It's never easy living with someone who is chronically ill. I know this from experience on both sides. For about a decade, now, I've watched my grandfather's health wax and wane with an overall trend toward decline. This is the curse of mortality, at work. It's not as though his body is deteriorating young, exactly.
Well, I had a talk with him. It wasn't a talk about hospice, or a 'home for the elderly,' or any of the conventional talks younger family members have with their elderly members. I had the cannabis talk. While medical marijuana has been legal for some time, now that it's also legal recreationally, it has been gaining more general acceptance and is more (legally) available. I think that we should've brought up medical marijuana a long time ago with my grandpa, but I've now had personal experience in the world of cannabis, and particularly with using it medically, so it has started to seem particularly timely. Chronic pain, fatigue, appetite problems, sleep troubles, weakness, flattened affect... Living in the same household, I can tell that every day is a struggle and a feat for him.
I've replaced all of my medications for: bipolar, anxiety, fibromyalgia, and countless other issues big and small. Virtually every aspect of my well-being has been improved in some way. Mood swings are quite nearly nonexistence, my anxieties have vanished, and my pain is controlled better than ever before. I can do dozens of times more physical activity, have had a shift in my diet that's more protein heavy, and had relatively great sleep. Things taste better, but I don't actually have an excessive appetite or get the munchies more than usual. Most of my bodily functions seemed to have improved in some way. Elusive problems that I haven't been able to treat before have been getting treated for the first time. How could I see all these improvements in myself and not think to suggest it to my grandpa?
At this point, there aren't particularly 'good days' and 'bad days.' They all are struggles. I've witnessed him in complete agony, embarrassment, guilt, and crippling disability. With each step up or down the stairs, he moves like a quaking mammoth, slow and shaky. His muscles are being cannibalised by his body, his joints inflaming, his insides seemingly smashed and beaten, his bones deteriorating. When he smiles, you can still see how worn out he has become, how weary and exhausted.
This is a stoic man. He has been through a lot, but he doesn't like to show it. Our family is accustomed to keeping our struggles to ourselves, braving them silently. When we finally ask for help, it's usually at a time of severe desperation. So to hear him crying out for help while in extreme pain says a lot about what he's been going through.
Grandpa has a weakness for chocolate (I call him the Candy Drawer Bandit), and so I mentioned chocolate edibles. Coming from a very conservative, Christian background, he reacted surprisingly openly-minded, but he still shows some hesitation. I saw that he did seem to deeply consider using cannabis medicinally. Still, ages-old biases do seem to also have some hold over him. I don't expect him to make an instant, or even overnight, decision, and I'm frankly encouraged that he seems to be quite seriously considering the suggestion. While it will always be his decision, I do hope he at least gives cannabis a decent chance. It's not a miracle drug. It doesn't spontaneously cure all ailments. Still, I do think cannabis is a close second. It would be a relief to see him get some relief. The various drugs and pills he's on only do so much, and they have some considerable risks. It would be good to see him feeling healthier.
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