About Barrow journal. (Winder, Ga.) 2008-2016 | View Entire Issue (Jan. 27, 2016)
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 27, 2016 BARROW JOURNAL PAGE 5A A different take on Glenn Frey’s death January has certainly been a terrible month, having lost great artists David Bowie, Alan Rickman and now Eagles' founder Glenn Frey. I know I just wrote a column dis cussing Alan Rickman, but given the circumstances of Frey's pass ing I cannot keep silent. As I have discussed many a time, I have been battling Rheu matoid Arthritis just shy of five years. When the news broke that Glenn Frey had passed away from complications from Rheu matoid Arthritis, my online sup port group was all abuzz and panicking from this revelation. Here we have a famous face dying from a disease nearly 1.3 million Americans suf fer from, according to the latest numbers. When I heard the news Frey died from rheumatoid arthritis, ulcer colitis and pneumonia my heart sank, as did thou sands of other worried RA patients. What does this mean for us and our futures? Frey battled RA for fifteen years, and shortly after his death news broke that the medication to treat RA was a factor. It’s a complicated feeling for those of us with RA. On the positive side, our disease is now in the limelight, raising awareness and hopefully aiding in the search for a cure. We have millions around the world reading his cause of death and learning this disease is more than just arthritis. Unfortunately there have been some reporters who have understated what RA is, brushing it off as “just arthritis” and that is a big misconception. I had hoped those working in a field built upon facts would take just a moment to get theirs straight. It does not help our situation when those in a prominent place in media do not give the correct informa tion. No wonder so many people don't trust the media. On the negative side, Frey’s passing has caused us to reflect on our own treatments. For fifteen years, Frey fought a valiant battle against this autoimmune disease. The medications he was taking have not been released as of writing this. Lawyers had advised the list of medications not be released, and that of course has panicked our community. We sit here and ask ourselves, “was it the old chemotherapy drug Methotrexate?” or “God I hope it wasn’t the biologic Humi- ra or Embrel.” We look at our own treatments and worry that we will lose our fights to this disease at too young an age. Of course death from RA com plications is rare, and we should rest assured that our chances are very low. The problem is that the medications we take suppress our immune systems, causing our bodies to be unable to fight back. That is why he developed the ulcer colitis and pneumonia. The medications lawyers don’t want to release suppressed his immune system and allowed for these illnesses to take a gripping hold in his frail body. That is what we fear. We fear our bodies will be too weak from our medications that we won’t have the fight in us against these less severe illnesses. Every time we swallow those pills, we worry what it will do to our bodies in the long run. Every time I force that Humira needle into my leg, I pray it won't lead to complications years ahead. Being so young and fighting a lifelong disease takes a different kind of mettle that I'm still trying to find. Every passing is hard for someone. I can imagine Rickman's and Bowie’s fights with cancer affected those who are or have fought the same fight. You might be questioning your treatment, terrified of it coming back or losing the war. Those of us battling autoimmune diseases are reacting the same way to Frey’s death. It has brought up discussions of change in treatment, hope for public awareness, and the undying search for a cure. My heart is with Frey’s family and loved ones as well as the thousands of RA warriors I have befriended who have been affected by this news. Jessica Brown is the staff photographer for the Barrow Journal. You can reach her at picsbyjessical @ gmail.com. Chili Nights Fewer things please my palate than a steaming-hot bowl of chili on a cold night. Topped with shredded cheese, sour cream, and saltines on the side, with a giant glass of Diet Coke. Almost heaven. It was a cold winter weekend in the late 90s, when I remembered that it was my turn to feed the kiddos at the Sunday night gath ering at church. My mom offered to do the cooking for me, but after polite ly thanking her and declining, I forged ahead with my giant pot of chili. Tons of ground beef, spices, onions (and tears) later, I finally had a nice, giant pot of chili simmering on the stove. Only problem, it was around 2:00 a.m. before it was done. Too hot to put in the fridge, and too long to leave sitting out. The crock-pot theory seemed reasonable, so I turned the stove down to the lowest setting, and put my tired self to bed. The next morning it smelled delicious! I left the stove on while we went to church, figuring I had backed myself into a culinary corner that would require simmer ing it all afternoon in order to be hot and fresh for the 4:00 feast. Something happened while I was at church. It is the dangdest thing, and I still have no idea what happened. When we walked in from church around 12:30, the house smelled horrible. Like a six-month- old litter box in a very damp room. I removed the lid to find a heinous, frothy sub stance floating on top. After stirring, I took a bite — which made me gag and immedi ately spit it out. Must have been some bad tomatoes or something — but it was a giant, simmering pot of toxic waste. By now it was 1:00, and I had three hours to come up with something to feed the masses. Sadly, they had to settle