Utah CANN, My Late Service Dog Molly, Agoraphobia & Cannabis to the Rescue.

Over the weekend I had the opportunity to sit on a patients panel at the Utah CANN Cannabis convention, which in itself was a HUGE step for me in getting back out into the world.

Drew and his service dog Molly at the USANA Amphitheater taking in an evening concert on the grass.

Getting out is challenging for me. In the before-times, I had my service dog Molly, she really did so much to help me get out into the world. But unfortunately a few months before the world ended, mine did too, when my Molly got a brain tumor and she passed away.

I haven’t been able to get a replacement service dog yet, so going out solo has been something I’d generally avoid. Its Amazon Prime, Smith's grocery delivery, and DoorDash, I’ve grown quite comfortable not having to go out and deal with the world, COVID and the lockdowns only enabled that and it made it worse.

So I’ve really been trying to get back out, and this panel was going to be a great opportunity, because I was able to speak on a topic I’m so passionate about.

Weed.

And even better, Weed and how it intersects with Veterans, and what we can do better.

This topic and everything we were going to be talking about gave me some comfort because if I were to have an anxiety attack on the stage, being a patient panel I wouldn’t have to be embarrassed, It would only serve as a demonstration of the power of Cannabis, and I’ll get to more of that part of the story in just a moment.

For this specific panel I was asked to speak on Veteran accessibility, or inaccessibility of a program many patients can’t afford, and to give my perspective as a Veteran on a fixed income. Knowing this panel was coming, I decided to run an experiment, for one month I purchased and only used “church approved” Utah Legal cannabis from one of the state approved dispensaries.

I didn’t go crazy and buy everything, I only got what I needed to medicate, some high dose edible gummies, some topicals and some Vape Cartridges. Those where the only things I could “afford” and the quality and price of raw flower in this state is just a joke.

In total for one month of medicine, I spent $1533. As a disabled veteran on a fixed income, that equals to 46% of my monthly disability that I have to live off of. It’s also twice the cost of my home mortgage! That is absurd. That’s like Insulin or HIV medication prices, without insurance, and this is the stuff that grows like a weed. On the black market in Utah, one month of medical cannabis would be about $600 to $800 depending on the season. During the winter months I tend to use more than during the summer/spring/fall months. It’s an interesting observation I’ve noticed over the years. What’s amazing, is in California I would spend $400 to $500 a month.

The financial impact from medicating with cannabis is so drastic depending on where you live as a patient.

If you have a state run medical cannabis program that is priced out of the range of many patients, is your state run program truly accessible?

Accessibility is a very interesting word, it’s one I’ve come to understand over the last decade. Those of us living with any kind of disability also know how vulnerable our disability and limits can sometimes make us feel.

Drew rocking his Air Force blues as a young Airman at the Defense Information School at Fort Meade.

Vulnerability is one of those things I’ve worked hard in my late life to make sure I never reveal or expose. Working in politics, being in the military, in the closet (at the time) having a semi public profile, I worked hard to produce the public facing avatar people saw, and compartmentalized and packed away those other things like a good Irishman Mormon, put them up on the shelf and never speak of them again. LOL, OMG that is such an unhealthy trait I’ve inherited from my ancestors. For me though in the past I’ve had others take moments of vulnerability where I’ve opened up, and it was weaponized and used against me.

A lot of that occurred during the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell years while I was in the military, and unpacking those years, oh boy, that could be an entire blog unto itself… but as a result of the fortress of walls I’ve grown and built around me over the years often looks like a fortified and armed labyrinth with me at the center, and with that isolation I also would keep all my unprocessed trauma internal, which lets be honest, that only makes us sick.

I don’t know if my cancer back in the summer of 2020 was the result of unprocessed trauma manifesting as cancer in my body, like some of my friends have suggested, but I do know mentally if you keep it all in without ever letting it out, you’re gonna explode!

So I decided I was going to write about some of my experiences with this Blog and Podcast as the Pothead Veteran, use it as a way to document my journey and experiences. I also knew I was going to have to start being vulnerable again, and in doing so it’s my hope that there are others out there that may be in the similar place, regardless of the source of your trauma, and hopefully me sharing and talking about it, and what tools are helping me, that it might also help you on your journey.

Agoraphobia: Gahd, I really hate that word.

For some reason it invokes a visceral reaction deep in my core whenever I say it. Sure, it’s the medical term for one of those “additional experiences” that Post Traumatic Stress gifted me along the way, along with depression — it keeps me locked in here at home a lot of the time. But it sounds like something weird, kinda spidery, or something that normal people don’t get.

What’s normal anyways?

I just hate the word and clinical definition. I’m not terrified of the world around me, I’m just aware of everything and would just rather not deal with it, if I have the choice.

Molly the Service Dog playing in the fresh power that fell the prior night.

As I said earlier in this post, my service dog Molly help me SO MUCH, I can’t even begin to explain how much she contributed to my progress and ability to get out and be more functional. Having her at my side at all times really took the edge off the PTS and we were such a successful team. I know the question you're asking, so why don’t you get another service dog? I desperately want and need another dog, but I have a few hurdles standing in the way for me. First, and the biggest hurdle is that I don’t currently have a therapist or counselor at the VA anymore that can sign the required paperwork for the application.

