I am in the midst of a major transition. A few years ago, I took a job as a cannabis nurse. I felt burnt out by psychiatric nursing after having dispensed opiates and narcotics to patients that showed up monthly with little to no improvement in their health, despite years of trying. Feeling indifferent about being a nurse took over my entire attitude. At the time, I was living far from my hometown because of an attempt at living in a recreational-cannabis state. Unfortunately I ended up working in a non-recreational state. Inspired by my loneliness and defeat, I decided to look for work back home in Florida. 

It was 2019 and Florida’s medical marijuana program had really taken off. When I found a clinical position for medical personnel, preferably a nurse, to provide treatment and education on the endocannabinoid system, I freaked out. I interviewed and they were excited that I was a fan of cannabis and that I could also give vitamin injections, so they hired me. I was in shock. My life changed in seconds as I began the transition from psych nurse to cannabis nurse.

What this meant for me was that I could be open about my cannabis use. I never used it when I was a nurse because, obviously, it was illegal, and it didn’t feel morally appropriate in my heart. So, I proudly obtained my very own state-approved medical marijuana license. Having the ability to speak freely about cannabis and the ways it eased my anxiety, cured my migraines and calmed my muscles was unreal to experience. I was in this perfect little world with my patients, discussing the best oils, topicals, patches, oral sprays, nasal sprays, edibles and - Florida’s favorite way to consume - flower strains. It meant the world to me that people were discovering a new treatment method that actually worked, and that I was a part of their discovery process. Patients would rush back to the clinic just to tell me about their favorite strain or administration method. I felt like a nurse rockstar.

All of this was blinding me to the reality outside of the clinic. When I spoke with other nurse friends and my family about cannabis, they usually had a face of confusion mixed with a smile. I knew they thought I had taken a nose-dive in my profession, but I always made to sure to keep in mind what Florence Nightingale said about administering care: 

“I will abstain from whatever is deleterious and mischievous, and will not take or knowingly administer any harmful drug.” 

I have used cannabis as medicine and I know how it has healed my broken body. I am just like any other patient that has gone through a rocky life; the type of life where you can’t even tell how the emotional pain differentiates from your sore shoulders. Cannabis has healed it all for me. My pain is managed and I have stopped using OTC gastro-intestinal aids because my anxiety is normal. I don’t use SSRIs anymore, which is great because I happened to be one of those patients where continual trials of different brands did not seem to help my depression or anxiety. The cure for anxiety in my case is CBD. I have a perfect ratio of CBD that I combine with a microdose of THC oil to keep me focused on the present and far away from inflammatory pain. 

I recently left the clinic I had been working at as a cannabis nurse due to the economic strains of driving an hour away, as well as other post-pandemic abruptions. This is why I know I am at an important transition point in my life. I could go back to a regular nursing job where I have to give up cannabis and education, or stay involved with Mother Mary Jane. 

I am pretty sure I will continue this beautiful marriage with cannabis, as I see the way it connects me with my personal purpose and continual need for pain management. Within the cannabis community you get the sense that cannabis is the future. So, perhaps I can remain a nurse, but this time I will visit patients with my medical bong and dab crash-cart, STAT.