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The Cur(s)e of Chemotherapy
by Norm Kent
Years ago, when my Labrador retriever contracted heartworm disease, the
veterinarian explained to me the treatment that would save his life. "We inject him
with the poison arsenic, " he said, "but just enough to kill the heartworms and
not stop the heart.... Sure, the arsenic is a toxic poison, but we want to kill the
parasite before it kills the dog." I am now a cancer patient, and it occurs to me
that I have now become my dog.
This month, I go for my last chemotherapy treatment. Chemotherapy consists of the body
receiving four deadly drugs- cytoxin, adriamycin, oncovin and steroidal prednisone, in
order to kill toxic and spreading cancer cells. Unfortunately, the drugs are equal
opportunity killers, and they not only hopefully destroy the deadly cancer cells, they
knock off the healthy, good, friendly, white blood cells as well.
Essentially then, chemotherapy plays havoc with your body. For myself, at the age of 49, I
have seen it create an irregular heartbeat. It has left me immunologically deficient. I
have, like thousands of other cancer patients, endured constipation and diarrhea,
headaches and colds, and a fun type of neuropathy that leaves my fingers, toes, and nerve
endings tingling as if I am just about to get frostbite. Exhaustion and weakness, like
vomiting and occasional incontinence, you take for granted. "After all," the
doctor says, " we are giving you just enough chemo to kill the parasite before it
kills the dog." At least I hope so. If High Times publishes this column posthumously,
you will know the results have not been what the doctor ordered.
Aside from the chemotherapy, the condition of cancer carries with it occasional pain and
fatigue that requires significant medication. I have been prescribed xanax, percocets,
vicodin, iron tablets, tylenols and a host of other pain killers. For nutrition and
appetite-stimulants, I was given a wealth of vitamins. In the hospital, after surgery, I
was given a score of antibiotics to fight infections. But they never gave me a joint.
That, it seems, is illegal. For that, I had to rely on my older brother and friends. Why
would I want pot?
Pot, you see, offsets some of the really rotten side-effects of chemotherapy. If you are
experiencing nausea and take a pill that the doctor gives you, an hour may pass before the
medication kicks in, and candidly, by then, it may be too late. But the THC in pot, which
is smoked, calms you down immediately, without any delay. It not only controls nausea, it
induces you to eat; to have an appetite that the chemotherapy does not allow you to have.
Pot actually does give you the munchies. But when you are a cancer patient, you do not
generally seek out pot recreationally, to get laid, or to reflect on life's experiences.
You use it because it is a medical necessity. And it is a lot less devastating then zofran
or compazine, prescription medications you are allowed to take.
If you are an attorney, as I am, and you openly admit using marijuana, as I do, you can
get a letter from your local bar association grievance committee that you are admitting to
a crime. If you are a citizen, as I still am, using pot exposes you to the sanctions of
the criminal law: arrest, incarceration, jail and bail. Imagine that: first I am
administered about 42 different prescription medications to treat cancer, all combined
which guarantee me nothing. Then I am told that one joint is illegal. It does not compute.
It makes me laugh. The laws are unjust, of course. The rules need to be changed, and I am
willing to break the rules in order to speed the change.
There is a problem, though. People who are sick, as I am, have to spend our time and
energy fighting a deathly illness. We should not have to worry about getting locked up and
jailed because the medications we find useful the law finds illegal. There are thousands
of cancer patients who would be assisted by the medical distribution of marijuana, just as
there are thousands of AIDS patients who know how important marijuana is in fighting the
wasting syndrome. Moreso, patients who have glaucoma, muscular spasticity, and a host of
other unfortunate illnesses know from their own anecdotal experiences that marijuana can
be a loving and healing herb.
The government used to allow sick patients who found pot medically necessary access to the
weed. It was a program called the 'Compassionate Use Protocol', and it let a limited
number of individuals apply for the legal use of marijuana. Killed by the Bush
administration, because it "sent the wrong message", the Clinton administration
continued the ban. Currently, only eight patients in the United States have access to this
protocol. Administration officials, afraid that thousands would apply were the program to
be reopened, have refused to look towards marijuana as medicine. Of course, we already
know that doctors who prescribe marijuana are in jeopardy of losing their federal
prescription licenses. For the new millennium, our government has adopted a policy of
callous disregard instead of compassionate use.
I have adopted a policy of civil disobedience. I do not believe in my government, right or
wrong. I believe that my duty as a citizen is sometimes not to do my duty. You can join me
in this effort by working towards the end of marijuana prohibition. We need your help. For
years, I have been an advocate for others. Maybe, like me, tomorrow you will find that you
are an advocate for yourself. In any case, get on the right side today so you can make a
difference when it counts.
For many patients, it counts right now. There may be no tomorrow.
Norm Kent, who pioneered medical necessity defenses for such renowned patients as Elvy
Mussika, is a Fort Lauderdale writer, talk-show host and attorney who serves on the Board
of Directors of NORML.