Educated Stoner – Evangelizing Cannabis: Praise the Lord & Pass the Pipe!

A continuation of the Educated Stoner series by freelance journalist, producer and cannabis advocate, Sharon Letts. We encourage our readers to check out more from sharonletts.com as she documents her experience with cannabis from beating cancer to remedy recipes, essays and books to video and podcast interviews, and much more. Twitter: @SharonLetts

The past five years I’ve covered six states, three countries, and thousands of miles in a state of Divine Intervention, with people suffering from real illness put in front of me like little animals to St. Francis of Assisi. I often feel like Theresa Caputo, “The Long Island Medium” (less the hair and nails). Spirits come to her like patients are put in front of me, daily. Either I meet people with real illness, or they know someone suffering under traditional care – there are no coincidences – or, maybe everyone is just getting sicker? When I tell people Rick Simpson Oil, or RSO, put my breast cancer into remission, most don’t believe it. But, when sitting on this kind of knowledge it becomes a responsibility to share. It’s actually the only way to get the word out, for no Department of Health Services will be passing out pamphlets any time soon. Those who know must “be the pamphlet.”

Physician Heal Thyself

While travelling in Eastern Washington State my lower back went out, leaving me helpless with severe spasms in my sciatica. Anyone who has suffered from the pain of sciatic spasms knows what I’m talking about. The second the swollen muscle or tendon presses a nerve against a bone, the pain is excruciating and can level a grown man in a second. Out of real medicine, a visit to Urgent Care disappointed, as the Doctor was a cold fish about my Cannabis use for pain, only offering opioids or a steroid injection. Even then she could not promise the spasms would be gone. Cannabis makes them go away, I informed, but she wouldn’t engage. I finally asked if the clinic was federally funded.

To this she gave a knowing and firm, “Yes”. She couldn’t have talked about this good medicine if she wanted to. The nurse listened attentively, however, and confided in me when the doctor was out of ear shot that she was suffering from spasms in her legs, and how could she get some of this medicine? She shared this with me as she stood (all day) at a computer taking down patient information. My heart sank to hear her situation, and I shared what I could. She not only “liked” my fan page on Facebook, she read an essay I penned on pain management and sent me a note of thanks.

All Aboard the Wellness Train!

On a train recently, the conductor announced if anyone on board had nausea medicine. Now, the ramifications of me helping someone with Cannabis are great. Firstly, I’m not a doctor; I’m merely an enlightened Cannabis patient. Secondly – well, there are enough reasons why I shouldn’t help, but my mom is looking down on me from Heaven, this is God’s medicine, and she didn’t raise someone who sits on their hands. No matter the consequences, I adjusted my proverbial Florence Nightingale hat, put my faith on the rule of the rail’s “right of way,” and headed down to the car in question with my little bottle of Nternal Oil, a light oil made in the Bay Area of California, with very little psychoactive properties due to the low heat process used. There sat one very sickly passenger and all eyes were on me as I announced, “I have medicine that works great for nausea, but it’s made from Cannabis.”

To this, I get the usual blank stares, and I must use the dreaded word, “Are you familiar with Marijuana?” (You know, I really wanted to say “The Marijuana.”) To this, her eyes light up, knowingly, and I ask if she has a teaspoon. The looks on the faces surrounding this woman are priceless as she takes the dose. She thanks me and I wish her well, making my way back to my seat. Checking on her two hours later, she is found chatting it up with the woman next to her, a drink in one hand and food in the other. “How are you feeling?” I inquire, already knowing the answer.  To which she replies with eyebrows raised, “I’m feeling better,” as if surprised at the outcome.

No Coincidences

Stories are all around me. Sitting in the waiting room at a local lab in Humboldt County, California where I live, a woman next to me explains how her 45 year old daughter is getting an MRI done for a brain tumor. The woman was confined to a wheel chair with multiple health issues, including chronic pain, depression, and PTSD for a past trauma. Her daily prescription cocktail consisted of more than 20 pharmaceuticals and for the most part she was bedridden on a daily basis. One thing led to another and I informed of my work and my own healing with the plant. Both the woman and her mother were Cannabis patients, only smoking to relieve symptoms and complications from numerous prescription meds, as is the norm, but bud is expensive and they couldn’t always medicate as needed.

To make a long story short, within weeks I was able to introduce them to a local dispensary for its “Compassionate Care Program,” and today (some months later) she is out of the wheelchair, had progressed to a walker, and is now walking of her own volition. She’s also done away with more than 10 prescription meds to date.

Can I get a witness?

