My sister Pat was the local minister in our town, then she was the fire and brimstone type of preacher that told us all exactly what was right and wrong.
Even when Pat wasn’t at the church, she was trying to dictate to the family what she believed to be familiar and improper.
When my medical pro commanded me to use medical marijuana to help with the nausea of cancer treatments, I was simply terrified. I hated the method of needing to go to a medical marijuana dispensary and possibly being seen by one of Pats congregation members. The method of knowing that I use medical marijuana getting back to Pat was terrifying to me. I had the medical marijuana card in my hand as I drove up to the front of the medical marijuana dispensary that afternoon, although I could not get out of my car. There were multiple people at the Starbucks Latte shop across the road from the medical marijuana dispensary that I knew belonged to Pat’s church group. I said in my motorcar quivering, and wondering if I could ever get up the nerve to go into the marijuana dispensary. As I was preparing to drive away, a young woman walked up to my window and asked if I needed some help. She said she was the pharmacist on duty that afternoon with the medical marijuana dispensary. I explained my situation and she told me about using the medical marijuana delivery services they offered. Had that young woman not been going into her shift at work, I may have never got this help that I needed from the medical marijuana. Now my cancer treatments are now almost complete, and thanks to medical marijuana, my health and weight are healthy enough to sustain me through the remainder of my cancer treatments.