Touching story! Please read

[Bass3rd]

Hello! My name is Joshua. I live with my Mom and Dad and my older brother Jeremy . My Motherâ??s name is Shirley and she has problems getting around. She is in pain much of the time and she has to see a Doctor all the time to get medication for pills to stop her pain and make her feel better. You see, my Mom was born with Congenital-Hip-Dislocation in both hips and has had surgery more than 20 years ago to put in artificial hips on both sides. She also had her back broken and now has rods holding up her spine more than 30 years ago. . Sheâ??s always in pain and she hides it really well. On some of her bad days she just feel like laying down all day, on her good days she has to take it easy and not do anything to hurt herself anymore than she is. My Mother has not been able to do many things with me and Jeremy when we were growing up. She wasnâ??t able to take us to the park to play on the slides or to go to the beach on nice hot days. Sometimes she was too much in pain to take us to the movies because it meant sitting in the theater too long. She could not bend down to hug or kiss us goodnight when she tucked us into bed. We missed out on a lot of things because of Mommyâ??s condition.
Sometimes when I was at a younger age, in the evenings I would smell this strong odor in the house. My Mom would smoke cigarettes but never had I smelled anything like it. I asked her what the smell was and she told me it was a â??special gigarettes to help her get rid of some pain and help her sleep at night. I asked Jeremy about it but he told me Mommy was a pothead and she was only smoking the â??weedâ?� just to get high and to help her relax after a hard day of taking care of us.
My Dadâ??s name is Paul, he is a very good Father to Jeremy and I. He did a lot of things with us because Mom couldnâ??t go with us. Heâ??s a very nice guy. he liked to play jokes on people and give his funny views about politics and life in general. Her was a really open minded individual. A non drinker . He used to be a big man and once weighed 310 lbs in the early 2000â??s. The in the 2004 he went and lost 100 lbs. He looked better and was getting himself in good health after all these years of being overweight. I had never seen Dad smoke any of Momâ??s â??special cigarettesâ?� Then one evening I could smell the usual odor of â??potâ?� in the house. I got up and saw my Father holding a joint and he then told me that he started smoking the Marijuana just like mother was using it for. He said he was diagnosed with esophageal cancer 2 months ago. He has a cancerous tumour that blocks one third of his esophagus and makes it very hard to swallow food and and drink any liquids. We have seen him look ill the last few weeks and he has lost more weight, another 20 lbs and not well looking.. He started with chemo treatments 2 weeks ago and starts for many treatments of radiation all for 9 weeks. Then after these awful treatments are finished with he has to undergo surgery to remove the tumour. Maybe a piece of his small stomach also will have to be removed.
The weight that he lost is because he lost his appetite, he looks at food and feels nauseated. He goes on for a couple of days feeling tired, drained and dehydrated from not eating or drinking all day. He has that bored look on his face and is not very talkative, and thatâ??s not like the Dad I know.
In the evenings both of my parents light up a joint and start being more talkative about their day. I hear a lot of laughing between them. My Dad is back to his old self again, Mom has a smile on her face because she enjoys the company of Dad and forgets about her pain. They both head off to bed. They hate waking up the next morning not knowing what pain theyâ??ll wake up with today.
When my father has smoked a â??joint heâ??s enjoyable to be around, he has no pain, his appetite picks up, he had a small bowl of spaghetti with a bit of butter to eat tonite. This is the first food heâ??s put down in 3 days. Itâ??s not a lot but at least itâ??s something, he still gets hunger pain and wants to eat more, but his stomach will not allow it. His belly will feel uncomfortable for a few days.
During the day he spends it sitting outside till it gets too hot, comes in the house and crashes on the couch , watches tv or goes on the web for a bit at a time, then spends the rest of afternoon napping in the bedroom. He looks like heâ??s lost all energy. Doesnâ??t want to go see his friends with Mom. He just now wants to stay at home. Mom and Jeremy donâ??t like to see him this way.
He goes to the doctor every week and sees 4 different of them for his illness. He keeps telling them how rotten his week has been and when he tells him he would rather smoke a â?? special cigaretteâ??, It gets rid of his pain, he eats a little bit better, it keeps his mind seperated from his problems. But the doctors are reluctant in signing for him to have a legal medical marijuana license allowing him to smoke the cannabis. They say thatâ??s what makes him so tired the next day and he has to stop smoking it because of that. He has to keep his immune syatem up .He has to stay on medication that they prescribe, for nausea, diahrrea, vomiting headaches, name it and heâ??s got it. But they still refuse to stick their neck out.
Both Jeremy and I are OK with this situation. Itâ??s nice to see Mom and Dad smiling again, no one complains about anything, just the 2 of them/
This has changed my views a whole lot about this Medicinal Marijuana, say what you want about it, but if it wasnâ??t for the little bit of â??weedâ?� both my parents smoke and can make them feel good about my them selves, there would be hardly any life in our house. Itâ??s not fun living in a home where you have to deal with this day after day.
They smoke only one joint every evening, they are not heavy pot users. Thatâ??s all they can afford. I wish they could afford a bit more so they could get by the day as well as they do after 7.00pm. My Mom is already on a disability pension because of her condition, and she took a fall one year ago, she ended up breaking a ball in the right hip and underwent surgery the last week of March 2010. My Dad cannot give Mom the care and support she needs because of his own issues heâ??s dealing with right now. And because of it heâ??s been off work this year and they are both struggling big time this year. Itâ??s nearly a financial disaster. I do what I can to help, I do school and do part time work, give them a few bucks towards expenses. I just wish I has more to give them. Jeremy has moved out of town to college and he canâ??t afford much either. This way my parents could get a bit more medication for the day.
To experience what my Mom was talking about , I have tried her â??special cigarettesâ?� twice in 3 years, I didnâ??t mind it, but Iâ??ll pass. But in my parentâ??s case, let them smoke it, sign their license. Iâ??m sure Mom could get one for her pain, her arthritis. Itâ??s on a plant for Gawdâ??s sakes.
I,ve been all over the web searching at all the negatives and there are many, but if the person taking it feels like it gives him or her relief and relaxation and make their lives pain free, then why make it a problem?? Legalize it, stop the nonsense.
Nothing against any people in this forum with cancer, I mean no disrespect towards the medical establishment treating you. They are doing their best with good results coming up with a cure for this terrible disease . I am not sure if you know of any doctors who has to take this kind of abuse every day my Dad is going through right now, the side effects a side effect pill will give you. But theyâ??re doing their jobs and I will never take that away from them.
In my eyes â??potâ?� works, maybe not for the abusers, but take it reasonably and stay in full control of yourself is the key my father said. I hope my dad comes out of this with flying colours, heâ??s a tuff old man, but Iâ??ve talked with Mom and Jeremy about this and we are praying real hard for this to have a positive side and if there isnâ??t, well at least he will have gone with a smile on his face and suffered the way he wanted to.
Thanks for reading, any questions then please send them to [email protected]

