Medical Cannabis: a minefield
by MEGAN NEFF
Christina Williams, a Utah county resident and cannabis patient, has faced the complicated facets of being a cannabis user in Utah. Utah's culture shaped how she grew up and told a familiar story of what is believed in its communities.
"I used to view marijuana in a totally different way; when you're raised around this area, a drug is a drug," Williams said.
When pain medication wasn't a viable option for her, she sought to get her medical marijuana card to treat a rare neurological condition called Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia.
As she became familiar with using medical cannabis to combat her physical and mental ailments, the negative stigmas followed.
Before Williams medicated with cannabis, she navigated through her trauma and pain with alcohol.
"The people that are closest to me can see the difference compared to when I've tried other medications or especially in my addictive phase and can see that I am functioning, and I am not in as much pain, and I'm not in as much anxiety."
With access to her medicine, her ability to manage her addiction strengthened, and the positive side effects of using became a tool she would use to get through a challenging year.
"I tell people that without my card, I would be on pain pills for the rest of my life, and I don't ever want that," she said.
Williams is a mental health worker who has seen the front lines of what addictive pain medication can do to patients.
"…seeing these people come in with medications that they've been taking for 15 plus years for a back injury, and they keep adding more and more. I don't want that kind of a life".
Williams can work in an environment where she can be open with her medical marijuana use, "They're open to being educated about it because of me." The transparency between using cannabis and the workplace can be a complicated and legal struggle for many patients. "When I told people about it, I was kind of scared, but after people came to my office asking me questions and it kind of made me happy that I could be a patient advocate in a way," Williams said.
Williams continues to be open about her experience with medical marijuana as an aid to combat her PTSD, depression, and anxiety amidst the pushback of conservative views.
"When I take marijuana, I'm able to relax and calm down; the problems are still there. But they're not these big monsters that my anxiety made them to be."
A battle of societal stigma and wellbeing is a hurdle for professionals who do not have the same transparency in the workplace as Williams.
Zakk Ellis, an associate clinical mental health counselor in Utah, has faced the bleak legal implications of Utah's legislative process on medical cannabis.
Ellis was adopted from Mexico and found his family through ancestral DNA, but a trip to Mexico to meet them would begin a tug-of-war between his health and the state.
As a sufferer of multiple back injuries, opioids were no longer an option for him. Traveling to Mexico to meet his family was an obstacle to manage pain. Across state lines to Mexico, he accessed cannabis in a last-ditch effort to subside the pain.
After completing close to 10 years of schooling and finishing grad school, Ellis sent his application to the Utah Division of Occupational & Professional Licensing to receive his license.
"I remember, I got an email on my phone from DOPL, and it stated they were going to give me a license on a probationary status," Ellis said.
But to receive a license, a drug test must be performed. Ellis disclosed his ingestion of cannabis for pain and got a positive test result. Due to this, DOPL held his license, and without legal help, they could have it for up to 5 years.
The state requires a wide range of requirements to be completed to reinstate licensing professionals' process when a positive drug test result shows. That includes psychological exams, counseling, and a probationary phase. All this is required to be paid by Ellis at his own expense.
His only viable option for accessible cannabis was to get it across state lines in but at this time, Utah did not have any open dispensaries.
"I didn't have a decision unless I wanted to do things illegally on the black market," Ellis said. "I wasn't doing anything wrong, but now all of a sudden, they're keeping my license from me."
Confusing instructions from the state led Ellis down the broken road many patients have to decipher themselves.
"But it ended up reprimanding and hurting me. I did everything right, but now it's just hard finding a job," The fragmented society and professionals struck Ellis in ways that he didn't anticipate. "What I'm finding out in my [job] interviews is that they're getting hung up on that I'm a cannabis-consuming patient. [There's a] lot of bias and a lot of discrimination now, I mean just a lot," Ellis said.
The discrimination Ellis felt not only inhibited his ability to work but came with overwhelming emotion that he was the problem, "I'm so down on myself…I'm reflecting on myself poorly now because of it."
After years of waiting fighting, Ellis received his license and is now working as a counselor for a methadone clinic. Through grief and hardship, Ellis developed genuine empathy and determination. His goal is to start his practice to treat patients with medical cannabis and bring a sense of sincerity he feels is lacking in the field.
"We're going to show them that people that use [cannabis] can run a successful business and clinic," he said.
Ellis hopes that we will soon prosper in a functional and accepting society that finds peace between mental health care and medical cannabis.
"You have to be on the same page; the doctors have to work in conjunction. They've got to start educating themselves…too many people are hurting and dying," Ellis said.
Patients and advocates across Utah demand a more straightforward path for pain and mental health on the use of medical cannabis.