Pubdate: Thu, 14 Mar 2002
Source: Metro (CA)
Copyright: 2002 Metro Publishing Inc.
Contact:  http://www.mapinc.org/media/261
Website: http://www.metroactive.com/metro/
Author: Kelly Luker
Note: From the March 14-20, 2002 issue of Metro
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/mmj.htm (Cannabis - Medicinal)
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?115 (Cannabis - California)
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/women.htm (Women)

THE SECRET GARDEN

Like Oz, it's at the end of a winding road. And like the Emerald City
itself, the color green radiates in a shimmering glow. But Dorothy
never got a whiff of anything like this. Long before that radiant
green comes into view, the pungent odor of marijuana plants telegraphs
their presence around the final bend.

This garden of Cannabis sativa, Cannabis indica and Cannabis hybrids
hidden in the Santa Cruz Mountains has spared many hours of suffering
for patients struggling with cancer, AIDS, multiple sclerosis,
glaucoma and a host of other painful--sometimes terminal--diseases. It
is the wellspring for Wo/Men's Alliance for Medical Marijuana, one of
the most successful medical marijuana programs in the country.

Better known as WAMM -- http://www.wamm.org/ --  the program was born
out of founder Valerie Corral's attempts to alleviate her epilepsy
symptoms. Despite numerous medications, Valerie's epilepsy was so
severe that she could not be left alone. In 1974, she discovered that
marijuana could accomplish what a cabinet full of drugs could not.
Valerie and her husband, Mike Corral, began growing their own pot,
passing on the excess to others who were ill.

For the next 18 years the Corrals stuck to cultivating a few plants a
year to supply themselves and friends. That was until 1992, when they
were arrested once, then twice, for cultivation. Both times, their
defense rested on their right to grow marijuana for medicinal use. As
word of their efforts grew, so did the idea for a medical marijuana
program.

Following the passage of Proposition 215 in 1996, a variety of medical
marijuana programs or "pot clubs" had sprung up throughout California.
However, those programs charged for their services and product, often
as much or more than it would cost to purchase marijuana on the
streets. And various local and federal law enforcement challenges to
Proposition 215 resulted in many of the pot clubs being shut down,
including one in San Jose and several others in the Bay Area.

WAMM is unique among its peers in that it is a collective, where
members volunteer their time in exchange for the marijuana. For those
members too ill to help out--and there are many--there is still no
charge. Each week, more than 100 members line up for baggies of pot,
pot brownies, cannabis tincture, cannabis liniment and "mother's
milk," a soy-based liquid for patients too ill to eat or smoke. The
only requirement is a doctor's prescription and space availability in
the program. Fortunately, new slots open up on a regular basis.
Regrettably, it is usually because another patient has died.

Although the program began under the regime of the conservative former
Santa Cruz County Sheriff Al Noren, its growth has been possible
because of the working relationship established between the Corrals
and Sheriff Mark Tracy. Both the Sheriff's Department and the district
attorney's office have turned a blind eye to marijuana growers and
users who can show legitimate medical cause.

But although the Santa Cruz populace and its local authorities offer
an unusually tolerant atmosphere for medical marijuana, that has been
little solace to WAMM in the face of a threatened crackdown by the
Bush administration.

WAMM not only survives, it flourishes, just like the secret garden.
Pot plants are annuals. They begin life about the size of birdseed
and, before the year is out, will reach a height of 6 to 8 feet, with
trunks as thick as a man's arm. In those 10 months, each plant will be
lovingly tended, closely watched and carefully groomed so it can reach
its full potential. Then the harvest comes, and it's over.

The Corrals have lost count of how many terminal patients have come to
the program seeking relief before they die.

The cannabis helps, no doubt. But there's something more, something
else that allows members to flourish perhaps one last time before the
harvest.

"WAMM is not just about medicine," says one member. "It's about
caregiving, dignity and compassion."

I've been a WAMM member since 1997. The marijuana helps with the
neuropathy, insomnia, diarrhea, muscle spasms and loss of appetite
from HIV symptoms. When I came to WAMM, it was like being welcomed to
a death reality. It was really harsh. I didn't know how many more
times I wanted to get to know people who were going to die. But what I
needed was the medical marijuana, and all that was asked of me was to
show up.

Now the president says that anyone who smokes a joint is a terrorist.
It's horrifying that the president can say something that awful.

When it happens to your own, you will get marijuana for them. You will
do what it takes to help them eat, to help them get out of pain.The
sick and dying are only asking one thing, to have what they need to
treat themselves.

I love the community of WAMM, but with the political climate what it
is, I have to think how much of a stand I want to take. But I'll keep
taking a stand.

When we grew our first marijuana in 1974, I didn't know the difference
between male and female plants. I started reading books and discovered
that 90 percent of the information about growing marijuana was bunk.
So I tried everything I read and reduced it down to discovering my own
methods. It's very much an art and science. There's an intuitive
quality to it. I can look at plants and make an educated guess that
it's something I want to use as a pollinator.

What we've generally found is that the Cannabis indica strain works
better for pain and body discomfort. The Cannabis sativa works better
for nausea suppression and appetite stimulation. The indica has more
of a tendency to put people asleep. The sativa tends to wake people
up. These are just generalities, of course.

I've been with WAMM four years. I'm a paraplegic, paralyzed from the
chest down from a motorcycle accident in 1992. Cannabis controls
muscle spasms. A lot of the wheelchair users were using this stuff. I
was always telling them, "You're just a bunch of stoners."

