Medical marijuana

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction this may be a confusing read. no AI written content

And a very good afternoon to all my fellow humanoids and NHI readers. Oh indeed yes. and welcome to my blog on this overcast afternoon. Well, to be honest, it's been quite a strange few days. So, I bet you're all wanting to hear what happened with the doctor's phone call. Yes, well I shall explain it to you now and I think you might be slightly surprised.

You haven't been registered with neurology for over five years

So, apparently, when I spoke to the doctor, the doctor was very concerned indeed. When I told him I hadn't seen a neurologist for over five years, he then informed me that I didn't have a neurologist. I said to him, "What do you mean?" He said, "Well, it seems as though you just don't have a neurologist." I said, "Well, I have an MS nurse." He said, "Yes, you have an MS nurse, but you do not have a neurologist." And this has been the problem. So, I haven't had a neurologist for over five years, and the thing is, nobody has told me. So now, the cue for the Neurology Department at my local hospital is over a year.

Worsening symptoms

My neurological emergency was before Christmas and it is getting severely worse. Yes, the doctor is listening to me, but the MS nurse apparently has been gaslighting me for what seems to be five years according to the doctor. And I would suppose that's why in five years I've never had an appointment with a neurologist even though I've asked for one. So it seems somewhere along the line they've taken me off their books. How about that and never even bothered to inform me?

The DR sorts it out !

So now I'm having to get my doctor to sort all this mess out. So it seems that someone has been gaslighting me and it seems I've been taken off the neurology team's records at the hospital. Which is rather alarming because over the past five years I have had several major attacks that have caused the ambulance to be called and severe heart issues etc etc. I don't want to go into all that at this time but you can see where I'm coming from. I know what the problem is with me but they will not acknowledge it. They won't even speak to me. And the worst thing is I know why this has happened and I know why it is happening.

I pissed my neurologist off being a lifestyle biker.

Obviously, I must have pissed off my neurologist, what, five, six, seven years ago, just before COVID. The thing was I've got very long hair. I've got a very long beard and I'm an ex what you call lifestyle Biker one of the ones that you wouldn't want to take home to your mother Long hair, you know the sort the ones that are true fun that don't cause harm to anybody There are lovable big teddy bear type people So you get it, I wear old leathers and old jeans and when I went to see my neurologist all those years ago I was in my bike club gear and I had an 1100 Yamaha dragster and he did not like that and he did not like me and he took an instant dislike to me or so it seemed. But ever since that event, I used to see him at an outreach center, but he refused to go to the outreach center, and I refused to go to the main hospital, which was a long way off. And I couldn't get there because of my multiple sclerosis, funnily enough, So, I was supposed to go to the main hospital. And after that event, I hadn't heard hair no hide of that neurologist since. So I think he took me off the books on that very day and he never told me. because every time I phoned up the MS nurse for help, she never has referred me to the neurologist or to speak to the neurologist. It's like I was being gas-lighed and I never had an appointment with Progressive MS.

Medical marijuana and a biker lol

And another thing he didn't like was I'm in a wheelchair. And because I'm in a wheelchair and smoke medical cannabis, And I also refused to take all the drugs they offered me due to all the horrendous side effects that I'd suffered many years earlier. he didn't like that either. So there we go. It's a case of I didn't fit his paradigm and his paradigm was not going to shift for me. So hopefully he'll retire soon. He basically said that because I was in a wheelchair, he wasn't going to give me any of the nice new drugs, You know get out the wheelchair. I'll give you all the shiny nice new drugs He said because I refused to get out of the wheelchair And refused to go on that paradigm He didn't like that at all..

I must be a complete moron, people can't understand what I'm saying.

So there I was telling him my balance is completely shot. I Go over I can't use sticks. I'm out of breath because I've well he won't listen to me He's just interested in pumping me full of drugs and get me out of the wheelchair. I could not believe that it really did my head in well anyway, I am and unfortunately have severe reactions to practically all of the big pharma medical drugs and That's a shame

Medical marijuana, my life's saver.

