Cannabis and Me: My Testimony of a Plant Christ Created

Before I go any further with my tales of volunteering at a collective garden, I thought I would write a bit of a testimonial. 

Even if readers know why I use this plant medically, sometimes even I need a refresher. When I am out of my medicine, these reasons become crystal clear.

Physicians & Pharmacists: Diagnosis & Treatment

The first diagnosis that is listed on my medical records pertaining to the use of cannabis is intractable pain caused by damaged nerves during my last pelvic reconstructive surgery (the initial injuries happened when I was an infant then complicated with motherhood & several unsuccessful surgeries).

From 2002-2009, I was prescribed Fenantyl via a Duragesic patch. Fenatnyl is an opioid pain medication that is about 75-100% stronger than morphine.
My physicians repeatedly informed me that due to my pain levels, I would never be able to live off of a morphine-strength pain medication. I am allergic to morphine. Fentanyl with vicodin and percocet was how I survived for 7 years.

During my time on opioid pain medications, I soon learned that any exertion brought nausea, as well as irritation of the initial pain. The side effects of opioids caused me to loose my teeth, and my life. I spent most of my days in a dark bedroom watching DVDs, curled up in a fetal position.

In 2008, when my daughter graduated from high school, I was barely functioning on 19 pills a day. All prescribed by the same physician. Most were for side-effects of other medications.  During the time I was on these medications I developed other physical issues. Some where profound, like the hiatal hernia I developed during a violent vomiting episode. This has left me with chronic nausea.

The other diagnosis that I use medical cannabis for also stems from the abuse I sustained as a small child by my father, then step-father.  PTSD and depression with anxiety are some of the major reasons that cannabis is my medication of choice.

I have a family history that is frightening for depression. My father and grandfather both committed suicide. My aunt and I both have had several unsuccessful attempts at the same action. Major Depressive Disorder is so much more than "the blues."

An ironic experience I have had is one of friends getting tired of my acting out during a major depressive episode and tell me to "go take a Prozac." The reason I find this ironic is that during the time I was being treated by physicians for my depression through pharmaceuticals (1982-2009), I exhausted every formulary; up to, and including ALL SSRIs (of which class Prozac is in). The only medication for depression that I have not been suicidal on, is Cannabis.

For my anxiety issues, I have been prescribed at least five different medications. Some two at a time. Couch-lock has nothing on the zombifying experience of prescription anxiety medications. At least I didn't drool much. But I was not "with-it" enough on them to live.

When a friend suggested that instead of using vicodin or percocet for my "break-through pain" that I use cannabis (or as she so eloquently put it "smoke a bowl!"), I was leery. When I suspected that it would just get me intoxicated and waste more of my life, she pointed out that my life currently consisted of being in bed 24/7, how much more could I loose? I acquiesced and tried it.

During the years I used cannabis as a supplement to my prescription medications, I began to live again.
I found that if I smoked about 2-3 hits off of a pipe or joint, I had the energy to push past the pain. Then the pain began getting less. 

The End of Prescriptions - An Alternative Presented

When I was discharged without notice from the physician prescribing the pain medications in August 2009, it was cannabis that relieved some of the symptoms of withdrawal from the Fentanyl and Percocet. It was the only reason I was able to get through the hell of withdrawals without becoming suicidal.

Months after I was off of all prescription medications, still exhibiting several symptoms of withdrawals as well as my primary issues of anxiety and depression as well as nausea and anorexia; I tried my first edible cannabis products. I was absolutely amazed at the results.

The more cannabis products that I consumed, the better I felt. I began to feel HEALTHY!
I began to be able to do so much more. I began to regain my life.

Last year, cannabis ended up leading me to become a Latter-Day Saint. I joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints when God answered my prayers with this plant. But that's another story for another time (feel free to follow my spiritual journey at SlightelyMormon.org).