Bass3rd Reviewed by Bass3rd on 06-08-2010. Touching story! Please read Hello! My name is Joshua. I live with my Mom and Dad and my older brother Jeremy . My Motherâ??s name is Shirley and she has problems getting around. She is in pain much of the time and she has to see a Doctor all the time to get medication for pills to stop her pain and make her feel better. You see, my Mom was born with Congenital-Hip-Dislocation in both hips and has had surgery more than 20 years ago to put in artificial hips on both sides. She also had her back broken and now has rods Rating: 5

[CovertCarpenter]

...if I may share one of my own. Names have been omitted to protect the anonymity of both living and deceased.

A Few Years Ago, my aunt was diagnosed with some type of cancer. I cannot remember the type of cancer that she was stricken by, though I remember that she was battling with it for something like seven or eight years.

Her doctors, and I use the term here with some contempt, initially put her through some of the most insanely painful shite that humans have devised in the name of 'treatment', and she was Not Doing Well, though keeping a brave face on.

Her treatments for pain went through the usual pharmacopaea, ending up, of course, with various flavours of the opiates, and 'really really ending' with Morphine. Lots of Morphine. As muuuuch morphine as you want, for free. REally.

This basically destroyed any quality of life she was capable of enjoying.

I'm not sure who in her life suggested it, but at some point in this insanity, someone suggested cannabis instead of 'Big M', and she was desperate enough to try anything.

She found it worked for her as well or better than the morphine, and did not destroy her quality of life. She quickly progressed to what one would refer in the vernacular as a 'chronic' level of tolerance, something her teenaged children taunted her gently over, but she nevertheless had a pretty good last-five-years or so, and was active up till the very end.

What made everyone in the family quietly furious with the system was that she basically had to pretend to take the firking morphine, and her husband, my uncle, had to buy her preferred pain medication 'off some guy in a bar', as there was nothing resembling 'medical MJ' in Canada at the time, and the holy-jihad War On Drugs was jus' getting into full swing. People who smoked pot were 'druggies' or 'potheads', or, worse, might be deeeeallllerssss...

My uncle's unfortunate choice of pain medication for supressing the pain of watching his wife die before his eyes, slowly, was to take two quarts of whisky. Per day. I am not joking. One-in-the-mornin' and one-in-the-evenin'. He is the ONLY person that I have ever known who qualified as an alcoholic by any definition of the word who was NOT AN ASSHOLE. He really just used it to dull his pain, so he could get through his own life, being a productive and precise tradesman. I personally watched him do various and sundry tasks around his own and our house, and his workmanship was impeccable.

He really should have given his wife's medication-of-choice a try, but for him it was absolutely taboo.

I don't think he drinks anymore, thank God.

I don't ever go through a day without thanking God for my own preferred pain medication. Please understand that I smoke in a day what the average 'abuser' takes maybe four days to a week to go through, and I'm currently not-quite-smoking as much as I'd like to, due to financial constraints. My aunt was probably smoking as much as I am, right now, maybe a bit more.

Neither my aunt's, nor my pain medication were subsidised by the taxpayer in any way, and I LIKE it that way. I purchase what I need, from many different strains that are available, grown by experts, legally, and yet quietly, whilst in an open yet secure location. The transaction is honourable and pure, in the most honest of capitalistic senses. The dispensary and I both profit by the exchange, and I do not need to feel guilty for burdening my neighbour in any way for my medication in a Public Health System run amok.

May sanity someday return to the world. Please forgive me for ranting a bit.

I miss my aunt.