I was a good parent living in suburban NJ. I had a classic life – two and a half kids, a dog, and a white picket fence. I was a runner and avid yogi. I had a respected career as a hospice nurse and belonged to the PTO/PTA. I loved my kids more than life and strived to raise responsible, healthy humans that would positively impact the world. I was a good parent.
An injury while working as a hospice nurse altered my life. I suffered a permanent spinal injury. I tumbled into darkness. I lost my career, my wellness, and my passions. I had major surgery, tried countless traditional and complementary therapies, and accrued endless bottles of heavy pharmaceuticals.
All I had left was being a good parent, and even with that, I struggled. I endured brutal side-effects of prescribed medications while simultaneously suffering from excruciating pain.
Yet, when medical marijuana was suggested, I balked. I would not – could not – be a pothead. I was a parent, a good parent. Good parents can’t use pot, can they?
My desperation grew. My own mother helped me find the courage to try medical marijuana.
When I experienced incredible (nothing short of miraculous) medical results, I knew I had to share my story with other parents. Marijuana did not make me a bad parent. Marijuana made me a better parent than I’ve ever been before!
Good parents do use marijuana.
For more posts from Jessie Gill, visit her blog, flusteredmom.com