(Part 3 of our series, Through Our Eyes of A Stoner)
Hold the Mustard Please.
I was standing there looking at my '78 VW Kombi, on only three wheels now, with the jack at the left rear side having blown out thrusting the wheel well to the cement and pitching the extended-top van awkwardly to the side.
Why I was standing there and not scrambling to do something of more use, I cannot fully explain other than I was stoned. Spaceman high.
"We were only supposed to change the fucking oil, " I think. I'm slightly panicking for the vans safety at this point. We've only just got the thing, (M and I), and we've spent our entire savings to get it. (Which was, in all honesty, quite a humble amount, but when you're as unwise with spending your money as I am you learn to appreciate every small victory.)
So after buying our dream van, to accommodate M and my own dreams of being van dwelling nomads for hopefully the rest of our lives, I decided to take it to my buddies house. He's a mechanic by trade and he offered to show me a few simple tasks to make my travelling life easier and cheaper.
Lesson one was supposed to be an oil change.
But I suppose, when any endeavor begins with Crystal Meth there's a significant chance of error. And as it just so happens, my very good pal, who is in all honesty a great mechanic, begun this venture french kissing his Crack pipe. Not that his drug use bugged me... who am I to judge? In relative terms, his Meth use probably matches my weed use, so what could I even say?
Somehow it always seems like I get drawn into conversations about my views on Cannabis strains and effects. Maybe it's just the vibe I give off that makes people feel comfortable to approach the subject with me, or maybe it has something to do with the fact that, because my views on the matter are so intense, subconsciously I always steer the conversation towards the absurdity of the Marijuana prohition.
After a slight bit of panic, and a lot of mucking around, we managed to get the jack fixed and the tyre back on. I had to talk my buddy into not taking off the other three wheels and get with the task at hand: oil change.
"Focus man!" I want to slap him. "Drugs are bad, m'kay?" Shit, I was supposed to think that, not say it out loud.
I get the confused blank stare, weird blink combo. "You smoke weed," he says, letting the words hang in the air. He thinks he's about to strike a mortal blow; his lips spread into a shit eating grin before he continues, "all this hype about weed being a miracle drug, but people with cancer are still dying. You can't tell me it's better than chemo."
So he's heralding the health benefits of chemotherapy and spouting nonsense about a blatantly false view in the instance of cannabis as a medicine in the treatment of cancer? Seems like he has a sound understanding and a firm argument.
I restrain myself from rolling my eyes.
No, if you're sparking up some of best medicinal herb that you can afford, there's no guarantee that your cancer will remiss. You could very well succumb to the barbarian sickness ravaging your body and die all the same, but then again there's no guarantee with chemotherapy either. I feel like so many people don't actually understand chemo. Granted, I've been fortunate enough to have never had to undergo it, but I do realize chemo is a weapon.
Literally. It was designed to kill. I'm not talking about cancer here either. If you think chemotherapy was soley developed by a bunch of hard working, do-good, scientists striving to make the world a better place by creating a new aggressive treatment with the potential to rid your body of its murderer, well then you my friend are wrong. Sure that idea came around eventually, but essentially chemo is a medicinized weapon. It was developed by war mongers in World War I as advancements were made in the charge of chemical warfare.
Chemotharapies original name is Mustard Gas.
Try swapping them out. Just for the fun of it, let's replace the word chemo with Mustard Gas.
"The Mustard Gas treatment didn't work for poor old Maude, she passed last night."
Sounds fucked up when you think about it like that, huh?
But people will run to the doctor and literally fill their bodies with poison instead of a completely natural remedy that offers them the same, if not a better, chance of survival. Stew on this for a second, what do you think would happen to a person who was in perfect health, if they underwent chemo?
I'm not a doctor, so don't take my word for it and by all means look into it yourself, but I don't think that it takes an Einstein to realize that chemotherapy treatment, if given to a person for whom it was not required would most likely be lethal. It's a fucked up race really, can it kill the cancer before it kills you? At least if you're burning some tree and the treatment does not work, you'll die knowing that it is the disease that has taken you, not the medicine.
So why isn't chemotherapy illegal? Why is it that we have to campaign with great fervor for a life giving herb to be given its freedom while patients are being administered something with an astronomically higher death rate than weed? (Let's be honest folks, the counts still at zero for bud so basically weed is safer than everything on the planet.) How can doctors promote such a death dealing treatment and not be thrown in jail as criminals?
I'll tell you why, because there's an understood risk and as adults you make an informed decision after weighing everything out. A cancer patient doesn't undergo chemotherapy without being told of the probability of their death, there's procedures in place to regulate everything. So why can't we have the same right as a medicinal smoker, or even a recreational smoker for that matter? Why can we not be informed upon the risks of Marijuana and then left alone, as capable adults able to decide for ourselves?
Someone can legally decide to be given a potentially fatal therapy, provided by corporations that measure healing by the amount of money they can make, but they cannot decide to grow a plant in their own back yard and smoke it? Denying a person the potential for free healing is a criminal action and for far too long innocent people have suffered under the governments iron fist.
If I'm a criminal for smoking dope then a doctor is a criminal for administering chemotherapy.
Sounds ludicrous, huh?
But I think sometimes for something to be in perspective, it also has to be blown out of proportion. Sometimes you can't always see the sense in something until you see the nonsense in it.
What's not blown out of proportion is this : if we've come to a place in human history where it's acceptable to bomb your body with chemical warfare before it's acceptable to use a plant, some shit's gotta change.
But what do I know? I'm just a dope head with a Kombi, a bong and a delusion.
Until next time.