After major hip surgery, I was given a three month supply of opioids and cannabis helped me get off the pills and manage the pain.

Chronic pain has been a constant companion since I was 17 when I broke my hip and had to have arthroscopic surgery. A few years ago, I had to have a second hip surgery. As a much older man, my second recovery was long and painful, and the extent to which I would recover, uncertain. Doctor's have been warning me that I would likely need a hip replacement before turning 40.

This is significant because not only am I a father, I'm a stay-at-home parent. Mobility is part of my profession.

You heard that correctly. I am a parent and as you've no doubt implied by the the title, I've used cannabis as necessary pain management. Contrary to the opinion of the current Attorney General, however, I am not a bad person.

Now that I’ve got that off my chest, I feel like we can really get the ball rolling.

A path to pain management, a doorway to addiction

For the long and uncomfortable recovery, my doctor prescribed a healthy amount of painkillers. Specifically, a three month’s supply of 5m oxycodone and a lesser supply of 10m oxycontin.

Given that my surgery was only two years ago, the opioid epidemic was in full-swing and I was well-versed in the dangers. I had no intention of becoming a statistic.

Despite this knowledge, I took the opioids for months to quell the grinding pain in my hip. After nearly three months of using them, I’d predictably become chemically dependent, but my "addiction" story ends with only several days of heightened anxiety and mild discomfort.

After that, I never looked back.

Not long after I finally ran out, I was back at my doctor for a checkup and he asked me if I needed another refill. I did but considering how much I’d come to rely on them for pain management, I passed. I told him no refills were necessary. This was DC — there was a safer alternative. He smiled and simply said, “Okay.”

The cynical part of my brain thought my doctor was testing me. Surely getting a refill on opiates, given the looming epidemic, wouldn’t be as easy as saying, “Yes, I need another refill.” His question, though, was earnest and without subtext. He simply wanted to manage my pain.

I should point out that this wasn’t a pill mill. My doctor wouldn’t have blindly filled another script without a lengthy discussion on whether or not I actually needed them.

But, here’s my confession: I liked having opiates. They noticeably dulled the pain and made me feel great— positive even, and mentally charged. I don’t know if this is a common response to the chemical, but it was mine.

At the doctor's office, I had to remind myself of my commitment to not refilling my prescription—no matter what. My experience with opiates was to be terminal, even though I had a valid reason to use them.

My default setting on opiates was backed by a strong support network. I was in reasonably good health, had work to do, and a family to take care of. Unfortunately, many addicts across the country don’t have the same support network, and therefore relapse, or become addicted to harder more accessible drugs.

For me, and many others in the country where cannabis is legal, we've found a more viable solution to pain management.

Legalized cannabis could be a path out of the epidemic but it's not a cure-all

There are two reasons for all the context:

1. It’s always necessary to establish the argument for pain management because a lot of people, especially old school drug warriors, simply don’t believe there’s any value in cannabis 2. Please refer back to point 1

My quality of life was skipping down a hill long before I went in for surgery and by then my resolve had withered. Even walking a few blocks caused immense physical discomfort.

Chronic pain had exacerbated other problems, too, namely depression and heavier drinking.

Yet, being able to schedule an appointment with an orthopedic surgeon and start a regimen of physical therapy, made things more hopeful. Many who suffer chronic pain don’t have the resources to seek out treatment.

When the physical therapy and cortisone shots no longer worked, I eventually heeded the advice of cannabis-using friends and tried that. It didn't fix my chronic hip pain but it made it less constant and, for periods of time, the constant grinding became mere background noise.

It allowed me to enjoy life and focus on running around and playing with my daughter.

This is not to say that cannabis is a magic bullet that should be used without personal restraint. Nor is it for everyone.

There’s still a lot of misinformation about both its drawbacks and its efficacy as medicine.

To advocates, it’s properties are versatile and the zeitgeist is almost mythical, but legitimate research is just catching up to decades of propaganda. Some of the old myths are still touted by anti-legalization advocates today: That it’s a gateway drug, extremely dangerous, useless as medicine, and only bad people use it.

Yet, unlike other controlled substances we use recreationally, alcohol for example, cannabis seems to have far more value than just social lubrication and altered states of consciousness. There’s a growing body of evidence that it's highly beneficial—life-saving— to those suffering from chronic seizures and PTSD.

Its legalization also correlates highly with reduced opioid addiction.

Still, I won’t sit here and tell you cannabis is panacea. No such substance exists whether natural, manmade, or engineered by the gods—not yet anyway.

I also won't be the first to point out that it can be abused. Anything out of moderation can be abused to a body’s physical and mental detriment.

For example, you shouldn’t operate heavy machinery or perform difficult tasks under the influence of Cannabis. And, if you show up to a job where people's lives are on the line, the consequences should be swift and severe.

Neither can you produce a coherent, well-edited essay when stoned, even if anecdotally it’s great to get the ideas flowing.This essay, for example, was written and edited while one hundred percent sober, but it started out as a stray thought conjured out of a cannabis cloud.