Waiting to Inhale & Medical Marijuana Use by Oriana Iverson

In April of 2007 I was diagnosed with Hodgkins Lymphoma. When I received this diagnosis at the ripe age of 30 I could not believe it. I have always been a very natural person, and try to use herbs and vitamins to keep healthy. How could this happen? People kept trying to convince me that I could beat it through some alternative treatment, and as much as I wanted to go that route, I had a husband and two-year-old son and I did not want to take chances.

My doctors informed me that a mild (by comparison) regimen of chemotherapy and radiation would most likely cure my cancer. Hodgkins is apparently a form of lymphatic cancer that is actually 95% curable with three months of weekly chemotherapy followed by one month of daily radiation treatments. Done and cured within 6 months? The choice to me was clear.

I prepped myself for what I knew would be a severely difficult time on my new family, and would certainly wreak havoc on my body. When treatments started it was as bad as I imagined. I was immediately nauseous and had no appetite. When I managed to muscle something down, I had severe digestive issues including excruciating stomachaches. I had constant headaches, suffered depression, couldn’t sleep, had low self-esteem after losing my hair, and generally felt just crappy.

It was not a completely novel idea to me to use marijuana to combat the side effects that I experienced from chemo. I had smoked it recreationally prior to my illness, and had had it in my medicine chest for nausea for years, but until I began using it medicinally for a serious illness, I never really truly understood how powerful and necessary a medicine it could be. I would use a vaporizer to partake, which warms the herb to the point of melting the THC crystals and releasing the essence of the herb but not burning it. I figured in light of the fact that I had cancer I should probably try to limit the amount of carcinogens that I purposely introduced into my system. This method of self medication was far more effective than any of the ten different drugs the doctor had prescribed to me to combat my side effects. One anti nausea medicine that was prescribed to me cost something like $1000 for 15 tablets and was reported to be the only truly effective drug for that purpose. Fortunately for me, I never needed to try it.

A visit to my “medication station” could, within minutes, stimulate my appetite, lift my spirits, relieve my aches and pains, and help me get to sleep. I had resolved from the beginning to keep a positive attitude because I knew it was the only way I could give strength to the people who loved and supported me, and herb was a great facilitator in helping me to achieve this goal.
My understanding was that once chemo was over, I had braved the worst, and it was “all downhill” from there. Once radiation started my hair would begin to grow back, and I wouldn’t be as nauseous. Instead of insomniac, I would be fatigued and finally able to sleep for more than 4 hours. My main issue was supposed to be acid reflux. Antacids would be helpful for this. (In reality, because of the heartburn and reflux that I experienced even while I was still eating, it was very difficult to motivate to eat at all. When I took my herbal medicine, I was at least temporarily convinced that eating could be tolerable and was worth the discomfort.) However, though all the promises about what to expect during radiation were accurate, a new, unexpected set of symptoms arose in reaction to the chemotherapy--after I had actually finished.

I developed a condition called peripheral neuropathy which is not uncommon to people who have been administered my chemo regimen. The normal symptoms are numbness and tingling in the extremities and in severe cases, dizziness and a decrease in muscle mass and motor function. In acute cases like mine, these other symptoms were accompanied by intolerable pain of every imaginable sensation: stinging, burning, aching, etc. It was relentless and for 6 weeks I slept no more than 2 hours a night. During the day I would spend my time trying to focus on something other than the pain and most times could be found rocking back and forth, near tears.

During this period, my use of medical marijuana increased to the point that I really needed to smoke every hour or so to relieve the pain. At that point those in my family who were unaccustomed to this kind of blatant and unapologetic use of marijuana could have easily worried that I was involved in some sort of addiction. But instead, they were all incredibly supportive. They witnessed me taking painkillers like Vicodin and (for lack of any drug specifically designed to combat acute peripheral neuropathy) the maximum dosage of a seizure medicine called Neurontin, just to ease the pain. It quickly became clear to them that the only time I was even close to comfortable was when I had medicated with a natural herb.

With so many friends and family coming through our home to help, it would have been a mixed blessing had they not all been so tolerant of my choice to use marijuana as an integral part of my treatment and care. I used their openness as an opportunity to educate them about how marijuana can be safely accessed and consciously administered. There was so much growth that occurred within all those who were touched by this experience. My mother actually came with me to a clinic to purchase medical marijuana lawfully, and others in the family tolerated the two beautiful bushes in our backyard that I was, to their amazement, permitted to grow via my doctor’s prescription and subsequently procured “215 card”.

I am so thankful that I was able to include marijuana in my treatment and use the experience as platform to increase consciousness around its compassionate use. During the height of my affliction with peripheral neuropathy my band was asked to perform at a medical marijuana rally. I could barely walk and my singing voice had suddenly decided to ditch its middle register. It was tempting to turn down the gig, but the cause was too close to my own heart. I got up on stage with my bald, scarf wrapped head, and sang to the best of my ability, all the while dancing and holding on to the microphone stand for balance. After what I had been through, it really hit home how important it is to promote the legalization of medical marijuana.

With recent changes in mandates around the cultivation and use of medical marijuana, and the ever-present disparity between state and federal laws, it is as important as ever to stand up for this cause and inform the public about the value of marijuana as a safe and effective alternative to prescription drugs. When Ironweed recently decided to put out the film “Waiting to Inhale,” I knew I had to be involved some how. During my treatment my mother took over operations for Ironweed Film Club, and the film that was coming out at that time was the “Breast Cancer Diaries,” which was moving to me as I could relate to the experience. Once again they are putting out a film that speaks to this life-changing event in my life and I am honored to have been included in the process of creating and promoting it.

I have been deemed cancer free for nearly a year now and have returned to my occasional recreational use of marijuana. Though it still elevates my mood, and stimulates my appetite, I no longer find it absolutely necessary to use it in order to cope. My pain is gone and my strength, balance and motor coordination have returned. I feel normal once again. Through the blessings of the creator, the love and support of my friends and family, and recent medical advancements (albeit thoroughly non-holistic), I was able to make it through. With the meditation induced through the use of marijuana, I was able to make it a spiritual experience and use it as an opportunity for growth and self-reflection.

--Oriana Iverson, Cancer Survivor (Introduction/ Ironweed Films Volume 32: July 2008)
Visit www.ironweedfilms.com/films to learn more.