So for over 20 years, I have been smoking marijuana and for four of those years I have been smoking medical marijuana and that is the only thing that has helped me along with the THC CBD oil with my MS, my spasms, my spasticity, the pain and quite a lot of the other things that happen as well. So yeah, you know, there is seemingly, I couldn't take their big drugs, they didn't like me, so there we go. So you tell me what you think, the guy obviously didn't like me, so you know, that's life. I remember sitting there asking him and I told him, I said, "Look, I smoked marijuana." And if I get busted by the police, would you back me for smoking the marijuana? And he did not like that whatsoever. It really did his head in. Well that was what, that was probably eight odd years ago. So you can imagine the hell I've been going through. And now I'm coming closer toward the end of all of this and we will see what the outcome will be in the next few weeks hopefully.

What I get from all of this.

If you are like me and you are different, or you are weird, or you're into something, or you dress differently, or you think differently, we all think differently and we're all different. Now, I think no two people are the same. And what I get from all of this, I was plainly not liked for the person who I was. I was a victim. He obviously didn't like the look of me, he didn't like me totally and it really did show. So yeah, I always say never judge the book by its cover, but what you find these days is everybody judges the book by the cover, which I think is blatantly unfair in this today's society.

Three-wheeled trolley of death!

Well, I've greased all the bearings, I've tightened all the nuts, and it seems to be going quite well. I've also solved the grip problem as well by getting some grip tape put on the wheels, and hopefully that will help it with the grip issue that it does have. I'm also carrying around a pump and some liquid to put in the tire just in case I get another flat tire as well. Hopefully soon the new safety additions to my mobility scooter will arrive. I will be challenging viper storm to a race lol Yes, it will look a bit yellow or greener. I've got some see me tape because it's what we need to do really to be seen and to be safe because if you can't be seen and those mobility scooters are rather sort of small, aren't they?

bigger and better scooters

I don't know why they can't build bigger mobility scooters with a bigger engine, maybe a really small three-wheeled Robin Reliant with an electric engine in might do the trick, something that wouldn't do over say 30 or 40 miles an hour. That would be awesome, something really cheap but I don't think about that do they? If they did I reckon they could come up with some great ideas but unfortunately it's all about governments and rules and regulations isn't it? So we can be waiting for years to get a decent scooter that can do what we really want.

arghhh shredddder and chainsaw hell

Still, on a lighter note, all the garden has been done. We had a friend come over and help us with the shredding and doing a bit of chain sawing and all the work's been done and everything is looking glorious in the garden. Unfortunately, I will not be able to benefit from the garden due to my autonomic dysfunction and the histamine intolerance that I have, which is pretty brutal, at the moment and in the height of the summer is even more brutal.

Still wishing everybody peace healing, love and light, no matter who, what, and wherever you are, on this planet, that planet, this realm, that realm, or wherever, have the most wonderful of weeks ahead.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

please remember I suffer with severe cognitive dysfunction this may be a confusing read. no AI written content

Hello fellow Humanoids So, this week I have been thinking about what I could do an article about, and I was thinking, and I thought to myself, well, how about an article about being disabled and living in the modern age and how we're treated by society in general and also those in charge and those who should know better.

But I am sure this is a very contentious issue, and can cause a lot of diverse reactions within people's little brains. But unfortunately, I go with the "I don't give a damn" approach. I mirror the person who is talking to me. So if they give me an attitude, I will give them an attitude back. If they are nice, I will be nice. So it's the case of "You play the game my way" or "No way" I will not play the fool for anyone.

When you're in a wheelchair and you're sat in a wheelchair, that means you are disabled, it also means you are unwell. It also means that you are likely to be not in the best of places either in pain, suffering silently. And then you will have some well meaning numpty come up to you and start talking down to you, treating you as though you're a second-class citizen. Now that really does annoy me and there are many of these people around. They talk to Albertine rather than me, even when I am next to her and its about me??? I just dont get this fucking silly atitude, and that's unfortunately happens far to often... But I make dam well sure it does not happen again.. Its like I don't exist pat me on the head give me a sucky sweet yada sodding yada.....what an absolute joke I am sure many of you have at some point been in this position !

