Ever since I had been diagnosed with muscular dystrophy, I had become somewhat of a recluse.
I didn’t want people to see me in a wheelchair.
I had always been athletic. I played softball, ran track and was the captain of our beach volleyball team. I was devastated when it finally hit me that because of muscular dystrophy, I was never going to be able to be involved in sports again. One of the worst parts of my ailment was that I had become depressed ever since I found myself in a wheelchair. I couldn’t face the fact that I was no longer going to be able to be active. I wasn’t going to be me again; chasing a ball while in my bikini or feeling the wind and sun on my face, as I ran through the park or on the track. I sat in my room and cried for days. My sister suggested I try medical marijuana She thought with the use of medical marijuana, I could get help with the depression and possibly become productive again. I didn’t want to hear any of her Little Mary Sunshine routine, and I told her to get out of my house. She asked if I was going to kick her out. I went to stand up and I fell. When she said I gave up and put myself in the wheelchair because I felt sorry for myself, I said I hated her. She helped me up from the floor and into my recliner. She called a doctor she knew and told him about my depression and muscular dystrophy. Three weeks later, she took me into a medical cannabis dispensary. I wasn’t ready to give up yet.