Blesching - The Cannabis Health Index: Combining the Science of Medical Marijuana with Mindfulness Techniques To Heal 100 Chronic Symptoms and Diseases

Allow me to tell you the story of how, when I was a mobile intensive-care paramedic in San Francisco, I witnessed the murder of a patient and how my partner and I used magic to bring him back to life.

It was late, a few hours past midnight, and the storefront lights on Chestnut Street were dim. The streets were empty except for some late-night clubbers looking for a taxi. We had been working a string of highly stressful emergencies nonstop for twenty-three hours with no sleep and little time to eat. We were burned out in attitude and exhausted in body when we got a call for an unconscious person lying on the sidewalk.

Lights and sirens on, our ambulance was briefly airborne as we flew over the top of the steep hill on Franklin. We came down hard and sped on until we found the person lying face down on the sidewalk in front of an elegant store selling evening gowns. He was oozing bodily fluids from every orifice.

We did a quick, head-to-toe assessment: no signs of blood or broken bones, blood test for sugar within normal limits, no sign of recent injection. The patients pupils were dilated, so we could rule out narcotics overdose. I got the gurney and aligned it next to his limp 220-pound body. Lifting him was difficult and strenuous. Once he was in the ambulance, I placed an EKG monitor on his chest and fitted an oxygen mask over his face. He was breathing okay; pulse oximeter was a bit low but not too bad; his cardiac rhythm was normal.

My partner, as he was trying to adjust the gurneys safety belts, slipped. He tried to break his fall by bracing himself against the gurney and his hand ended up in the wet, warm puddle that had pooled between the patients legs.

Just die, he said, following up this fatigue-induced directive with an expletive.

I looked at the monitor at that very moment. The patients normal heart rhythm instantly flat-lined. My partner and I looked at each other. All of our exhaustion and bad attitude was washed away by an immediate flood of adrenalin. We initiated CPR, and I placed a tube in the patients lungs while my partner hooked up an intravenous line.

I injected the first ampule of epinephrine into his system. No response. He was still flat-lining.

Without making the conscious connection to what had happened a few minutes earlier, I yelled, Come on! Stay with us!

Nothing happened.

Come back! I shouted again, but this time I followed the command with a colorful expletive. To my surprise and instant relief, his heart started to beat again. His breathing returned spontaneously and his oxygen saturation improved dramatically.

The rest of the transport to the emergency room was uneventful. Later we learned that our passenger had overdosed on GHB (a euphoria-inducing substance known to most people as the date rape drug). The patient was kept at the hospital for a day and released the next morning with no complications.

I, however, was put on a fast track to studying anything I could find about mind-body medicine and that elusive bridge between them. Little did I know that the scientific evidence would lead me directly to the recent discovery of the bodys own endocannabinoid system.