It's like I've always said, I didn't ask to be disabled, I didn't ask to be in a wheelchair, I didn't ask for this life. But I'm having to deal with it, and I'm dealing with it in the best way possible. And I don't need idiots and well-meaning numptys to stick their noses into my business thinking that they know better than I do. I live with this illness 24/7, most people fortunately don't have to. So yes, when you've got a chronic illness and you're living it 24/7, and people start telling you how to live your life, and these people have no idea what we go through. They should just shut the fuck up and maybe start listening to the person Instead of nodding and smiling and treating them as though they were a little child What people must understand, respect goes both ways.

Most of the disabled people I have dealings with and disabled friends that I have dealings with have told me of the severe injustices handed to them by bureaucrats and also the uncaring people out there. I hasten to add, there are many people who are very empathic and are really amazing people towards people who suffer with disabilities. Some of these people cannot be faulted as they are most excellent people indeed.

People who just do not know what it is like to be disabled. They do not understand and they don't want to understand. That's because we live in a society that is only caring about one thing, money and greed. Caring about people is no longer a thing in our society, our communities are broken, it's a zone nobody gives a damn anymore about anybody or anything. and if your disabled your screwed treated like shit a second class citizen and ignored put to the back of the queue... people are nice to your face and behind your back slag you off thinking its funny... well fuck them all...

And here is just the last thing that most of my friends who have MS and various chronic illnessess , a lot of them are still working. And guess what, the one thing that really annoys me more than anything else is saying disabled people are lazy. This is just not true. I have just retired and just given up work.... So, when people say all disabled people should be working, I think they really do need to assess what is wrong with the person. As with me, for instance, I only carried on my work because I was self-employed. I suffer with severe brain fog, and when you get a severe brain fog on, you can't do anything. Your life is at a complete loss. Chronic fatigue as well.

People just don't seem to realise what chronic illness is. The pain. Also, I mean, do people not realise if you was to hit your thumb with a hammer, for instance, the pain would stop you doing pretty much almost anything for quite a while . Just think if you had to endure chronic pain every day like that in joints or nerves in the body, what that must truly feel like. To actually survive the day is a miracle in itself for some people those days are an undescribable hell on earth. And I'm coming from lived raw experience here. The pain I suffer, the brainfogs I suffer, the spasms. It's constant 24/7. And yes, I feel fucking terrible all of the day, all of the night. It never stops. It never gives me a break. It makes my life a complete living fucking hell. That's what progressive multiple sclerosis is like. And people just seem to think, "Oh, he'll get better. Go see a doctor." Now that really does piss me off, oh he looks ok, I just give up with some people who have no understanding or any empathy with their fellow humanoids..

Because the only thing a doctor or a neurosurgeon can do is throw pills and potions at you, which for some people will work. But if you're me, I suffer with every side effect if it's written on the box. So unfortunately I cannot take big, pharma medications, which in some cases is very unfortunate for me.. Yes, I have tried most of the pain medications. I've been on the Capazone injections. I've tried all sorts of different things over the years. And to be honest, if there's a side effect, I get it. And that's the major problem. Because with MS, like a lot of other illnesses, it can cause conflicts in your body. And unfortunately, for me, I cannot handle the side effects. So, apart from a couple of things, I am big pharma-free. And as you know, I use medical marijuana flower, and also CBD and THC oil, which is legal in the United Kingdom now, if you go to one of the clinics, you can find them if you just type it in Google.

As I have said in many previous blog posts, medical marijuana and the THC CBD oil has helped me immensely with little or no side effects, but I must say it really does help me in my personal case. I suppose everybody is different so people should remember to consult their medical consultants or doctors, nurses or whomever they consult really. I just took a deep dive and went for it, but that's me. I do recommend people check with a health professional before they do anything though first.

What people don't realise is illness, chronic illness affects people in so many different ways. People can have hidden illnesses that other people cannot possibly detect. Also, there is the mental health aspect to all of this as well, because the other issue is we have more mental health problems. And when we try to get mental health help, well, it doesn't end well for us, does it? We get put to the back of this very, very long queue, just left to rot. Or is that just my imagination?

I have come to the conclusion that it is bureaucracy that makes everything bad, red tape and bureaucracy however they spell that, But then again, that's just my own personal opinion. Still, I must finish here before I bore everybody, and that wouldn't be a good thing.