for corn dogs, which my own daughter despises, and wouldn’t eat. I had to remove the hot mess from the house, so I set the pot out in the back yard, thinking maybe the neighborhood dogs would relieve me of the nastiness. Somewhere around, oh. I’d say... March, I remembered the pot, and went outside to retrieve it. To my surprise, the chili was still there. Not only that, it had rained and was filled to the top with the rain water, and there were dead creatures floating about in the water. I checked to make sure I had left my fence gates open to allow the dogs to dine. Indeed, they were open. Hmmm. I guess the dogs saw the dead bugs floating inside and decid ed it wasn't safe for canine consumption, either. Then around, oh, I think it was April, I made a mental note to myself that I must check the pot again, and bring it inside. But we know how mental notes work. One afternoon in probably May.... I was sitting at my desk working, when sud denly I heard Whitney come rushing into the house gagging and screaming, "Get it off... get it OFFFF!!!” Horrified, I was afraid there was a snake, or spider, or space aliens (oh, those screams!) attacking her. Once she got to me, I realized that she had big globs of the radioactive chili on her shirt. Holes had started to form in the shirt, and it was disin tegrating before my eyes. Puffs of smoke were filling the room. She was gagging and screaming. We were both gagging. The smell was akin to what I imagine a forensic crime scene might be. Seems she had been in the yard on her bike, and had accidentally disturbed the pot, causing the “chili” to slosh up onto her shirt. Of course, the shirt had to be incinerated, and she took the longest shower of her life. We carefully examined her delicate skin to be sure she hadn’t suffered any bums or skin deterio ration. Thankfully, she suffered no skin trauma. It became very clear to me that the neighborhood animals and Mother Nature were not going to dispose of the mess for me, and I would have to take care of the disaster myself. I donned my hazmat suit, protective eyewear, and gloves, and set about the cleanup/decontamination project. The pot was carefully placed into my wheelbarrow, and very, very slowly, was transported to the ravine that ran at the back of my property. When the pot hit the bottom, a large cloud of glowing, green vapor arose from the ravine, and before my eyes, the vegetation started to wither and die. Nearby trees bent over and touched the ground. Birds flying overhead suddenly fell from the sky. Little critters were scrambling in all directions, trying to flee their Hiroshima. Back in my yard, the grass where the pot had stood was gone. My spring flowers had failed to bloom. But at least the weapon of mass destruction had been relocated to another area on the prop erty. Several years later, I sold that house and moved back to Statham. My parents were helping me dispose of dirt from old flower pots, dead plants, and we were throwing the debris down into the denuded ravine. Sud denly, my mom turns to my dad and says, “Look, hun, there’s a POT down in the gully! Go down there and get it, and we'll clean it up for Cat!!” Umm. No, thanks, mom!!!!! Indeed, nothing tastes better on a cold winter evening than a nice bowl of hot chili. Strangely enough, though, everyone seems previously engaged whenever I invite them over to eat some delicious homemade chili!! Do you have a cooking disaster story? I'd love to hear it!! E-mail me at bencath@aol. com to share yours!! And maybe I'll e-mail you back with another of mine, because, unfortunately, I have quite a few to share... Cathy Watkins Bennett is a Barrow Coun ty native and a graduate of WBHS. Send comments about this column to bencath@ aol.com. cathy watkins bennett My protest marijuana is growing The pot is in the pot. I’m growing marijuana. As I announced three weeks ago, I’m growing a marijuana plant as an act of civil disobedience to bring attention to a much-needed medical law in the Georgia Legislature. Last year, the Legislature approved allowing certain medical patients to have up to 20 ounces of medical cannabis oil. But the state didn’t create a legal way for patients to get the oil in the state. This year, another bill is pending in Atlanta that would allow a handful of state regu lated companies to grow, har vest and produce the medi cal cannabis oil in Georgia for those patients. The state House supports the idea, but the state Senate is unclear and Gov. Nathan Deal has spoken against it. As most readers know, this is personal for me. I have a son who has suffered from a major seizure disorder for 15 years. I don’t know if cannabis oil could help him, but as a parent, I want all options available. To withhold that option, or make it unreason ably difficult, is simply cruel. When I first began this medical pot pro test, I intended to just grow a regular mar ijuana plant from seeds available locally. But I decided instead to grow a special medical strain of the plant similar to what would be grown if this year’s legislation is approved. After looking around, I ordered a mar ijuana seed from a European company known as MED GOM 1.0. It’s a small plant suited to grow indoors and it grows quickly, producing flowers in around nine weeks. The seed was mailed to me from Europe three weeks ago. I ordered an LED grow light and heating pad from Amazon.com to accommodate my growing efforts. Last Tuesday, it all arrived. I watered the dirt, put in the seed, then set it all up in a south-facing window so it will get as much daylight as possible. Saturday morning, a small shoot popped up out of the dirt. It’s now about 1/8” high as it reaches up for the light. I don’t have a green