Pubdate: Wed, 14 Jul 2010 Source: Philadelphia Weekly (PA) Copyright: 2010 Philadelphia Weekly Contact: http://www.philadelphiaweekly.com/ Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/1091 Author: Jonathan Valania Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/find?253 (Cannabis - Medicinal - U.S.) Let's Be Blunt, Gov. Christie: WHAT'S UP WITH N.J.'S MEDICAL MARIJUANA LAW? Is the administration trying to pull the plug on New Jersey's medical marijuana law? Of all the shitty ways to die, ALS is arguably the shittiest. Also known as Lou Gehrig's disease, ALS stands for amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, and in short it is slow death brought on by the steady and methodical withering of the nerves that control your muscles. First, you can't button your shirt. Then, you can't walk and eventually, you can't breathe. The cruelest irony is that the disease does not affect higher brain function, and so even at the very end, you are a fully present mind trapped in a lifeless body, a ghost in a dead machine. Upon diagnosis, most victims live three to five years. A small percentage live for up to 10 years, but only with the assistance of a ventilator, and few would call that living. There is no cure. The hardest part of enduring ALS-harder than the burning ass, the complete helplessness and the terrible return to infancy-is maintaining the will to live. That's what marijuana did for Diane Riportella-it made her not want to die. "It alleviates the pain and it helps me eat because I have no appetite," says 54-year-old Riportella, lying in her bed on the second floor of the upscale home she shares with her husband in one of the tonier Zip codes of Egg Harbor, N.J. "But more importantly, it puts a smile on my face and makes me at peace with all this," she says, gesturing toward the vast array of pill bottles on her night stand and the tank of oxygen with the thick, white accordioned snake that connects it to the respirator mask she has removed to answer a reporter's questions. "It makes me feel like I could live another day with this disease." She asks her husband to sit her upright and frowns as she shows off her limp, withering limbs that hang off her body like wilted branches. It wasn't always like this. Before she was diagnosed three years ago, Riportella used to be a fitness trainer at the gym where she met her husband, Paul, 13 years her junior. "Yeah, she's kind of the original cougar," he says with a smile. She ran marathons to raise money for leukemia and breast cancer research, raising nearly $200,000 over the years by her reckoning. She was always helping out others in need. She even cooked eggs for clean-up workers at Ground Zero after 9/11. Advancing the cause of medical marijuana will likely be her last fight. And she has fought hard. Riportella has been outspoken about her use of medical marijuana and testified before the New Jersey Legislature, along with other terminally ill advocates for medical marijuana, imploring lawmakers to pass the Compassionate Use Act, which former Gov. John Corzine signed into law Jan. 18 as one of his last official acts as governor. "That's what turned the tide-the stories of patients," says Roseanne Scotti, Director of the Drug Policy Alliance NJ, which advocates for a more rational and humane response to the drug issue, and which played a key role in recruiting terminally ill patients who were self-medicating with marijuana to testify before the Legislature. "You can get all the peer-reviewed scientific journals arguing about molecules and receptors, but that's not nearly as persuasive as a person with MS standing in front of you telling how nothing worked until a doctor told them off-the-record to try marijuana and it brought them instant relief from their pain and suffering." The law was scheduled to go into effect on the first day of July and if Corzine was still governor, almost everyone who has been involved in the passage of the law agrees, that timeline would have been met. But last fall, voters replaced Corzine with Republican Chris Christie, a former federal prosecutor. New Jersey's Compassionate Use Act has been on the slow train to enactment ever since. Last month, the Christie administration asked for-and was granted by the Legislature-a 90-day extension for implementation. But Riportella, like many advocates for medical marijuana, worries that implementation of the law may be delayed indefinitely. "Any delay will engender more delay," says Ken Wolski, executive director of the Coaltion For Medical Marijuana New Jersey. "My greatest fear is that this is the first of many delays." All eyes are on Jersey, including lawmakers in Harrisburg, where the seeds of medical marijuana legislation have already been planted in committee. If and when New Jersey's Compassionate Use law goes into