Trying to pick a reason why I love cannabis is like trying to pick a favorite child, I love all the reasons with my whole heart. I know without a shadow of a doubt that my quality of life would be so much worse without the benefits of this magical, medicinal plant.
“YOU ARE LUCKY TO BE ALIVE”
Those were the first words I remember hearing when I opened my eyes in the trauma unit of a Memphis hospital in the fall of 2021. I looked down at my mangled body and tried my hardest to remember the events that had gotten me in this position.
It was a hectic picture day, the pressure for parents to make sure all the collars are ironed, hairs smoothed, and faces washed was palpable at my house. My oldest was the only one in school at the time so I only had one to get ready for the big day, but one child was enough to make me frazzled and running late. I could recall driving on that long, winding country road with farms that stretched throughout the 25-minute drive to school. About halfway through the drive I glanced in my mirror at my daughter’s cherubic face, still clean. Check. Shirt still mostly wrinkle-free, check. Hair? Unfortunately, my daughter inherited my thick head of hair that seemed to attract all the static electricity in the air. I grabbed a brush from the center console and unbuckled my seatbelt to turn and hand her the brush and give her instructions that probably had something to do with the time limit we were on and the importance of looking good for school pictures. I would be showing them to her future spouse someday, after all. After the hurried instructions and passing of the brush I turned back around to come face to face with a group of 3 or 4 giant buzzards eating what appeared to be the remains of a deer that had been hit on the road. I reacted and swerved, my car going at around 60 mph. My silver sedan was over-corrected, and everything turned into a scene from a movie. The air was thick and heavy and the silence deafening, things felt like they were moving in slow motion. I braced for impact, knowing that what was about to happen was going to hurt. Man was I right about that.
I woke up 2 days later, my body a tangled mess of broken bones, colorful bruises, collapsed lung, and a myriad of deep cuts and scrapes. I couldn’t move without searing pain radiating throughout my entire being. The radiologist who dictated the results from my MRIs and scans said I was a “horrific mess.” That sentiment accurately predicted how my life would be for the next 18 months.
I was sent home on the traditional regime of pharmaceuticals, a different colored pill for each malady. I started out taking 9 different medications to manage my body’s reactions to the healing process. Eventually after a lot of trial and error, tears, pleading, prayer, and suffering, that 9 grew into 10 and then eventually 12 different medications and topicals. My life had turned into a perpetual 4–6-hour alarm clock. I became hyper aware of my body’s reaction to going too long without medication. It stopped me from doing a whole lot of anything other than laying on the couch and watching the clock to make sure I didn’t skip any doses or go too long without taking something. I began to fear time. It was too hard to go anywhere with my multiple fractures all over, and I couldn’t be away from my meds for too long. I was terrified of getting stuck somewhere without the proper medicine and the debilitating effects it had on my body. The fear of the burning pain that radiated from every cell without those meds was constant.
At the forefront of my mind. It was like being held prisoner by a colorful collection of unassuming pills, they were the ones running the show, and I felt helpless trying to constantly meet their demands. But if I wanted to remain on the “right” side of the law and keep my family intact, I felt I had no other choice.
The side effects from all the medications became just as problematic as the injuries themselves. It felt like a constant game of “Is this a side effect or normal bodily function?” (Not a fun game, by the way. 1 out of 10 stars.) Most of the time the answer was a side effect. The swelling alone was causing my health to rapidly deteriorate. I was in so much pain all the time, the medications were working less and less to curb it. I was no longer making progress; I was stuck in a walking boot after almost a full year post accident. I needed surgery that I couldn’t afford and didn’t have time to heal from. My right leg had started to atrophy from having the boot on constantly. My mental health started to decline more and more as time marched on and my healing plateaued. I felt like I would never have a normal life with my children again. I was devastated when I couldn’t accompany them on our Florida vacation because walking in the sand would be almost impossible. My life was passing me by, I was watching my children become held back from doing things they loved because I was physically incapable. The guilt and depression began to eat at me, and I continued to spiral deeper into a pit of despair.
On a bleak, gray February day I had finally had enough of living in the painful prison. I was desperate for my body to heal and feel better without the exhausting ritual of medications and painful rehabilitation exercises. I made the decision that I was going to try things from the earth in place of things man had created in a lab, it was my Superbowl Hail Mary. Being the nerd and overachiever I am, I threw myself into researching the best way to go about cutting out the meds and filling their places with things I could grow myself if I wished. I was afraid to tell my doctor about my plans to cut out my medications and replace them with things like cannabis and turmeric. I had heard numerous stories of patients in similar situations to mine that were met with a ton of backlash and awful reactions from medical professionals. Some of those patients were refused medical care altogether, resulting in them having to suffer through excruciating withdrawals at home with zero help or medical attention. And for no reason other than that they were looking for something naturally occurring to treat their symptoms as opposed to the assorted medications that were manufactured In a warehouse somewhere. Some of the medications I was on were just there to treat the side effects from other medications which then began their own brand of side effects. It was a maddening cycle of chicken before the egg.
But slowly I began to taper myself off the medications one by one. The side effects subsided, I began to eat better, sleep more soundly, even my skin began to change. The inflammation began to melt away, leaving my body able to move without the searing pain I’d grown accustomed to over the last year and a half. I finally got the courage to tell my doctor about my progress and how much better I was feeling. To my great surprise, she was fully supportive of my decision. The relief I felt after learning she was on board was like being granted the ability to breathe again.
I continued with my quest to regain my medical freedom, the medications falling to the wayside one by one. I am now 2 years out from the accident, and I feel healthier than I did before that fateful day in September. I have promised myself to never let medications dictate every move I made ever again. I get stronger and more comfortable in my own body with every passing day, my mental health improving right alongside my physical. I know that pharmaceuticals play a key role in modern medicine and that there are definite needs for medications. I still get my shots and take my antibiotics, but I’m learning to look to what the earth provides to help us heal as opposed to something unnatural.
I know my story isn’t the answer for everyone, but hopefully someone will read this and some of the doubts and uneasiness of trying something different will be eased a little. I love this miraculous plant with everything in me, I feel I owe a debt to cannabis for all the things it’s given back to me. I just hope I can give back even a fraction of what I’ve been awarded. My journey is far from over, but I have more faith and hope now than I ever did staring at the clock, waiting for the next dose of brightly colored capsules. My future is so bright, and so, so green.