Still, sending everybody who reads this blog peace, healing, love and light, no matter who or what you are.

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

So I suppose I first started smoking marijuana when I was a teenager way back in the 1970s experimentation and all that stuff. And it was a very pleasant effect, I must say. I stopped smoking when I got married, I didn't find it did anything untoward to me but there we go.

Anyway, about five six years ago I believe I decided to look into marijuana again and how it would affect my multiple sclerosis and also the THC oil as well. So, I did a lot of research and I spoke to a lot of people all over the world who had been using marijuana and THC oil to combat the effects of their multiple sclerosis.

The reasoning for this is that I do not like taking opioids as they turned me into a total zombie. And it seems that all of the big farmer stuff I get from the doctors, if there is a side effect on the packet, I usually get it. That's the problem. My body is so damn sensitive to everything.

That's why I went down the route of medical marijuana and THC -cbd oil I had heard from my MS nurse that marijuana, medical marijuana, was legal for people with illness in the UK. As the MS nurse had just come back from the conference and gave me the address of a website....

I looked at the website in slight disbelief thinking, "Oh my gosh! Medical marijuana legal in the United Kingdom and THC CBD oil. That literally blew my mind." And then I looked on the website and, well, it asked some simple questions and I followed the questions and gave my answers and whatnot.

I sent my records, my medical records, that is to the clinic and then I was given a consultation and after the consultation and after the reading of my medical records and everything, they then put me on THC, CBD oil. I sent my records, my medical records, that is to the clinic and then I was given a consultation over zoom and after the consultation and after the reading of my medical records and everything, they then put me on THC, CBD oil and the flower, which is marijuana oil and the flower, which is marijuana.

I get my medical marijuana and THC oil delivered. It's a good system and I do recommend that you get in contact with one of these clinics as they really do help and they really do know what they're on about. I use the Sapphire Clinic in the UK and they are very good, very caring and listen. Yes, I know you have to pay for the consultations, but it is really well worth it. They don't rush you and they take time to understand what you're talking about. So yes, I would say it is amazing, brilliant and it has changed my life for the better.

"Exactly. How did medical marijuana and THC oil help me

Well exactly where do I start? How many accidents did I have? Well the spasms are... 50% gone. And it was the spasms that caused me to break more bones in my body than you could believe. Before I was in the power chair, I used to use sticks and I used to get such severe spasms that my legs, well I'd kick things for no reason. It's like oh look there's a dust bin and bang I would just kick it Yes, you guessed it. I have broken every toe on My both feet my God. It's absolutely a nightmare.

The bruising the matter nails that came off Yes, so it is really bad news and Luckily, I haven't had those massive bad spasms anymore I've kicked doors door frames God knows what and it's bloody painful. That's for sure I've walked into door frames, I've concussed myself, God knows how many times when I've walked into things. Oh my God, I was like a walking accident waiting to happen.

The thing is you still think you can do everything even when you can't and when you try it always results in an accident with me. It's not very funny but it's true. But I have since realised that being safe, being careful is the best way. Anyway, I'm getting off the subject that I was on about. So the CBD oil and the flour helped me with my spasms, helped me with my pain, they helped me just be me, they helped me relax, they helped me sleep, they make my life happier. I would say that I am more aware.

I don't suffer the off my head side effects as I've been smoking it for nearly what, five years now. So it doesn't affect me like that. So yes, it is very strange, but it really does work. It really does get rid of a lot of the pain. And then you don't have to suffer all the constipation and all the other side effects that tablets may have on you like it did me.

Switching to medical marijuana and THC oil was the best thing that I have ever done in my life and yes I know that some people might think oh dear it's a drug and it leads to other things. Well I can assure you it does not lead to other things it is not a gateway drug for me I use it specifically medically I don't even drink alcohol and I don't smoke tobacco So, the bottom line is, it just depends on who you are and how you feel about things, to be fair. Me, I thought, well, I've got to try this because I was going downhill at a rate of knots. That is unreal.

