From Rope to Dope to Hope

Back in 1991, I worked for The NYU School of Medicine, and one of the employee benefits was free college at the NYU School of Continuing Education.  I took classes in Marketing, Computing, Sociology, Mathematics, Critical Thinking, and Creative Writing.  I recently found some essays I wrote for the Creative Writing course.  One was called From Rope to Dope to Hope, and it was about the medical reasons for legalizing marijuana.  In the war on drugs, I’ve been a foot soldier on the side of drugs since 1969.

In the past decade, many states have legalized medical marijuana.  Some have even legalized recreational use.  It’s still illegal at the Federal level, so we haven’t won the war yet, but we have won most of the battles, and it was time for me to take the next step.  I asked my doctor if there was any way that he could prescribe marijuana for my hip pain.  He looked at me and shook his head.  Then, instead of laughing at me, he calmly explained how he worked for the Veteran’s Administration and the V.A. is part of the Federal government, and therefore subject to the Federal Laws of the United States.  In other words, NO, a HARD NO.  I could tell that he wanted to ask me if I was high when I even asked him that question.

Recently, I was conversing with a neighbor, and since he’s an old man too, the conversation got around to comparing aches and pains.  I said that I couldn’t get medical marijuana because my doctor worked for the Federal Government.  Then, instead of laughing at me, he calmly pulled out his wallet, showed me his marijuana license and explained that all I had to do was pick up the phone.  He, too, wondered if I must be high, because I didn’t know that.

Can I do it online?

Sure.

How?

Just type in “Legal Marijuana.”

Really?

Yeah.

Damn.  I knew we won the war on drugs, but I didn’t realize that everyone else was already at the victory party.  But, then again, in my defense, I was stoned most of the time. I went on my computer and typed in “Legal Marijuana.”  The floodgates opened.  The party wasn’t just going on.  It was going strongly.

I chose one of the thousands of websites.  They outlined the process and gave me online forms to fill out.  They encouraged me to be truthful.  Don’t worry, they said.  They weren’t looking for ways to disqualify me.  They were as pro-marijuana as I am.  They just wanted to help me join the party.  They even included a medical checklist of about a hundred different medical conditions that would qualify me.  It reminded me of my essay for the Creative Writing course, but I started to panic when I didn’t see anything I had.  How could that be?  I take a handful of prescription drugs every day for my various ailments, but I couldn’t find anything until I got to Chronic Pain.  Ah!  My hip, my lovely aching hip.  I checked the box for Chronic Pain.

Then I gave my credit card information and paid the $99 fee.  There were just two steps to go.  I had to make a doctor’s appointment and apply to Pennsylvania for an Adult Marijuana Patient certification, which costs $50.

I was disappointed.  This wasn’t as simple as I thought. I had to make a doctor’s appointment, go to the doctor’s office, blah blah blah…and then the screen changed.  My disappointment disappeared as an appointment appeared.  PICK AN APPOINTMENT TIME.  There were checkboxes for 15-minute online sessions starting with one that began in just a few minutes.  I checked that one, and a zoom-style window opened up.  “Dr. Atik will be with you soon.”  A few minutes later the doctor came on. We had video problems, but we could hear each other.  Four questions and five minutes later, the screen changed.  YOU’RE APPROVED.  Now, I just needed to get my State Certificate, and I clicked that link.

I filled out the online form, and then they asked me if I qualified for a discount, and they listed all the conditions that would qualify me for a discount.  I saw the food stamp program, which I started this year, and I clicked that one.  The screen changed.   

YOU’RE APPROVED AND THE $50 FEE IS WAIVED.

Does it get any better than this? Nice country, we live in.

I e-mailed my Certification # back to the original company, and they told me that my Medical Marijuana Certification would be mailed to me.  So, my next step was to locate a dispensary.  The Google map made it look like there were as many marijuana dispensaries in Pennsylvania as there were trees in the rainforest. Within seconds, I found two dispensaries within a block of the bus station.

I served my time fighting against the War against drugs, and soon I’ll join the victory party.  I’m just waiting for the mailman. 

Peace & Love and all of the above,

Earl