Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

The following is an SMS I received from my Mum on the 5th of November 2017.

Im thinking bad stuff cos Im a hassle to everyone around me. I told em how much pain i was in at lunchtime and dad said “you’re like this everyday”, its worse today i went on, and he walked off. Mum didnt give a shit, nobody cares about me so im thinking of doin myself a favour. Nobody can do anything about it, and the depression is taking its toll. Hope you have a good life and your kids care more about you then mine did. No offence because i know you did try, but i wouldn’t have any. Please dont get the shits the way you do, im in too much pain to exist in this life. FUCK IT, FUCK IT ALL cant deal with it no more. Goodbye my son, you were my only happiness and i love you more than words can say.

Then followed my another SMS saying;

“Big mistake, do not read”

As soon as I received this message, I copied it to the notes app on my mobile phone and deleted it from my messages. I knew she would want to check that it was gone, and would become very angry if it wasn’t deleted. I kept it as a reminder that one day I could show her this, a day that she had a clear mind. I think that day has finally come.

Let me try and break this SMS down for you, so you can understand a little more about the absolute hell we were in.

I told em how much pain i was in at lunchtime and dad said “you’re like this everyday”, its worse today i went on, and he walked off.

Mum is a chronic pain sufferer, of 15+years. Pain that began in her neck, went down to her lower back and spread across her body. She is 54 years old. It began in her late 30s. For the last 5 or so years, she has been bedridden. Walking with a cane, hunched over to a right angle. Constantly crying. She lives with her elderly parents, who are in their mid 80s.

Nobody can do anything about it, and the depression is taking its toll

Over the last 15 years, we have been to every specialist imaginable, though we never received an official diagnosis on her condition. She has mild disk degeneration, and disk narrowing which would cause some of her pain, but medically nothing that should be causing her this agony. Fibromyalgia was also mentioned as a possible cause. In 2004, Mum had a Anterior Cervical Decompression and Spine Fusion Procedure which was unsuccessful.

Like many people who suffer Chronic pain, she also suffers from Chronic Depression. “I’m in a deep, black, fucking hole” was one of her common outcries. She wouldn’t leave her room, wouldn’t go out, she would be very aggressive and wouldn’t smile or laugh. She almost missed my wedding, and didn’t attend my daughter’s christening.

im in too much pain to exist in this life. FUCK IT, FUCK IT ALL cant deal with it no more. Goodbye my son, you were my only happiness and i love you more than words can say.

Her main escape from the pain was a very impressive resume of benzodiazepines and opiate medications. Some of her favourites included Oxycontin, Endone, Serapax and Valium. She was taking up to 10 or 12 tablets a day for her pain, or up to 40 in one go when she decided she couldn’t go on. Off we went to the hospital again, with my drugged out mother over my shoulder. I’ll never forget the time a triage nurse pulled me aside to speak to me in private. She wanted to discuss Mum’s medications and said that she has never seen anyone with such a mixture of medications who did not get them on the black market. She was blown away that any doctor would even think of allowing someone to have access to so many addictive and destructive medications. She then looked me in the eye and said… “I’m sorry”. “ For what?” I asked. She said, “We did this to her, not me or anyone in this hospital, but the whole medical system in general”. I was absolutely gobsmacked.

I think you get the picture of her state at this time, but they do say you have to reach rock bottom before you can start to climb again. Rock bottom came for Mum in Dec of 2017. Her very generous, legal drug dealing pain specialist suddenly could not prescribe any more benzo or opiate medications. (We found out later that he lost his licence to prescribe). We were informed that we were to go to our local GP and he would be able to continue prescribing these medications with the specialist’s referral letter. No GP would or could prescribe any patient a resume of drugs of this description to anyone. It’s unheard of.

So after visiting four to five GPs in our local area, pleading for help, Mum was placed on the Doctor Shopping Register and blacklisted from any prescriptions for a period of 3 months.

I suddenly had a chronically depressed mother who suffers from chronic pain, withdrawing from heroin-like medications on my hands. Patience is a virtue, but this was beyond me! Back to the ER we go, again and again.