effect, it will be the most restrictive in the land. The list of medical conditions that would qualify patients is exceedingly short and unrelentingly grim: Cancer, HIV/AIDS, glaucoma, seizure disorders such as epilepsy, Lou Gehrig's disease, multiple sclerosis, muscular dystrophy, severe muscle spasms, inflammatory bowel disease (including Crohn's disease), or any terminal illness if a doctor has determined the patient will die within a year. Qualified patients will be restricted to two ounces per month (by comparison, Washington state allows patients up to 24 ounces every 60 days). Unlike all 13 of the other states that have passed medical marijuana laws, Garden State residents will not be allowed to grow their own. For the sick and cash-strapped, this is the law's biggest bummer. "To allow patients to grow their own medical marijuana is such an advance in medical care, it allows patients to grow their own medicine for pennies," says Wolski, who has been advocating for medical marijuana in New Jersey for 19 years. A retired nurse, Wolski used to work in the state Department of Corrections. Wolski said he first became aware of the gravity of the medical marijuana issue when he was vacationing in Amsterdam. There, he says he met an American expatriate from Kentucky who had served a year in prison for growing his own medical marijuana. The ex-pat was going blind from glaucoma and his doctor had advised him to try pot, which helped stem the onset of blindness. The authorities showed him no sympathy, throwing him in jail and seizing his farm. Shortly thereafter, Wolski took up the cause. The first victory came in 2002 when he persuaded the New Jersey State Nurses Association-which represents 35,000 registered nurses statewide-to sign on to a resolution in favor of medical marijuana. In 2004, medical marijuana was bundled into a needle-exchange bill, but the combination was too unpalatable for the bill ever to get out of committee. "Apparently, dealing with two drug issues at once made their head explode," he says. Still, the winds of public opinion were already shifting. A 2002 poll conducted by Rutgers' Eagleton Institute of Politics that year found that 82 percent of New Jersey residents supported passage of a medical marijuana law. Shortly thereafter, the Drug Policy Alliance joined the fight, and helped corral wider support from the medical community, including the New Jersey Palliative Care Association and the New Jersey Academy of Family Physicians. "The support of the medical community gives you credibility," says Scotti. The Drug Policy Alliance also managed to get TV host Montel Williams, who suffers from MS and is a vocal proponent of medical marijuana, to join the cause. In 2005, state Sen. Nicholas Scutari reintroduced medical marijuana as a standalone bill. Though a Democrat, Scutari is hardly soft on drugs; after all he is a former prosecutor. But he says he saw the light when he learned of a friend with a terminal disease who moved out to California to take advantage of their medical marijuana law. In fact, the early version of Scutari's bill was like California's medical marijuana law. It would have allowed qualified patients to grow up to six plants for personal use-but in the intervening five years it became far more restrictive in the pursuit of bi-partisan support. Legislators were determined to avoid things turning out like the dreaded "wild, wild west," a reference to both California, where until recently pot dispensaries outnumbered Starbucks, and Colorado, where 1,000 people a day are applying for medical marijuana. And pot dispensaries still outnumber Starbucks. Still, some proponents wonder if all the compromises went too far. "In our opinion, it was a much better bill [in 2005]," says Wolski. "It is what it is," Scutari says. "I still think it's a good piece of legislation that will allow sick people access to medical marijuana. As for amending it [to loosen restrictions], we'll see." Other proponents of the law see it as a good first step, a beachhead in hostile territory. "When people see that the sky has not fallen, we can revisit it and open it up more," says Assemblyman Reed Gusciora, one of the law's co-sponsors. "We got the best bill we could get passed, we believe it is a huge step forward that will provide a lot of sick people relief," Scotti says. "Unfortunately it excludes a lot of people-people with chronic pain, people with post-traumatic stress disorder." As it stands now, the Christie administration has until October to come up with the rules and regulations that will govern the manufacture and distribution of medical marijuana in New Jersey. Following that comes a 90-day period of public comment, which would take us into January 2011. Once the regulations are amended and approved, the state would begin registering patients and