Saw My Dox Yesterday (ramble)

(for an explanation see Dox In’a Box posted May 4)

The pre-screening nurse was a bit surprised that the person I had spoken with on the phone had requested I bring  “fresh” chart notes. I have received a recommendation from this clinic twice before. They already have medical records pertaining to my malady. I mean, if a person’s spine is hosed it’s not like they’ll wake up one morning and be all-better. Arthritis of the c-spine tends to be a progressive disease. It gets worse, not better. Luckily, I always have copies of the various reports sent to my home.

I think I’m developing some sort of social anxiety thing. At the dentist, the other day, my blood pressure was sky-high. The same thing happened at the clinic yesterday. It’s odd; I can feel it hit me. It was the same way in both waiting rooms. I feel a big rush. I can feel my blood pounding. I can feel my vein pounding against the blood pressure cup. 195 over 111. “Wow! Like, doood, yer’ gona’ pop a vessel!” I told the poor freaked out nurse that I thought I was merely wigging out from being away from my home. I was the next person to see the doc. In and out in 55 minutes. Sweet.

I’m thinking this psycho thing is a result of seldom leaving my home. I don’t drive much anymore because of the drugs – I’m a bit adverse to vehicular homicide. I often walk over to the convenience store but that’s 100 yards, or less from this shack. When I do leave I want to get back as soon as possible. I had five guys in the backyard yesterday afternoon pitching shoes and swilling beer. I was cool as a cucumber. No freaking. No blood pumping. I did lose the one game I pitched but, eh, it happens. I’m turning into some sort of twisted hermit. Interesting…

There I go again, getting all sidetracked. This post isn’t about my psychological health, or lack of. It was supposed to be about obtaining a medicinal cannabis recommendation renewal.

So, in I go to consult with the doc. It’s the usual questions about the previous surgeries. More questions about symptoms and pain. Then he asks about my opiate use. When I told him I’ve been taking pain killers for over 8 years he slides his chair back from the desk. “As a physician I cannot condone long-term opiate use,” he says. “You know you’re addicted.” (it really wasn’t a question). I tried to be a smartass and correct him by saying I’m not addicted but physically dependent. “Quit taking the Vicodin cold turkey and get back to me on that. I believe you’ll find it quite uncomfortable.” I ran out once. I know it’s a bitch. I wasn’t going to argue. He goes on to suggesting I slowly ween myself from the prescribed drugs and increase my cannabis dose. Obviously, in his opinion, long-term cannabis use is less harmful than medicating long-term with narcotics.

He then slid my chart over to me and said the recommendation had been made. He had never picked up a pen. The rec had been signed before I stepped into his office. And no, I don’t believe that’s SOP for this doctor. I know he has declined recommendation requests. My medical history speaks for itself I reckon.

I came home (finally!) with my renewal. I’m now legally illegal, in Washington, for another 364 days. This is will be my 4th year as a qualifying patient holding a medicinal cannabis recommendation. I think I’ll go pop a pill – encapsulated cannabis trichomes (the “crystals” harvested from the flower) – and then tend to my plants. I find gardening very therapeutic.


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