In the fall of 2013, at a sister-friend's urging; I tried an experiment. I began taking a full-plant extract oil (FEO) on a daily basis. There are many names for this type of oil and many ways to process it. Some of the most common names are Rick Simpson Oil (RSO) or Phoenix Tears. My husband calls his version, without the decarboxylation step (I will post about his oil soon), "Jesus Oil."
No matter the name it goes by, it is an extract of the oils of the cannabis plant. I prefer the "full-plant" with the cannabinoids that are only found in the leaves and other non-bud parts of the plant included.

Here is a link to the best explanation I have found for the processing of small batches of this type of oil, by a dear friend, Breezy Keifair: How to Make Cannabis Oil Without Alerting the Neighbors.

As the rice-grain sized bit of oil began to be absorbed into my system, I didn't become intoxicated nor did I feel any euphoria. In fact, as the days progressed to weeks into this experiment of daily oil, I found I was feeling less euphoria from cannabis, but more happiness over-all. My body began to feel "able". My mind was clear. I could think, and I had energy. I didn't hurt and my legs worked. My brain looked towards the Gospel and furthering my fores into genealogy. I could think and feel clearly.

Thirty days into using cannabis oil daily, I felt like a new woman.

As I have experimented with the use of cannabis for my health, it has been with the guidance of my health care providers and my "cannafamily" - an intentional family of friends.

As I have learned about the cannabis plant, I have attempted to share this knowledge with others.

For seven years, prescription medications took my life away from me. Several years ago, while I was in a puddle of vomit and tears, I prayed to my Heavenly Father to save me. It is He who held the branch of the cannabis plant to me. It is He that saved me, through a plant.

Father's Day

Wow, I had no idea what I was going to write about until I wrote the title to name the document.

Fathers day.

Father's Day 2009: Broke my heart, began my awakening, changed my life forever.

I need to respect the victim. So, I will not delve in to particulars. Those who were involved know who they are. The victim does not need to be victimized any further.

It took me 3 months to get myself off of the medications that my doctors had me on that had kidnapped my mobility and my mind. 

Fentanyl 100mg, brand name Duragesic, was the primary prescription. Then there were the additional meds just for the side effects of a narcotic that was 100 times stronger than morphine. Anti-depressants, anti-nauseants, anti-constipation meds....etc.

I went off of the fenantyl cold turkey; nearly dying, due to the fact that my husband repeatedly told me that he couldn't handle his own medications long enough for me to go to rehab and do it right. When I repeated what he said to the doctors in the ER, I was viewed as a junkie making excuses.

During the 3 weeks that it took for the primary withdrawals (symptoms and pain I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy), I was in the ER 3 times. 2 times by ambulance. 

It was a facebook friend who called 911. My husband, in the other room, didn't care enough to check on me to make sure that I was alright I am not certain what was in his mind at the time, but he didn't appear interested in my well being, or what withdrawal from a medication as strong as fentanyl can be. It can very often be fatal.

I had been first prescribed Duragesic on the Fall of 2002. I had lost my job only a month before I lost my "abilities". Isn't that what "dis-abled" means? My physician informed me that during the walk that I had taken with my family at the end of August (on fairly level ground, no more than a mile or so), was enough "gravity" to pull my bladder down once again. That was supposed to explain my pain. Truth be told, the initial injuries to that part of my body were made my my father when I was only an infant.

 In the months that followed, I had another bladder surgery, but that surgery left the two major nerves that pass over my pubic bone chronically inflamed. I was in agony.

The next five years were spent MAINLY in bed, on Fentanyl (it was at 100 mcg for over 20 months, only keeping withdrawals at bay.  That medication's effectiveness against pain always diminished within 3 months of a dosage change) and Percocet.

Then I started smoking marijuana for breakthrough pain.

My husband at the time did not approve. I smoked in "our" room. My bed, which in fact, WAS my home, was where I was "allowed" to smoke. If I did it when we were out, I had to take a walk around a building and hide. Even after I became "legal" with my medical card.

After I recovered from withdrawals (this took a few months), we began moving into a larger trailer, a double wide that we had decided to purchase from our neighbors.  Neither my husband or I were in physical condition to move, even across the street, but I treasured the long nights I chose to spend painting the walls of the new house with the music loud, only to feel like I was truly alone. It was a good feeling. This scared me.