selecting operators for the six Alternative Treatment Centers called for in the law (exact locations are yet to be determined, but the law calls for two in North Jersey, two in Central Jersey and two in South Jersey, with more to be added if demand is proven to exceed supply). It would take the ATCs a few months to get up and running, and then to begin growing marijuana plants, which can take up to 120 days to mature. By that timeline, assuming there are no further delays, the earliest grievously ill patients like Diane Riportella could get access to medical marijuana without fear of arrest would be about a year from now; a lifetime for someone given just five years to live. "I was actually just in the hospital the other night with a lung cancer patient whose malignancy has spread to his brain and he wants to start using medical marijuana," says Anne Davis, executive director of NORML NJ, a volunteer organization that supports medical marijuana laws. "He doesn't have any more time. He is sick right now and he probably won't be around a year from now." And it would appear that further delays are on the horizon. Last month, the Christie administration floated a trial balloon that would radically rewrite the letter of the law, which calls for medical marijuana to be manufactured and dispensed by private operators. Christie has publicly stated that he would like Rutgers University to be the sole grower of medical marijuana-and become a hub of marijuana research-with teaching hospitals to serve as dispensaries. Most proponents of the law are opposed to these changes, labeling them a bad idea at best and at worst a thinly veiled attempt to delay implementation of the law indefinitely. "We don't support the idea of Rutgers being the only supplier and teaching hospitals being the only dispensaries for a number of reasons: First, monopolies never create ideal goods or services; more options always makes for a stronger marketplace," says Scotti of Drug Policy Alliance. "Second, you have to remember that medical marijuana is still in conflict with federal law and for that reason no state has ever gotten into the business of growing and dispensing it themselves. It's always been turned over to private operators who shoulder the risk of federal prosecution. We would be asking state and hospital employees to violate federal law. New Mexico [whose medical marijuana law closely mirrors New Jersey's] considered the same thing but ultimately decided against it." That is true, says Dr. Alfredo Vigil, Secretary of New Mexico's Department of Health, which is responsible for administering the state's medical marijuana law. Vigil says New Mexico briefly considered using hospitals as pot dispensaries but quickly decided against it. "You have to remember that our law came into effect under the Bush administration and they were crystal clear that they were hostile to this law and would take any opportunity to prosecute people in violation of the federal law against marijuana," he says. "We are talking about asking health care professionals to put their licenses in jeopardy. Plus, it seems like a fairly inefficient model. Hospitals aren't used to being drug dispensaries and that's a complicated business. On top of that you are talking about doubling or tripling the flow of patient traffic, adding more parking, more staff and more facilities, all of which is expensive and time-consuming." As for the prospect of the state of New Mexico growing its own pot: "That approach quickly proved impractical and unrealistic," Vigil says. "First, the state doesn't own any fields-people were joking about tilling the patch of grass outside the Department of Health. Ridiculous. Second, we license and certify the sale of alcohol, but we don't make it for the simple reason that we have neither the facilities nor the expertise." As for Rutgers becoming a hub of marijuana research, Vigil says it would be nice, in a better world. "As a scientist, I am hobbled by a severe lack of knowledge about how that drug works and so it is very hard to have a scientific conversation about its medicinal use," he says. "But the federal government has very strongly delayed and denied serious research into it for decades. And [the Rugters plan] would be asking a university that receives federal money and contracts to risk losing all that along with accreditation. States like New Mexico and New Jersey that have passed medical marijuana laws are essentially creating a shell around an illegal activity and there is a temporary truce with the feds. But that doesn't mean those conflicts have been resolved." The University of Massachusetts tried for nine years to establish itself as a hub of marijuana research, which requires a special license from the Drug Enforcement Administration. Here's how that went according to the project's official