MEDICAL MARIJUANA

Small Blessings

Finding refuge from relentless pain

By BEVERLY BRIDGES

As a teen, having your parents give you a serious talk about taking drugs is one thing. Giving that talk as an adult to your parents is another. What’s more, instead of guiding my folks away from drugs, I advocated for my mother to take one very specific drug: cannabis, more commonly known as marijuana. I had my reasons. My mom was riddled with arthritis, causing her spine to twist and collapse into her pelvis due to polio as a child. Combine this with a number of other ailments in someone of an advanced age and the result is pain. Lots of it.

According to the National Institutes of Health, standard operating procedure in severe medical cases like my Mom’s is for doctors to prescribe an opiate-based drug such as codeine, oxycodone, hydrocodone, and morphine.

I spent many hours taking my mom to doctors and watched as the men in white coats wrote out prescriptions as if that would solve all her problems. It didn’t. No one talks much about the possible adverse reactions of those drugs, which include drowsiness, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, constipation, and respiratory depression. You’ll find that kind of information buried in the fine print. Not everyone experiences these side effects, and for some those drugs are a godsend, but it was different for Mom.

I couldn’t stand by helplessly as her suffering increased. That’s when I began searching for complimentary pain management solutions. I found Mom a great acupuncturist but the results fell short. It was time to do a little research on medical marijuana.

In the days before California legalized marijuana for recreational use in 2016 (it had been approved for medical use in the 1990s), you needed an exam performed by a doctor who would determine if you were qualified to receive medical marijuana. The doctor issued a certificate, enabling you to purchase the cannabis from an authorized seller, licensed by the state. The whole authorization process cost about $200. But getting Mom to agree to be examined as well as imbibing marijuana might prove to be a difficult sale.

My Mom and Dad grew up in the time of “Reefer Madness,” where marijuana use was equated with evil, depraved behavior. Even my grandmother warned Mom when she was a young woman against anyone offering her “funny cigarettes.” It wasn’t until Mom had teenagers of her own that she figured out what my grandmother meant. But I digress. The point is my folks thought marijuana was as bad as heroin or crack cocaine, to be avoided at all costs if you wanted to live.

My research proved that none of the widely held myths about marijuana were accurate. The biggest fiction is that it is a gateway drug that would lead to a devastating drug addiction. My Mom was up in years and already taking low doses containing an opioid so that wasn’t so much a concern, even if the myth was true. Another myth is that marijuana would lead to violent crime. It was hard for me to imagine Mom mugging someone with her walker (maybe a person in a wheelchair?) but knowing my parents, questions would certainly arise that I would need to answer. On this point, there are numerous studies on this issue. In a 2013 review of the evidence, the Rand Corp. concluded that “marijuana use does not induce violent crime.” A family member works for Rand (but not on this study), so I had that ace in the hole.

Then there was the issue of where I would buy the medical marijuana. At the time there were limited options, but I wanted something safe with research behind it, good quality control, and an informed staff to guide me through the myriad of options. After an online search,

I chose the Cornerstone Collective in Los Angeles. If you didn’t know they sold medical marijuana, you’d drive right past it. Security was tight. An armed guard stood sentry at the locked door. Inside you needed identification and your certificate of authorization from a doctor. Only then were you buzzed into the inner sanctum where first time customers were counseled on the myriad of options available.

Another issue I faced was that even if Mom agreed to take medical marijuana, how would I get it into her system? I couldn’t imagine her smoking a joint or vaping (her lungs couldn’t handle it, and it was a bad visual, anyway) so I looked into edibles. I was amazed at the variety of offerings. There were all sorts of cookies, chocolates, mints, gummies, candies, and more. Now this had real possibilities. My mother had a sweet tooth so I knew that mints for everyday use and chocolates for special occasions would appeal to her. I steeled myself for the talk with Mom and Dad. I had literature. I had illustrations. I had websites. With all my ducks in a row, I sat them down for a serious discussion. “Mom. Dad. Come and sit down. I need to talk to you about something serious.” Their brows furrowed. Their faces flush with concern. “I think we need to add something to Mom’s pain management regime.” Then I dropped the bomb. “Medical marijuana.” I was met by silence. Mom looked to Dad. Dad looked to Mom. Then they looked at me. With a shrug they said, “Okay.”I could not believe their reaction. That’s it? I thought. After all those lectures on the evils of marijuana and suddenly it’s OK? But I realized that with time attitudes change, especially when you’re in pain. At this point in Mom’s life, it was any port in a storm and medical marijuana offered her a refuge.

Surprisingly, her doctor was all for it, but added no insight or advice. That came from the folks at Cornerstone Collective. Mom actually enjoyed trying a variety of different products before we added Breez mints that were cannabis-infused to her drug regime. They eased her pain, enabling her to sleep well for the first time in years. Best of all, she suffered no side effects.

Mom went to her final reward a year and a half ago, three weeks to the day after my Dad died. I was by both of their sides when they passed away peacefully, profoundly sad but grateful for two lives well lived. What I think is really tragic is that there are so many people suffering needlessly in states that have not legalized marijuana, even for medical use. I hope and pray that action will be taken on the federal level to remedy this travesty. But I’m thankful for small blessings, like little mints that help you sleep with no side effects.