Dusty
by on March 14, 2020
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The thing that leads a person to cannabis is different for everyone. For some it's a friend of a friend with a nug and a chillum. For others it's a choice between weed and adderall from that weird guy in the college dorm. The choice to continue use of cannabis is also personal. Some use a one-hitter before family dinner at Thanksgiving. Others use it to quit heroin. Some, like myself, use it to manage pain.

Weed was presented to me by my now-wife's younger brother. If I remember correctly the conversation was simply "You gotta fuckin chill, you ever had a joint?" Went went into his bedroom, opened the window and played fighting games. After some time my now-Mother in Law knocked on the door. To this day we laugh about it because she asked "You're not smoking that wacky weed are you?" We laughed and told her "no" but went on smoking anyway because she was kinda clueless and smoked so many cigarettes we were shocked she could smell the weed at all. At the time I was not aware of how badly my chronic pain was. I broke my spine at 13 and had lived with that pain for about 6 years, growing through puberty and (unbeknownst to myself) endometriosis. That fist high wasn't anything super special, not particularly memorable on a pretty boring weekday night.

 

What truly made an impact for me is how relaxed my body felt for the first time in years. I had been to Physical Therapy multiple times but was told that, because it took two weeks to diagnose, surgery wouldn't help me. The multiple physicians and doctors I was taken too simply said "It's a miracle you're walking. Have a good day!" While I did break my all of the bones from my L5-Coccyx vertically splitting them, no nerve damage was done during the break and the bones had already been healing (incorrectly) for two weeks. The result was my entire life being in agonizing pain.

 

Before I qualified for my Medical Card in Massachusetts, I earned my associates degree in Education, got married and started planning my future and children. I worked all over the place in many different sectors and I can honestly say; nothing has made me as happy as the love of my family, and the pain relief that cannabis supplies me. I was also at the mercy of a somewhat clueless dealer. Before meeting us he didn't know the difference between Indica and Sativa other than leaf shape. It boggled my mind. It seemed like common stoner knowledge but I still meet stoners to this day(2020) who don't realize the variety of highs this wonderful plant can supply.

 

Qualifying for my card is a hilarious story. I needed proof of Physical Therapy in Massachusetts in order to receive a sign off from my doctor that I have "serious, life-impacting pain." I made my appointment, not looking at my calendar, for immediately after my first PT in MA. As I happily walked along (using my cane) on the most flat road in Worcester, I entered an insanely packed office. The Canna Care Docs office was overflowing with people and only one doctor to talk to. Because I was not a walk in patient I saw the doctor precisely on time. I naively asked "Wow, are you always this busy?" He replied, with a small smile on his kind elderly face "I only see patients on Thursdays and today happens to be 4/20" He then outright laugh and hearty welcoming chuckle. I laughed too, a little embarrassed. All of the sudden I felt like I wasn't a serious patient, as if making my appointment on 4/20 made me a lesser person. I reassured him that my pain was real, I had the old x-rays and the new showing the damage an untreated broken spine does.

 

He told me what everyone else does "You're lucky to be walking" and "your hip is twisted the wrong way" and "you must be in pain." But he asked me other things. "Does your pain cause you to loose sleep?"

 

"Yes, doctor. All the time. I can't sleep on my hips because they both hurt all the time. I'm never comfortable in bed and half the time I have horrific nightmares of my childhood."

"Of breaking you spine?" He asked gently, leaning forward and for the first time seeing my hand-made cane. "No" I said quietly. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and bowed my head, looking at him from above the frames of my glasses "I was molested as a child." His eyes didn't widen in shock and he didn't gasp. I wasn't the only woman there getting a medical card for undiagnosed PTSD, and I wasn't the only woman starting my healing journey years after denial. This older doctor was certainly sympathetic and asked that I only make an appointment to see a therapist. He handed me off to the secretary who explained the paperwork and registration process, then she sent me on my way.

I felt light as a feather.

To my dismay, there no dispensaries within 45 minutes of where I lived, I didn't own a car. So I kept buying from my weed guy until more dispensaries opened up in my area.

 

 

Over these past few years, however, I have been happily buying from Curaleaf. I have had the pleasure of being able to sample many different strains from Green Gold Group as well. I havn't visited any other dispensaries but I plan to. I also know a chemical compound of CBG-A and THC-A with far less D9THC suits my needs. It creates a mellow high in my body allowing me to work, create, raise my child, do chores etc. But it does not stop my debilitating panic attacks. I am still working on those every day.

 

 

Thank you for reading. Please share with your friends and follow my on my Instagram Page.

<3 Dusty <3

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