website: Dr. Lyle Craker originally submitted the application for a license to DEA in June 2001. In December 2001, DEA claimed it was lost. We subsequently resubmitted a photocopy but were told in February 2002 that the photocopied application was invalid since it didn't have an original signature. In July 2002, the original application was returned, unprocessed, with a DEA date stamp showing it had been received in June 2001. Craker resubmitted the original application to the DEA on Aug. 20, 2002, which the DEA finally acknowledged receiving. And on it went. Fast forward through five years of red tape, culminating in legal action against the DEA that snaked through the Federal Court of Appeals and the Supreme Court and ended with DEA Administrative Law Judge Mary Ellen Bittner's Feb. 12, 2007, recommendation that the research license be granted. The DEA thought about it for two whole years before finally deciding to overrule the judge and deny the license once and for all, making it clear in a strongly worded ruling that, after nine years of back and forth, this would be the final word on the matter. Given UMass' experience with the DEA, some proponents of the Compassionate Use law believe the Christie administration is intentionally leading medical marijuana down a blind alley with the Rutgers plan, knowing full well that it would languish for years in legal limbo before inevitably hitting a wall. They find it odd that a man who has built his political profile on the inelegant mantra of getting 'government the hell out of your way' is essentially asking the federal government for permission to make medical marijuana a reality in New Jersey, knowing that the answer is no. "This is just another delay tactic to prolong the period of time before medical marijuana is available for as long as possible," says Wolski of the Coalition For Medical Marijuana New Jersey. "Rutgers can always apply to become one of the growers, but don't let it hold up the whole program." There are other reasons for proponents not to trust the Christie administration's intentions. For the entirety of the four years it took to get the Compassionate Use law passed, proponents like CMMNJ, Drug Policy Alliance and NORML had a seat at the table. Lawmakers welcomed their advice and input. But when the Christie administration came in, the door was closed. "Back in February we offered a set of regulations for implementing the law that we had assembled with various lawyers and experts," says Wolski. "They wrote back to say 'Thanks but no thanks, we're not taking any input from advocates.'" Six months later the original deadline has come and gone, and still there are no regulations for implementing the law. "They haven't reached out to any medical marijuana experts. That's like trying to build a bridge without talking to a bridge engineer," says Chris Goldstein, who sits on the board of directors at both NORML and CMMNJ. "So I am not surprised they are totally confused. Why not just stick with the law we passed? It's the most innovative law in the country. Why are we starting over?" "When you are talking about the growing and distribution of a controlled dangerous substance you want it done correctly," says Michael Drewniak, spokesman for Christie. "I mean, we could either do it now or do it right. The law as written is not a bad law, but we cannot allow this to become another Colorado or California. This governor, coming from a law-enforcement background, doesn't want to see that happening. So we are taking a breather." Meanwhile, people are dying. Though the Christie administration has been granted a 90-day extension, time is running out for people like Diane Riportella and she can't go to the Legislature for more. She's already outlived her health-insurance policy. Two months ago, a respiratory infection nearly took her out. In that time, she's had no access to medical marijuana. At first she was too sick to smoke, and by the time she pulled through and bounced back her source had dried up. Instead, she has had to rely on morphine, which is delivered to her house via Fed Ex unmolested by law enforcement. She doesn't like morphine, it makes her dopey and sleep all the time. And she's already grown addicted. Her face is flushed red and she has chills, which she says means she is going through withdrawal. She glumly asks her husband to give her another dose, and he shoots it into her mouth with a syringe. Then he puts the oxygen mask back on her as she waves a glassy-eyed goodbye. Soon the bedroom sounds like the inside of Darth Vader's head as he covers her in a warm blanket and she drifts off to sleep. A fundraiser to help the Riportellas defray medical costs will be held Sept. 25 at the Flying Cloud Cafe in Atlantic City. to purchase a ticket or make a donation. - --- MAP posted-by: Richard Lake