Two or so months had passed and Mum was slowly showing signs of getting through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms, though her pain was worse than ever. During a dinner party, an aunt informed me of a friend of hers that was currently taking cannabis oil to treat conditions such as vertigo and mentioned that he had improved dramatically. She told me she had the number of the supplier and to give them a call to find out more details to see if it would help Mum. I agreed but didn’t make the call right away. I assumed that there would be no way cannabis oil would help her after what she had just been through with all her medications, though it was always at the back of my mind.

Another month had passed and Easter came around. We were celebrating at my newly renovated home and informed Mum of the gathering. She surprisingly agreed to attend. On the morning of Easter Sunday, I received a text message from her saying she wasn’t able to attend because of a sleepless night dealing with the pain. As much as this disappointed me, I wasn’t surprised. In fact, kind of used to it. The day went on as per scheduled.

I visited her on Easter Monday and found her in a fit of rage. She had been fighting with her parents about not attending the previous day. They were arguing over the fact that she could have come to Easter if she really wanted to, and how disappointed I was that she didn’t attend… “How can I fucking go, when I can’t walk Mum?” “What kind of celebration can I have when I need my bed all the time?”. She then suddenly threw a glass of soft drink across the yard. She started to yell violently. “I can’t fucking do this anymore, I’m having a mental breakdown”. She instantly broke down and fell into my arms sobbing hysterically. I have seen her cry, but never quite like this. She was truly beat up, both physically and mentally. After a few minutes of attempting to console her, she finally calmed down enough to be spoken to. I brought up the subject of the cannabis oil and explained the benefits I had briefly researched. She agreed that she would like to give it a go. At this stage it was our only hope.

The next day during my lunch break at work, I called the supplier and began to explain Mum’s condition and history. To my disbelief, the supplier explained that she got into the cannabis oil industry suffering from the very same conditions that Mum was dealing with. She was on all the same medications, suffered from chronic pain and anxiety and was raising two children. She informed me that she has been off her opiate medications for over a year, and that she no longer uses antidepressants to treat her anxiety or depression. She was so happy that I reached out to her and she told me that this would change Mum’s life. I ordered her recommendation of oils and other products and waited anxiously for the delivery.

I informed Mum of the conversation I had with the supplier. She seemed a little excited and I noticed a change in her expression. “Well love, I hope this works. I’m fed up with this life. When are they going to be delivered?”. “It should be here tomorrow,” I replied.

I received a call around lunchtime the next day from Mum. The oils had arrived with instructions on dosages and a little history on the supplier and her recovery. There was a personally written message for Mum, to give her a little bit of hope. Hope she had lost many years ago. She started to use the oils as directed.

It had been a week since I had seen her, and I was very anxious to find out how she was going. I walked into her house and greeted my grandparents. I then proceeded to walk out to the balcony to greet mum. I noticed her sitting upright in her chair having a cigarette. This came as a shock at first as I was so used to her sitting slumped in her chair to take pressure off her lower back. She seemed alive. She seemed awake. She seemed bright. “How are you feeling”? I asked. “Son, it’s like I’ve been resurrected! I’m still in pain, but it’s tolerable now. I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It’s a miracle!”

I didn’t believe this at first, as part of me thought she was just saying it to make me happy. I kissed her and hugged her. I was blown away to hear her speak this way. It was almost unnatural, like she wasn’t supposed to say it. I was so used to the constant crying and talking about how ill she is and how much she wants to die.

…a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It’s a miracle!”

Four months later, those words still shock me.

On a physical level, her pain is still tolerable. She still has her bad days but has cut out all of the opiate medications. She has become more mobile. She reads and listens to music. She craves foods again and wants to leave the house. She is still alive, bright, and awake.

Regarding her mental state, no longer does she wish for death. No longer does she cry on my shoulder and become aggressive at the slightest joke. I can happily say I have my Mum back. I have a shoulder to cry on, a best friend to speak to about the troubles of life. Someone that is proud of me and notices my accomplishments. She had died and come back to life. She may not be 100% yet, but so far this has truly been a miracle.

Let’s see what the future holds.

Cannabis oil has achieved more than all the medical professionals we have seen. I swore to myself, many years ago, I would proudly shake the hand of the doctor that would successfully help my mother…

I have never been one to express myself in a public forum. I’m not your regular Facebook poster or social media user. I keep to myself, so much so that most people I know wouldn’t have a clue what we’ve been through.

Now is the time to make cannabis oil freely available. Now is the time to help others who are suffering.

This is my story. There are many more just like it.