The minute someone is educated on this plant, lives are changed. And I don’t say that lightly. While the psychoactive properties of the plant can be challenging, lower percentage strains are being hybridized and grown everyday now, with real medicine being made with lesser or non-psychoactive effects. Safe access is crucial in getting the medicine to the masses in legal and medicinally legal states, but even the best dispensaries need to know about ingesting and provide many options for many ailments. Once someone knows the benefits of this plant, they are compelled to share. All we have are our words.

These are mine: The Lord as my witness, I will Evangelize Cannabis until the last non-violent, failed Drug War patient is released. I will sing this truth to the heavens until God smiles down upon me with thanks for praising his good work. Though I may be called a conspiracy theorist, I will walk through the valley of Cannabis and know that it is good. Amen.

Educated Stoner – High Art: Cannabis & Muse

A continuation of the work of freelance journalist, producer and cannabis advocate, Sharon Letts.  We encourage our readers to check out more from sharonletts.com as she documents her experience with cannabis from beating cancer to remedy recipes, essays and books to video and podcast interviews, and much more. Twitter: @SharonLetts

When I became pregnant with my daughter at 29, I sadly left the herb behind to be what I thought was a responsible and upstanding single mom. At 13, my daughter was diagnosis with Fibromyalgia, an auto-immune system malady causing chronic pain and other debilitating complications. By 16, she couldn’t attend school, couldn’t play softball or do any of the physical activities she loved. When she was 16, a friend acquired a small bag of weed off the black market for her to try, stating it would help ease the pain. I rolled a joint for the first time in years and we sat in the garden, puffing and passing. She didn’t like the euphoric feeling from the THC and that afternoon we spent a full three hours thrift shopping until the effects wore off. So, there I was with this little bag of green. What to do? I was sorry I couldn’t help my daughter, but after all those years of abstinence it made me feel just as good as it did years prior. I decided to forget about the stigma, created a workshop in the garage and let the muse in.

An earlier diagnosis of Thyroid Disease had me 50 pounds overweight, and smoking soon found me walking my neighborhood with a camera, bringing home broken bits of things, becoming an assemblage artists in the process. Cannabis speeds up metabolism and in a matter of weeks I was dropping pounds. You’d think I would have gained more weight by smoking, but contrary to popular marijuana myth, the plant actually got me up off the couch and out into the world again. I started smoking again in spring and by summertime I had stopped watching television, lost the 50 pounds, gained some muscle back, pitched a tent in the garden and slept out under the stars until the rains came in the fall. Yes, my muse was fully activated. I loved smoking again! What fun, what pleasure! I could check into my little workshop, take a few hits and create to my heart’s content. My day job of writing for television prospered, as well, as I excelled creatively and professionally. Yes, everything I’ve ever written has been done fully medicated – be it for television, dailies, weeklies, or magazines.

It’s how I connect with that place. I don’t know how it works and I don’t care, I’m just grateful. My newfound health had me yearning for a different life and soon my daughter and I made the move to Northern California and Humboldt County, where she enrolled in college and I began writing for newspapers. Humboldt County is synonymous with Cannabis and I slowly realized that most of my co-workers above and below the administrative line were involved somehow in the industry out of need, as Humboldt is a rural area and the hunting, fishing, and lumber industries were a shadow of what they once were. Minimum wage jobs beg subsidizing, and savvy residents grow, trim, and make product to get by. And though I’ve never grown, I’ve learned the ins and outs of this region and its estimated 14 billion dollar industry. As a features writer covering human interest stories in the county, when the daily newspaper I was writing for began to lay off staff, I was the first to be let go.

But the muse persisted, and soon I began writing a series for a local weekly titled, “Behind the Curtain”, with a play on words of the “Redwood Curtain”, the protective shroud that keeps Humboldt so very rural and cozily covert. Published prior to California’s failed attempt at legalization via Proposition 19, it put a human face on the Nor Cal grow scene, detailing the ins and outs of living and working in a grow house and all that implies, as the neighborhoods of the area are changed forever supporting an indoor scene. The series also began my newfound career in writing about Cannabis as medicine, and today I write internationally on the subject, penning many stories each month for magazines profiling everything to do with good medicine. Smoking made me feel better physically, but it also helped me find my artistic center once again – and that, in turn, made me emotionally happier.

At 50, I could not have found my medicine at a better time, for that’s when the body begins to change and weaken and Cannabis acts almost as a “Fountain of Youth,” if you will. It’s a rejuvenator of the body and rights the wrongs that cause us to have myriad modern day ailments that seem to lead everyone to pain, depression, and deathful disease. And for finding one’s muse, it’s a must, with the moral of this story being, if you have found your medicine smoke-up, eat your weed,  be happy and healthy and your weed will never let you down.