Where Is My Medicine

Where’s My Medicine? Making Sense of the Senseless

Getting high isn’t the point for me. Getting comfortable is.

Cannabis softens the edges of chronic pain from spinal stenosis—a constant signal that never shuts off. It helps relieve the dystonia.  It doesn’t erase it, but it lets my body unclench enough to function a little better at least and get through the day.

I’ve tried the usual prescriptions: muscle relaxers that knock you out, anti-inflammatories that quietly damage your stomach and kidneys, drugs like Neurontin and Cymbalta with side-effect lists longer than their benefits. Some I can't use, some I still use because I can't use cannabis constantly and cost prohibitive and it alone really doesn't do everything. Cannabis isn’t perfect, but it helps without turning me into a zombie.

Compared to alcohol (which kills thousands every year) or opioids, cannabis is remarkably benign. Zero overdose deaths. It's really honestly even safer than acetaminophen.  Arguably acetaminophen doesn't have a high risk of abuse, but it has literally killed people going against medical advice.  

There's a cough suppressant dextromestrophen that's relatively easy to get your hands on and some kids are dumb enough to shut their kidneys down having fun with it.  The point is here, people are getting locked up for something that is pretty much harmless disproportionately controlled.

People have been using cannabis for centuries. Mountains of personal accounts and emerging scientific evidence for medical benefit.

So why is it still so hard to access reliably?

Even Kratom was successfully defended by pain patients.

The Slow, Confusing Grind of Federal Change

People keep expecting cannabis to become fully legal “overnight” because of some headline about an executive order or rescheduling push. 

That's not exactly what happened.

The Biden administration kicked off a review process in 2022 to consider moving cannabis from Schedule I (“no accepted medical use, high abuse potential”) to Schedule III. Then I guess they just dragged their feet. That review turned into a formal proposal in 2024. As of late 2025, it’s still not final. The DEA has to hold hearings, respond to comments, and issue a final rule—and even then, Schedule III means it’s still federally controlled, just less severely.

An executive order can direct agencies to study or prioritize something, but it can’t rewrite the Controlled Substances Act by itself. Congress would have to do that for full descheduling or legalization.

Meanwhile, states have been running their own medical and recreational programs for years. Hemp-derived products (under 0.3% Delta-9 THC) exploded after the 2018 Farm Bill, creating a gray market that’s now getting squeezed by new rules around total THC and synthetic conversion. Something was changed at the end of the government shutdown with the bills that they signed before releasing funds. I haven't even fully wrapped my mind around exactly how the law applies, but it's going to restrict access further.

Law enforcement, dispensaries, patients—everyone is confused. What are the new rules? When are they enforceable? Cops in one state might look the other way; in another, they’re still making arrests. Labs scramble to keep up with testing rules that change yearly. The whole system lags behind both science and public opinion.

The plant didn’t change. My pain didn’t change. Only the bureaucratic definition keeps shifting.

I Just Want Consistent Medicine

I’m not chasing a high. I’m chasing a day without my nervous system hijacking every moment.

Some people use coffee to focus, beta-blockers to calm performance anxiety, SSRIs to stabilize mood and nobody thinks twice. Those are helpful but really only go so far. I use cannabis to regulate pain and stay present. Ironically, it helps me think more clearly and reflect more deeply—not less.

Yet society still treats it like a moral failing or a punchline.

For kids with severe epilepsy, CBD can be life-changing—sometimes the only thing that stops relentless seizures. For adults like me, it’s a tool that helps us function. This comes from the cannabis plant. We need to protect access for medicine.

The rules should be straightforward: keep it clean, away from the kids that shouldnt have it, and available to adults who need or want it.

Instead, we’re stuck in limbo—watching agencies acknowledge the science while Congress clings to decades-old reefer madness rhetoric.

So, Where’s My Medicine?

It’s not a rhetorical question.

It’s what millions of patients keep asking while the gears grind slowly, definitions dance, and relief remains just out of reliable reach.

I’ll keep adapting, reading the fine print, and try to stay out of trouble

But I’m still asking:

Where ’s my medicine? 

Today it's a choice Create A Cig, Exotic Smoke And Vape, New Fine Arts, Bee Hippy or Gas The Pipe. There are others that are not worth mentioning.