thumb. I hope I don’t kill it. If it needs help, I’ll put on an old Grateful Dead album and let Jerry Garcia play music for it. I don’t intend to harvest my marijuana plant for consumption — I’m growing it as a symbol of hope for the thousands of people in Georgia who might benefit from use of the cannabis oil. I’m also growing it as a protest aimed at those who irrational ly oppose allowing cultivation of medical marijuana in the state. I’ve learned a lot during the last three weeks after I first announced my inten tion to grow marijuana. I’ve had a huge response from people all across the state and from around the country who under stand and support what I’m trying to do. Every single comment, email and phone call I’ve received has been positive and supportive (see facing page). Not one per son has contacted me to voice opposition to the production of medical cannabis oil. The protest has also gotten a lot of outside media coverage. Several radio and television stations have interviewed me and other newspapers have also picked up coverage of my little protest marijuana. Dozens of websites and blogs have linked to my articles. There is a huge groundswell of support in the state for this legislation. People understand the difference between medi cal use and recreational use of marijuana — they strongly support medical use. If Georgia leaders fail to act on making medical cannabis oil available this year, it will be a huge embarrassment to the state. Georgia officials say they want the state to become a leader in biotechnology, and opposition to this kind of medical research would make a mockery of that. I’ve also learned over the last three weeks that there is a huge underground market for cannabis oil. Just Google it and dozens of places purporting to sell medi cal cannabis will pop up on your screen. But therein lies a key issue in the legis lative debate. A lot of these online oils are of uncertain quality. Many appear to be scams that appeal to people desperate for a cure to dozens of illnesses. When someone buys cannabis oil online, he may get snake oil rather than the real thing. Much of it could be “moonshine mar ijuana,” not medical canna bis that is tested for quality control. Which is why Georgia leaders should approve the regulated production of cannabis oil in the state. Not only does that make getting the oil here legal and easier, it also protects Geor gia citizens desperate for help from being scammed by unscrupulous hucksters. Producing medical can nabis oil is not easy. The strain of plant, how it is grown and how it is cultivated affects the quality of medical oil. Growing cannabis today is a highly sophisticated botanical process; it’s not the old “weed-in-the-woods” from my youth in the 1970s. For those needing cannabis oil for med ical reasons, quality and consistency is critical, just like with any other medica tion. A state regulated process would help ensure that. But there are some who are opposed to the state allowing medical marijuana production. The state sheriff’s association and prosecuting council association are lobbying against it in the legislature. That has spooked some state Senators and Gov. Nathan Deal who has voiced opposition to the plan. But this is a medical issue between doctors, parents and patients. This is not a criminal issue. As far as I’m concerned, the state’s sheriffs and prosecutors have no standing in the matter. Doctors don’t lobby the legislature about law enforce ment concerns and the state’s sheriffs and prosecutors should not be lobbying about medical concerns. A final thought. Making this cannabis oil available now to Georgians isn’t the end, it’s just a beginning. In the coming years as more medical research is done on cannabis, we will know more about the plant’s compounds for medical use. Because of overly strict federal regula tions, true medical research of marijuana is just now beginning. But those suffering from seizures and other serious neurological disorders today can’t wait another decade for all of that to happen. They need help — and hope — now. And since cannabis is relatively harmless — nobody has ever overdosed on marijuana — there’s no real reason to not make its medical use available now. Georgia needs to finish what it began last year when it approved the possession of medical cannabis oil. This year, the state needs to make quality oil available here in Georgia for those patients. That’s what Rep. Allen Peake is attempt ing to do with HB 722 currently pending in the state Legislature. His fellow House members have lined up strongly in support of his efforts. Now it’s up to the state Senate and Gov. Nathan Deal to also get on board and approve this legislation. There is no legitimate reason to oppose it. Opposition is more about an outdated stigma than reality. While we await the outcome of Rep. Peake’s legislation, I’ll continue to grow my little marijuana plant as a political statement about this debate. (If you want to follow the progress of my marijuana plant, go to dadsmedical- potplant.com where you can see a live video feed.) Mike Buffington is co-publisher of the Barrow Journal He can be reached at mike @ mains treetnews. com. mike buffington OFF AND GROWING Barrow Journal co-found er and co-publisher Mike Buffington is growing this special strain of marijuana plant from which canni- bas oil is obtained to help those who suffer from seizures and other medical disorders. “I’m growing it as a symbol of hope for the thousands of people who might benefit from the use of the cannibas oil,” Buffington said. “I’m also growing it as a protest aimed at those who irratio nally oppose allowing culti vation of medical marijuana in the state.”