After my husband and I moved into the new house, I was still unable to find my "place" in the house, other than in my bed. I didn't want to be in bed any longer, and the more I used marijuana for my pain and depression, the better I felt. I was no longer on any other prescriptions. I physically felt better than I had in years. However, every time my husband would lay down next to me, I prayed every night that I wouldn't wake up the next morning.

After I met my best friend in early March 2010, I found that wanted to wake up the next morning. When I discovered that feeling, it shocked me. Had I REALLY given up on life for that many months?! 

I remember walking away, leaving my husband, the day after Father's Day 2009. He txt'd me that he was having chest pains, so I returned. I never returned emotionally. On March 20, 2010, I finally left physically. It was the first day of the rest of my life.

I have never looked back since. Not to that man, that life, or that house. I left everything behind. He did what any hurt man would do - he attempted to hurt me with my "stuff," so I chose to let ALL my stuff go. That has been very difficult. 


My challenges I have made public, I know no other way to be. I seek to share my trials in the hopes that others will know they are not alone. Alone is a very sad feeling. Love and Light to all.

Today IS the First Day of the Rest of my Life

Today IS the first day of my life. My NEW life. 

I began by yesterday starting to treat my body with MMS. It promises to clean out the toxins and infections in my body. I can feel it working it's magic... laugh... now with Gramma Maggic, I keep wanting to spell magic with 2 "g"s.... I digress.... 

ANYway..... I have been told that I write the way that I talk; so for now, that's how my blogs are written.

I decided today that most of my "in depth" observations on life will be made here, rather than Facebook. If people WANT to read it, they will know where to go. 

That being said; I am also going to delete my GmaMaggic account tomorrow. Anyone who wants to stay friends can friend Maggie... ME. 

With that announcement, I was shocked to feel the OUTPOURING of support for me! Nice. Felt wonderful!!!

The MMS is doing its job: the runs are weird... they don't burn like I am used to... I am SO looking forward to getting ALL of the crud out of my body. I even felt like fasting... weird because I don't give up food for NO ONE or NOTHING! Laugh... okay... maybe I do...

I decided before I got here that I would not use cannabis while I was here. Strangely enough, I am out. Good timing (yes that part was planned... lol). 

I didn't decide on the fasting until the nausea got the best of me.... laugh... but it's all part of the process.... 

I want to start anew. I want to be cleansed, revitalized... that is what this treatment is doing for the inside of my body. I am looking forward to Kalina working on the outside, so perhaps some of the pain can be controlled once and for all. 

I am looking forward to SO MANY THINGS in the next few months:  Cleansing, refreshing, manatees, the race... and my kids' birthdays, my divorce being final... Georgia... THEN DC on April 20. 

After April 20, I will head out on the road on 2 wheels. From that... who knows. 

I will allow my Creator and our Universe to guide me on my path

Gramma Maggie 420

Since this journey has begun, it is time to create a space for just the journey.

This is it.

There are three seperate blogs that I will  be keeping. This is the one in which I will be documenting my journey to me, via the world.

This is a bit about who I am and what I am doing:

 

WHO AM I?!?

That is the question I am attempting to answer for myself during a journey around the country and world.

During this journey, I am hoping to visit anyone who is open to it. This can include my relatives, both those I know well and those whom I have yet to meet.

It also will include my “Pot Farm” friends from facebook.

I am also looking forward to visiting many of my friends who have moved to distant locals.

I know this much about myself:

I have the sense of humor of a 14 year old boy, and no “filter” between my brain and my mouth.

I am the mother of 3 children. I became a mom at the age of 17 after being told at age 15 that I wouldn’t be able to have children. I was married for 21 years to the father of my daughter, who is now 20. My sons are 26 and 24.

I am the grandma of 3 (identical twin girls who are 2 & a grandson who was born 10 days before my 40^th birthday who is now 4).

I am a biker. I grabbed a hold of the throttle after riding bitch for over 30 years with anyone who would let me. I won’t bitch again if I have the opportunity to ride. However, if that isn’t an option, I would always rather bitch, than cage.

I am  a writer and a survivor.

I am retired disabled with a “hidden” disability.

