I am indebted to more people than I can list—family, friends, colleagues, collaborators, coworkers, competitors, and patients. Some deserve special thanks:
Claes Wahlestedt has been a friend and collaborator for some twenty-five years. As a fellow research student, he pulled me into the fascinating world of neuropharmacology, and he has since always enriched my thinking with his exciting perspective, often very different from my own yet so complementary.
Erik Widerlöv was many years ago my thesis adviser and was able to strike the perfect balance between guidance and freedom, allowing me to grow in the early stages of my training as a physician and research student.
Jörgen Engel introduced me to the neuroscience of addiction; Bob Murison helped me as I moved into behavioral pharmacology. Both have remained dear friends.
George Koob, currently the director of the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism in Bethesda, Maryland, was once my postdoctoral mentor at the Scripps Research Institute in La Jolla, California. That experience continued to inspire me for many years.
Marie Åsberg supported me when I was starting my own research program and became a role model. A lunch with Marie remains the most reliable cure for a temporary loss of inspiration.
Lars Gunne, one of the pioneers of methadone maintenance treatment, taught me to combine scientific rigor with empathy and respect for patients with addictive disorders, in a field where those elements are too often lacking.
Rainer Spanagel, Roberto Ciccocioppo, and Donald Gehlert are remarkable scientists and great friends whom I too rarely get to see or collaborate with these days.
Daniel Hommer was a wonderful physician scientist, a close collaborator who taught me much of what I know about brain imaging, and a friend whose generosity and big heart touched us all. Tragically, Dan died while this book was being written, leaving a huge void in our lives.
Yavin Shaham and his wife, Karin Helmers, are the best friends anyone could ever wish for. Yavin is a stellar neuroscientist, a true scholar, and a model of integrity and generosity. Without his friendship, I don’t know how I would have gotten through some difficult times. Without his scholarship, I would not know half of what I know.
I am indebted to countless patients encountered over some twenty-five years. Many have taken journeys that were painful to follow, but sharing their experience has also frequently been heartwarming and enlightening. Occasionally sharing the joy of life winning out over disease is the ultimate award in my line of work.
Numerous people at the Hazelden Foundation, Center City, Minnesota, were immensely helpful as I was developing this project. I am particularly grateful to President and CEO Mark Mishek; Provost Valery Slaymaker of the Hazelden Graduate School of Addiction Studies; and Professionals in Residence Program Specialist Roxanne McGurk.
Many members of my research group, past and present, have become a second family and enabled me to do most of what I have done. Over time and on both sides of the Atlantic, we have learned together, developed concepts, generated data, shared joys and sorrows, and had fun while trying to remember why we do what we do—because patients need it. As is the nature of this strange, nomadic science life, people have moved to other countries, other fields, their own labs, or clinical work. I proudly follow the careers of former trainees as they build their own research groups or clinical programs. They include Roberto Rimondini at Bologna University, Italy; Annika Thorsell at Linköping University, Sweden; Wolfgang Sommer and Anita Hansson in Mannheim, Germany; Christina Barr at the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism; Åsa Magnusson at the Karolinska Institute; and Jesse Schank at University of Georgia, to name a few. Among the current crew, staff scientists Jenica Tapocik and Melanie Schwandt are as appreciated as they are indispensible. As for the postdocs still in the lab, get a job and I’ll name you in the next edition!
Helena, Sara, and Hanna, my three muses, and Johan and Martin, my guy friends in the family, have given meaning to it all and made my work possible by following me wherever it has taken me. They have also provided all the distraction from science I will ever need. Their happiness means more to me than anything else.
This book is dedicated to the memory of my father. One of the toughest men I have ever met, he once turned himself in to the Gestapo in exchange for his little brother, only to live seven decades past the death sentence brought upon him by that action. Rising from the ashes of the Holocaust, he devoted his life to my mother, me, and my sister. To create opportunities for us, he left behind a successful career and a home in Poland and started over in Sweden in 1970. He always expected as much of himself as he did of others; from my earliest years, it was clear that nothing short of solid work would win his approval. Yet he was always there in an hour of need and never stopped looking out for us, even in the end, when he was the one in need of support. The best I can hope for is to be half as good a father as he was.