I grew up with a mother who had a very high pain threshold. She thought childbirth pain vastly overrated. So, that informed my view of pain. In the past, I used to get laughing gas and Novocaine for cavities. Of course, my mother considered me babyish for this amongst other things.
Some years ago, I started having major issues with my teeth. In fact, I attribute dental problems for unleashing this in my system. I had Vicodin. This was before the pain I am currently in. My neurologist said it was addictive. I don’t care. I do not have an addictive personality. Despite years of denying my mother’s assessment, I confess; I am a control freak. I, especially do not like anything to be in control of me – people, jobs, drinks, drugs. I would have managed it.
I also don’t prefer using medicine. It’s another thing I grew up with. We only took aspirin with real fevers. I carry that with me to this day. When this journey started, I rejected all talk of drugs. As things progressed, I broke down. I now take Ampyra, Baclofen and Ocrevus along with high dose Biotin.
I read Megan Llewellyn’s journey with MMJ and was encouraged. People began to talk about it in a more public space. People also began to personally suggest I start smoking. I saw people online walk again.
Let’s tackle actual cigarette smoking, first. I always thought it most unattractive and senseless. When I was about 10, I told my at-the-time smoker parents that I thought it was stupid. This was in the day when there were still cigarette ads and commercials.
I became older and thought it nasty and smelly as well as ugly looking. All that being said, I found myself from my junior year university finals puffing away during that period. Only at finals. However, my senior finals were stressful. By this time, my parents had stopped smoking. The first week I was home, I found myself blowing smoke outside the bathroom window. The control freak emerged. How could I be smoking like this after only three weeks? I am my mother’s child and stopped. She decided one day to stop smoking and she did. After college, the next time I smoked was when I was losing a beloved job. I had a corner office on a high floor of the Empire State building. It was back in the days with ashtrays and windows that opened. I used to have my assistant go downstairs and buy me a pack of Eves. I remember one of the sales managers coming into my office and saying it smelt of smoke but you don’t smoke. I lost the job and stopped.
Alright, next, actual marijuana and hashish. Okay, I am a child of the 70’s. The first thing that stopped me was (see above) smoking is ugly. By the way, so is snorting cocaine. In the town and era I grew up in, alcohol was considered better than weed. Parents had no problems if you were drunk but stoned? It was around me but not for me. At college, many of the pre-meds stayed away due to med school. I had a truly horrific sophomore year which culminated in academic disaster. I returned for my junior year with enormous tension and stress. My college boyfriend prescribed pot. On one of the better days of my sophomore year, one of my roommates decided to see what pot was all about. We enlisted the help of two guys who are now nuclear physicists. She is also a prominent doctor. We smoked somehow and became really, really high though we didn’t know it. It was one of those spicy, inviting spring evenings and we gadded over to her boyfriend’s fraternity house. He has had fairly prominent political and legal roles, including judicial. See, I have always known I am the least successful member of my college class. Anyhow, the two of us stood in the street bellowing for him to comedown. Wisely, he didn’t. So, it’s the start of junior year. I still hate smoking especially in front of the opposite sex. My boyfriend (significant legal position) eventually brings a hookah. The bong did not work for me. Two – three weeks in, Miss Control Freak surfaced again and determined to need something everyday was not in her best interests. After that, only if I drank. If I drank and smoked on a Saturday, you could scrape me off the ceiling on Wednesday. My last bout for years occurred during senior week festivities when I locked myself in (name dropper) a guy who became a local broadcaster’s closet. I have successfully avoided him for years. Thereafter, once a decade ending on Good Friday, 1994.
Before I certified, someone gave me caramel gummi bears with CBD/THC. I have to channel my father who always said you never knew what you were going to get. They were uneven. They definitely relaxed and calmed me. They satisfied my sweet tooth after dinner. My muscles were looser. Sometimes, I would get higher than other times. Control!
Someone else provided me with actual weed . I coughed, my chest burned and I aced the stairstepper.
We were told about a CBD/MMJ Exposition east of us. Well, it was in an industrial area. Definitely, stoners. Not only was I the oldest, but the lamest, However, I felt like fresh meat. They didn’t want me to leave. And no, I wasn’t going to put CBD oil on my tongue for the hour drive home.
I met someone at my father-in-law’s funeral. She told me that the legal MMJ was expensive and you couldn’t get high. Uh, see above. Not my interest!
I am of Jamaican ancestry. Marijuana is herb aka ganja. It is definitely medicinal, if not religious. I like the idea of using herb instead of pharmaceuticals.
I went to my primary. He certifies you for $200 cash. Clueless, it’s just about the money. He wrote me a fairly open ended prescription – no monthly limit, no specific kind.
In New York , there is no weed, edibles or lotions. Options are: pills, vaping and sublingual oil. Guess what I chose? Well, not vaping. I chose the sublingual 50/50 CBD/THC oil to start. It’s cash only. For me, this means over $100 a month. It did numb my pain. I am mildly less tense. The first month I was taking it 3-4 times a day.
Last month, I decided to up the THC and went to 75THC/25CBD oil. This I decided to use maybe once a day. I was warned about the side effects – sleepy and munchy. NOT. I get a little thirsty. I haven’t noticed a discernable difference between the two .
My husband gives it to me from a dropper. I feel like a baby bird, opening my mouth for nourishment.
I take Baclofen and recently my dosage was increased. I started with an extra pill at night, no effect. One night I took the higher THC. I just about passed out during one of my favorite programs. My husband, “That’s it! No more THC for you!” We figured out the next day that it was the Baclofen combo.
I was gifted with the real deal. It relaxes me but I hate smoking and feeling high.
What did I expect? I wanted increased flexibility, energy and stamina. So far, it’s not working.
What has been your experience?