One day I woke up in the fetal tuck; I was really spastic that day. A
friend came by and burned one with me and I could actually sit up
without being thrown out of my chair from the spasms. I said, "This
stuff really works," and he said, "Duh."

It was a little epiphany.

I use cannabis on a daily basis. I use it in baked goods and a
tincture form which I put in warm milk. Since being a WAMM member,
I've been able to secure work as a personal trainer at a local health
club. Fitness is my first love. I've been studying fitness, anatomy
and nutrition for 25-plus years.

I've lost hundreds of friends. The loss doesn't become easier, but
it's the greatest time to be in a person's life. It's an honor.

A lot of people, they come to this place where they're not running
from the Grim Reaper. They turn around and begin this courtship. Death
becomes the lover. In this courtship, so much of the true nature of
the person comes to life. It's the most excellent training I could
have. Maybe it will help me greet my own death--to court it as a lover
and not run in fear.

I volunteer my time as a caregiver.

Everyone is expected to work, but many of them are too sick. I'm very
healthy, so I can.

There's a lot of people a lot younger than me, but they're so sick.
There's people who come up to the farm in wheelchairs to work. There's
always stuff for everybody to do. We go up one Saturday a week and
work. During the planting and harvesting season, we try to go up a
couple of times a week. Mostly it's help working in the garden to keep
that going and do volunteer work to raise money. There's a lot of
people that need help.

Sometimes just a kind word helps a lot.

I've been with WAMM for five years. When I was diagnosed with
glaucoma, I was taking drops for my eyes, which was just making it
worse. I heard that marijuana would relieve pressure on my eyes.

I was raised on a strawberry farm. When I went over to the farm the
first time, I'd never seen anything like it. It impressed me so much,
and the people were so friendly. Two years ago, they asked me if I
would consider working for them part-time.

What I normally do is make marijuana into different forms for
ingestion: tincture, hash--ways I can condense it and get the most out
of it.

I've put it into caramel candy, ice cream. One little scoop will do
ya.

That's one of the biggest requests at the member parties: Did you make
the ice cream?

Being in the AIDS epidemic, I've been to a lot of memorials. I'm a
physician living with AIDS. In 1995, I came down with dysentery and
ended up on intravenous fluids. I developed the wasting syndrome,
going to the bathroom 15 to 20 times a day, going to bed with diapers.
Marijuana saved my life. It allowed me to eat. it kept my spirits up.

I'm both the patient and the doctor. I run a free clinic in the Bay
Area. I started a mobile clinic to make home visits.

For better or worse, I can live on SSI and cheap rent. But most
doctors with families are very fearful of having their license taken
away [if they prescribe medical marijuana]. Also, many aren't attuned
to the substance itself.

They've been thoroughly indoctrinated for the past three generations
with vicious propaganda against a 5,000-year-old Chinese herbal remedy.

When you get into the history, it's fascinating to see that
Prohibition never ended, it just switched from alcohol to marijuana.

I found out I had AIDS in 1984. I didn't have any energy with the AIDS
drugs, and I wasn't getting better. So I refused to take the drug
cocktails, and I feel much better now. I feel more alive. The
marijuana keeps me with a much better outlook on life.

I work in the garden when I can do manual labor. I can't do a lot of
standing. The land needs to be prepared. Some of our land is full of
poison oak, so I go and tear it out.

We had a little building that had been here for years for our tools,
but we needed more. We all got together and worked and donated to
raise enough to put in a building twice as big. We now have a cement
floor, windows, an enclosed area for drying our medicine. It dries
much better in an enclosed area.

Right before the harvest, we have to trim the leaves and get it ready
to cut down and dry. It takes several hours per plant to get them ready.

The fan leaves are the first that come off. Right before we take the
plants down, we take all the leaves off and all that's left is the
bud. The leaves are used for the milk products, the muffins, the tincture.

The majority of the THC is concentrated in the sinsemilla, or female
bud. The male has hardly any medical value. Each plant will give us
about 2 pounds of buds, on average.

We've had so many people in WAMM die, we've learned to accept that
pain and suffering are part of this world, that death is part of this
life. I would have to say the biggest change in me since working with
WAMM, more than acceptance, is that these bodies are impermanent. We
are transitory.

Working with WAMM has allowed me to accept my own mortality on a much
deeper level. I love life--I'm going to try to live as long as
possible--but I do know that somewhere along the line I'm going to
die.

The size of WAMM is determined by the amount of pot available. We have
a one-time harvest, which is in October or November. What we harvest
there will last the whole year. It's all volunteer, so that's the
biggest reason we don't expand.

This is my third season with WAMM. I had a stroke in 1997, and I have
neuropathy. I use cannabis for pain management, migraines and nausea.
I've watched people blossom up here at the farm, from being really
sick and not having a very good prognosis to getting healthier and
strong. It's therapeutic just being out in the fresh air and
interacting with other people.

You are who you are, and the disease becomes something in the
background. We become people. Marijuana makes me feel better. It
doesn't make me escape this life;

I just feel better. That's not a bad thing.

Note: Behind the lines at a medical marijuana farm where the operation is
successful even when the patients die.

About Jean Hanamoto

Jean Hanamoto has been working in watercolors and photography for the
last 13 years. Since her husband, George Hanamoto, and she became
members of WAMM in 1998, Jean has explored marijuana as art, both
through photography and computer-enhanced photography. Her work has
won awards at the Santa Clara County Fair and the Gilroy City Art Show.

Information about Jean Hanamoto and her art can be found at:
http://www.marijuana-art.com
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MAP posted-by: Derek