Grant McGee: Medical marijuana not worth risks

Grant McGee

If you could use medical marijuana would you?

This was something that crossed my mind recently after the eye doctor told me I have glaucoma.

“Hey, if you have glaucoma that means you qualify for medical marijuana in New Mexico.” It was my friend The Holy Man offering up his first thoughts upon hearing of my newfound condition.

Glaucoma is about high pressures inside your eyeballs. Research indicates marijuana reduces that pressure.

I thought medical pot would be homogenized, pasteurized and pre-processed; all the punch taken out of it. I have found out the opposite is true: It’s strong stuff.

In my head I brushed aside all the obvious legal, philosophical and moral thoughts about the stuff and pondered going through my work day under the influence of medical marijuana.

Would I load more Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix and Allman Brothers music in my mp3 player?

What would my bicycle riding be like? Would I be pedaling, pedaling, pedaling — thinking I was going 30 miles-per-hour only to be passed by an old guy out for his morning walk?

Would I spend time at my day job pondering the layers of my thumbnail? Would I find great amusement at the daily reports? Then there’s the bicycle shop: Would I just stare all afternoon at a rotating bicycle wheel?

Marijuana makes you hungry. What about the munchies? I can see myself, head stuck in the fridge, inhaling mass quantities of peanut butter, potato chips, corn chips, green chile dip, ice cream, cookies and such.

Would I start sleeping in my VW van parked out front of the house?

No, I think I’ll leave the medical marijuana alone.

I informed The Holy Man of my decision.

“That’s too bad,” he said. “I could’ve helped you smoke it. You know, for quality control purposes only.”