married name, Mallett. Taking on my husband’s name had never felt entirely natural to me, as I had a fondness for my maiden name, which reflected my Maltese heritage. However, I decided that  a return to Borg (think Cyborg etc.) may not be the most suitable name within the psychedelic space. Despite exploring different possibilities and variations on a theme, nothing seemed to resonate until the moment I finished my presentation. From then on, and for the remainder of the conference,  I frequently found myself surrounded by other nurses, eager to connect with a nurse within the psychedelic field. Thus, Nurse Jo was born, or rather reborn, a familiar experience for many who have a relationship with psychedelic experiences.  

Obviously, the name Nurse Jo needs little explanation and you mostly get what you see on the tin but for me it also says a lot about what I am not and what I do not wish to be i.e. a psychedelic therapist, Shawoman or the like.  I have been a nurse for nearly thirty years and although I may be working with a particular tool (i.e. psychedelic medicine) at the moment, I would drop it at a moment’s notice, if I felt it no longer served the people within my care or if something more helpful/effective came along.

I had an eventful drive to the conference in Exeter from London, swinging past Heathrow to pick up the infamous underground psychedelic therapist, Dr Frederike Meckel Fischer (formally a nurse), gifter of the rope ritual that now opens psychedelic space within many settings from the farm, to research and the jungle.   I pulled up at the university, kicked Frederike out of the car, legged it to my room, within a minute of the first, online preparation call for the last participant on the Psilocybin for Eating Disorders trial at Imperial College.   I had been drafted onto this study at quite short notice and had originally only been intended as a back up. This was the first meeting of what was to become a very profound experience for the participant, my fellow guide and now dear friend, Frederico Magalhaes (another shit hot Dr and nursing supporter) and I.

The logistical details of my speaking arrangement were released late, just before the start of the conference. I was thrilled to discover my talk would form part of a panel on Psychedelic Caregiving. I would be speaking after my wonderful mentor, Julian Vayne, and before a lovely psychiatrist, Andy Gibson. Andy works on the frontline in  mental health services and is also part of an organisation called PsyCare, which provides care and support to festival goers experiencing challenging drug experiences. This was the first time I had encountered the term “psychedelic caregiving,” and I later learned that Julian and Nikki Wyrd (the panel’s chair and director of the conference), had carefully considered this term. It’s roots in care immediately resonated with me, aligning with my approach to psychedelic work. 

I concluded my presentation with an amended version of the Nightingale pledge, where I made a declaration to be in service to the psychedelic medicines, to elevate the nursing profession, and to devote my working life to the people under my care.

Since my talk, I have been approached by numerous individuals from diverse backgrounds, each with their own unique experiences and questions. This blog serves as my initial attempt to gather my thoughts in response to common themes raised by these people, who have various questions such as “Could a psychedelic experience help with this or that?”, “What should I be looking for when considering a psychedelic retreat or guide?”, “How can I sit for a friend or loved one?” or “How can I prepare to work within the psychedelic space?”

Like those initial voice notes, this blog is a first attempt for me to gather my thoughts in writing and it may eventually serve as a foundation for a book, so I kindly request that you do not share it with anyone, particularly narcissistic individuals within the psychedelic space,  as you know how much I dislike many of them : )

Initially, I will only share the posts with my nearest and dearest, many of whom have played vital roles within and have consequently suffered as a result of my restricted interest in psychedelics.

Today, I affectionately refer to you as the Fellowship of the Ring (more on that later). It is with deep gratitude to you all, that I commit my thoughts to paper, hoping that, at some point, I may offer something of interest or usefulness to you on your own medicine paths or at the very least to help you better understand the thoughts, feelings, and behaviours of this peculiar little individual, or “little cunt” as Debbie lovingly refers to me, in an attempt to keep me grounded.

I love you all, most of the time 

Nurse Jo