I am also a medical cannabis advocate. My only source of pain control at this time is cannabis. Just for reference, my pain level upon waking ranges from about a 5.8 (on GREAT days) to 8.5 on bad days. It averages 7.4 daily.

My disability: I experience chronic nerve pain in my pubic area, chronic pelvic pain &  a bladder condition called “interstitial cystitis”. I was prescribed Fentanyl (100x stronger than morphine) for over 7 years. I was informed by my physicians that I would never be able to completely cease using that particular pain medication or one similar.

Then, on my own,  I stopped it cold turkey in August of 2009.

In December of 2009, I was confronted by my own body failing me.. I began to loose my upper left peripheral vision. Then, it worsened in Spring of 2010, when my doctors informed me that I couldn’t have the tests that were my only hope of discovering the root of this illness taking my vision and the sensation on my left side, due to the implant that I have to control the interstitial cystitis. 

When I learned that I was loosing my vision, I decided that I needed to see more than just Washington State, where I have spent most of my life, save for living 9 months in Las Vegas in 1992. I have never visited most of the states in my own country. I have visited very little of Canada (a few day visits to Vancouver and Victoria, BC) and I have been in Mexico once as a teen for a few hours.

Last spring, after 21 years of marriage, I left my husband with only the clothes on my back.

Both God as well as the universe, have been attempting to make me aware that material things shouldn’t matter to me.

In 2005, the house I raised my children in was foreclosed upon while I was awaiting Social Security’s decision on my disability. 

Shortly thereafter, my husband failed to make the payment on our storage unit, and we lost all of our material memories save for a few photos we had been able to keep with us.

When I left my husband, he decided that I only deserved the possessions that he chose.

He even took possession of the pet house rabbit that I had purchased while I was separated from him in 2005.

A few weeks after I left, my ex had the Harley Low Rider that I had paid the majority of, and been the only person to ride for many months, repossessed.

He has the car, the house, the pet, the remaining bike, and all the items that he decided that he didn’t want.

I now have nothing to tie me down. Homeless by choice.

My children are grown, my grandchildren have excellent parents and are in great hands.

All I do is feel pain in my hometown. I have pretty much never seen anything except my home state save for a few short trips to neighboring areas.

Before I loose my vision; I want to see everything I can. I want to learn about other people in other areas, I want to see this beautiful world. I want to hear music from all around the world, beginning with different regions of the US.

I am doing this on the smallest of budgets. As I said, I have nothing. I do have a warm sleeping bag, some clothing and personal objects I require to live, and continue to document this journey around the world, as well as the journey into myself.

If I was to be honest about what this is, it is a journey to me, through exploring the world around me. 

Perhaps “Herriot the Spy” grows up and looks at the world around here, not just the people. I will be writing my life story, as well as a book about the people that I meet through the game “Pot Farm” on FaceBook.

I will be logging my travels as I visit my “Pot Farm” friends around the country, then hopefully around the world.

I welcome any and all feedback. Even though I may go through days and perhaps weeks, without posting much; please be patient, I may not have internet access or limited access for extended periods of time. I will continue to write even if it may have to be transcribed when I am able to return.

I am very much a hippie and I am trusting God and my inner intuition to guide me. I am only following my “gut instincts” to lead me where I need to go.

The current tentative plans are as such:

• My birthday (October 19^th), will be spent in the LA, California area with friends I most literally haven’t seen in 30 years. I hope also to meet and visit any “Pot Farm” friends in the southern Cali area during that time frame.
•  
• After I leave the LA area, I am being pulled towards the Bay area, as much of my family history is based in that are.
•  
•             Possibly after the Bay area: Eastern Oregon, Spokane, WA…. Then?????
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• On Christmas:  I will be in Utah with my wonderful friend who I refer to as my wife.
•  
• January: I hope to be in Florida visiting friends who have relocated to that area, as well as new friends I have acquired through “Pot Farm.”

ALL of these plans are completely fluid, tentative and conditional upon only my gut feelings.

At any point, I may be forced to return in order to assist my family.

For now, I am following God, my heart, my instincts… or just my crazy brain.