The one I had for years at the VA, and loved and made a lot of progress with, I learned that he retired during the pandemic.

So why don’t I get a new therapist. <exhaustive exhale.> Let me tell you a little something about VA Mental Health system. It’s exhausting.

The process of finding the right counselor, or therapist is quite the ordeal — Part of the frustration is the VA is adjacent to the University of Utah and it’s medical school, and they partner with the school so the VA is also a “teaching” hospital with lots of fresh therapist working under their professor and they’re only there for the semester, so good luck building a relationship of trust, by the time you do, they’re gone, and a new kid is sitting in the same chair with his fresh new notepad. I spent 4 years getting tossed around from therapist to student, to therapist to student. I don’t mean to knock on student doctors, everyone has to learn somewhere… but being the “experiment” for them wasn’t my idea of a quality or ground breaking therapy session. One time, I had this new kid, He showed up a few minutes late to the appointment, flying into the building with his bike and an across the chest strapped leather book bag, looking all cute in his tight fitted khakis with an equally fitted knit button-down shirt, seriously he look like he fell right out of a catalog catering to the “bro community” — at least he was fun to look at.

But in this one instance during my therapy session he was telling me about this groundbreaking tool he had just learned about in class that is helping a lot of people find success as a tool for beating anxiety attacks, and he wanted to try it with me. I’m the kind of person that will try anything once — so I said sure. So he has me sit still, focus on my breath, and become aware of my body as I sit there… Hold up <record scratch> Are you teaching me Mindfulness Meditation?

I was like — you JUST learned about this? Anyway, long story short, I don’t have the energy to go through 2 years of the churn at the VA clinic until I can find a therapist I trust with experience — and the thought of having to endure that process again — well it brings me to a screeching halt.

I’d rather hike Mt. Everest with my bone on bone hip joint and no pain meds before experiencing that process again.

I think the real fear is knowing the process of every time you get a new therapist, you have to go through the trauma all over again, opening up doors and rooms and memories of trauma that you’ve already worked so hard to clear and integrate, and having to re-experience those traumas all over again just to get them up to speed and caught up about why you're so messed up — that’s enough to stop you in your tracks.

I’m not ready to experience all that, so it just compounds the mental health cluster-frack I’m in, nevertheless, I will persist, and hold onto hope that I’ll get another service dog one day, so I can regain the freedom I once had with Molly.

I will say though, 12 years of going to professional therapy, I feel like I have enough office hours to get an honorary degree in Psychology. I know every tool there is in the book, and often act as a friend therapist to many of my friends because of it. Anyway, with the struggle with Post Traumatic Stress, and the Agoraphobia, my house has become my sanctuary, and getting out becomes a challenge as it was this last weekend at the Cannabis convention. I mentioned earlier about this panel, and getting to the Fairgrounds was already a victory for me. I had a couple high dose gummies already doing their diddle in my system, and I was feeling great. I walked around briefly, taking a few rips of my vape pen, and found the room where the panel session was going to take place. As everyone made their way into the room, and I took my seat on the stage, I could feel the anxiety slowly start to creep up from behind. I already knew every exit, and defensive point in the room, I’d already assessed that the second I walked into the room earlier, but now it was the compulsion to be aware of every single person in the room, run threat analysis on each one and being aware of their location and the entire room. Using my tools, I began by regaining control of my breathing, and then of course… while on stage without consciously even thinking about it, I grabbed my vape pen, discreetly put it up to my lips, and I took a big ole long “rescue drag” all the way deep into my lungs. As soon as I realize what I just did, and where I was, I had a slight moment of panic. Oh shit!

This is Utah, I’m indoors. On Stage

I wouldn’t be surprised if there was an undercover narc in this very audience, in fact the cute dude in the back definitely was giving off the Utah Highway Patrol vibe. I slowly try to let out my lung-full of drugs, just hoping maybe it was a light pull. NOPE, I’m a fetching Smoke breathing dragon, and like a stage prop, I just smoked the entire panel into a nice haze of Orange Creamsicle from Riverside Farm. I think to myself, did anyone notice? YUP, as the room started to laugh at what just happened.

But, thanks to cannabis, I instantly felt a rush of calm hit me, and circumstance presented me an opportunity as a teaching lesson to show how patients like me use medical cannabis in daily life to get by — it was because of cannabis that I was able to get to this event in the first place, and it was because of that slightly embarrassing and public rescue hit off my vape pen, that I was able to stay on that panel and tell my story to the audience. Had I not had those tools at hand in that moment, I probably would have “gotten sick” and excused myself off the panel, and then going home I’d beat my self up and feel down on myself for letting my disability win the day. Instead, I won the day! I was able to have an amazing conversation with a group of panelist, and interact with several members in the audience that are going through the same thing as I am.

So I gladly take this win over the weekend, and with this blog further go into the topic of that panel. We ran out of time, but the second topic I was asked to discuss ended up becoming this post. It’s funny how everything always works out in the end. Anyway, I’m the Pothead Veteran, thank you for listening, please make sure you subscribe to my podcast which is available on all podcasting platforms. As I leave you, always remember to look for the opportunities to make the world a better place, and like always, Smoke Long and Prosper.