I’m nervous going into the doctor’s office on King Street in Northampton — it feels like I’m doing something illegal.
“That’s normal,” says the nurse practitioner when I sit down in the consultation room. “Everyone feels that way at first.”
I’m at Canna Care, a national company with medical marijuana certifying offices in seven states on the East Coast — eight in Massachusetts alone — and I’m applying to get my medical marijuana card.
I’ve considered applying for the card ever since Massachusetts voted to legalize medical Mary Jane in 2008; the $200 application fee, however, was a deterrent. If I didn’t have a weed column, that probably would have been the end of the story. But as the author of O, Cannabis I’ve gotten plenty of questions about what the card application process is like and I’ve had no answers beyond what I’ve read on the state’s medical marijuana program website. So, I’m going gonzo on this story.
Under Massachusetts law, to obtain a medical marijuana card a state resident must visit a doctor approved by the state to recommend marijuana with whom they have an established medical relationship. They must also have a condition that Massachusetts law now recognizes marijuana could treat — cancer, PTSD, chronic pain, glaucoma, anxiety, AIDS, Hep C, Alzheimer’s, etc. Proof of this medical condition is required at the time of application as well as a valid photo ID — and $200.
I have been receiving treatment for one of the qualifying ailments on the state list for three years, and in the past smoking marijuana has helped relieve some of the associated symptoms. But no one ever wrote down on a piece of paper “Kristin Palpini is diseased,” so I wasn’t feeling confident about my ability to prove my condition. According to the state, a list from my pharmacy of medications I take might be enough proof to certify me for medical marijuana. This seems like the easiest records to obtain, so I pop down to CVS, where they check my ID and hand over the list.
Resolved to apply for my medicinal marijuana card earnestly and honestly, on a Tuesday, I email and call three medical offices known for conducting medical marijuana evaluations: Canna Care, MariMed in Springfield and Docs Consult in East Longmeadow. Canna Care was the first to respond. I got an email noting that Canna Care offices do not take appointments, only walk-ins. The email also says that if I fail to get certified for medical marijuana following the appointment, I’ll receive a $150 refund. I like having a shot at getting most of my money back, so the following day I arrive shortly before the office opens at 10 a.m.
Outside the office, there is a man waiting for Canna Care to open.
“How far did you drive to get here?” he asks me. I tell him Northampton and he laughs, “You’re lucky, I had to drive out from far out east.”
While we’re waiting for the office to open he tells me he’s a military veteran and retired police officer who has been using medical marijuana for three years. He’s at Canna Care today because his card expired and he was unable to purchase anything from dispensaries last week.
“That really was bad for me. It set me back,” he says.
This is his first time at Canna Care; his doctor, Jill Griffin, stopped certifying patients for medical marijuana earlier this month. (For related story see Page 13.)
“I don’t know what to do,” he says. “I’m a little lost and there’s not like someone you can call to help.”
When the office opens we step inside and everything looks pretty normal: there’s the glass window where you check in, chairs lining the walls, BBC News on the radio, and medical posters on the walls. The posters for lawyers seem a bit out of place for a health clinic, but with the use and possession of marijuana still a federal crime, they’re necessary here.
I fill out pages of paperwork asking for my medical history, what illness I’m seeking to treat with marijuana, where I live, contact information, and confidentiality notifications and wait about 15 minutes to be seen.
A physician’s assistant with dreadlocks calls my name and we sit in her undecorated office. She takes my blood pressure and heart rate and asks about my experience with medical and recreational marijuana. Then she explains the difference between weed strains and how to take marijuana safely. She notes that marijuana strains high in CBD, one of the active chemicals in weed, will give patients the medical benefits of marijuana without the high. We talk for the next 10 minutes as if my obtaining a card is a given and then I go into the next office to meet the doctor.
The doctor’s office has some art on the walls, mostly Earth-mother type paintings of water flowers and mystical women. We discuss my medical conditions in detail and she asks about my history and current health. She tells me about the benefits and risks of marijuana as well as informs me about some of the research that has been conducted on weed. We talk about how marijuana could help me. Then she writes me out a recommendation for medical cannabis.
The whole process, from CVS to getting my recommendation, takes about an hour and a half. And though we discuss my medical condition, no one at Canna Care asks to see documentation of my ailment.
After Canna Care, I go back to the Advocate office to register the recommendation with the state. This is the trickiest part of obtaining my card, so far. It also costs $50 to file with the state. The online registration requires three passwords and a previously determined username that I can’t find anywhere. I call the state registration helpline for assistance. Someone answers the phone promptly and cheerily sends an email with my username and a new password (my fourth password of the day). In addition, I have to scan and attach my driver’s license to the form.
The online form takes about a half an hour to fill out. Now I wait to see if Massachusetts will approve the doctor’s recommendation and grant me access to medicinal marijuana. If I am approved, the state will email me a temporary medicinal card that I can print myself and is good for four weeks. A plastic medical marijuana card should come in the mail a week or two later.
Obtaining my medical marijuana recommendation was surprisingly easy. The way state officials talk about the thoroughness of the medical marijuana law, did not stack up to my experience, which by the way, appears to have met all state mandates. I assumed I would need to attend multiple appointments and provide copious paperwork to back up my claim of medical malady. But none of that was necessary; the state doesn’t even require it, though they do strongly recommend doctors require proof of ailment. I’m not ready to declare getting your card a snap because I don’t actually have mine, yet — more challenges may lie ahead. I’ll keep you all up to date in O, Cannabis.
I called up Canna Care to let them know I’m writing about my visit and to ask how typical my experience was. While everyone’s consultation is different, my visit met all state requirements for certification, Canna Care rep said. I figured the state was going to make it a lot harder on me. Though, the rep says, there is plenty more evaluation going on behind the scenes, including a review of the state’s Prescription Drug Monitoring Program database to ensure that patients are not already on drugs that could create any issues.
Now for the big question: Is it worthwhile to get your medical marijuana card?
It depends on how much value you put on being a law-abiding citizen. If it’s worth $250 to you, apply for the card. If that’s not you, make sure to get the vote out in November when a measure to legalize recreational marijuana is on the ballot.
Contact Kristin Palpini at kpalpini@valleyadvocate.com.