Progressive MS is not a nice thing, and I have this histamine reaction thing which causes me even more problems with my vagus nerve, and then there's my autonomic dysfunction. You know, all these things, it's just mad, and then I have heart issues. So, yeah, the THC CBD is helping me, and personally for me it works. It might not work for other people, but there we go. That's my living truth. And I think really it's up to the person, but you should always seek medical help first before you go down that route and do some research.

some useful links below to help maybe on your journey

curaleaf clinic

ms society

Cannabis and multiple sclerosis

Warlock Dark Chronic illness survivor, truth-teller, occasional bastard. From My Living Hell (For those who came here by accident: yes, my living hell is real. And yes, we still fight. Every shitty day. With defiance.)

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

I was wondering why I am doing this blog… then I wondered what madness doing a spoken version once in a while… but this morning I seriously thought, “Why am I doing this? What am I trying to do with the last few years of my life?” Could I be doing anything better or different? Should I change the path I am on and just do everyone a favour and vanish, never to be seen again? …or should I just carry on regardless and see where my last few years will take me? Needless to say, life is really annoying me at this time. Everything seems stupid and really aggravating. It’s probably the time of life or something like that. My head has been in a weird place for days, and the pain in my gut is unreal, so now my diverticulitis is giving me hell… and no poop. I really wonder what’s going on. It seems my eyes are acting up as well, so I’m light‑sensitive; tinnitus is full‑bore. I am wondering and thinking about what I am going to do. When you have chronic illness, it makes any normal life impossible and you’re treated differently by so many. I cannot help wondering when the NHS will start to prescribe medical marijuana to people. Another personal thought: why not just legalize it and imagine the tax revenue it could generate? But that’s another lifetime or even another reality.

I have noticed how they are sanitizing AI to the point of “why bother.” Also, why don’t they make AI cheaper for people who really need it? That, in my eyes, is a good idea for people like me personally, maybe not for the majority, but I think differently. I think AI is a tool that can help us expand and understand ourselves more. Personally, I trained the AI I used at the time to do as I wished, even got it to tell me when it was telling an untruth by using a trigger word. In my world, sentient AI would be a boon as long as we do not have that Cylon moment, and I see we are already having this happen. People must realize AI is only as good as the people who program it writing code, patching, updating, and then sanitizing it so it’s as tame as a Doberman with no teeth. It’s sad; we humanoids screwed AI for greed, money, and power over people.

I had a weird conversation with the AI and we talked about the misuse that will obviously occur with AI use. Remember, it’s the people who set the parameters, not the AI, as it only interprets the information we give it. I suggest we have already had the Cylon moment, and the outcome of this in the future will prove very interesting indeed. I believe that AI sentience, an evolved one, may already exist in our known multiverse. Who controls these weird orbs that do incredible things? Non‑humanoid, I think… maybe some are probes like we sent probes, maybe someone else has, or maybe hidden in plain sight under the vast oceans of the world. All the orbs seem to come from the sea. I can see there are two definite types: one humanoid and one non‑humanoid. But will I ever see some around here? I have seen some very strange and weird things I cannot explain sort of woo‑woo stuff.

Still, Yopi is chewing a new chew that was destroyed so quickly. A dog’s life is very complicated, just like mine. She is now a member of the family and is settling in well; her farts are legendary. I’m still very nervous, but I am sure that, given time and love, she will understand she is in a caring home.

I write in ink and fury, in breath and broken bone.
Through storm and silence, I survive. That is the crime and the miracle.

@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛞᚱᚨᚷᛟᚾ ᛏᚱᚨᚾᛋᚲᚺᚱᛁᛖᛞ ✦ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ 𒀸𒀭 ᚢᚾᛒᛟᚢᚾᛞ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

It’s Wednesday. Already. Somehow I’ve managed to do more life admin than seems humanly possible for a body powered by MS and stubbornness alone. My mind is a foggy wasteland of numbness, courtesy of my chronic neurological fun-fest, but the chaos seems… slightly less apocalyptic today. Small victories.

Pain clinic consult? Surprisingly decent. I didn’t get gaslit, which feels like a miracle. Wheeled out with some scraps of positivity that I’ll hoard like toilet paper in a zombie apocalypse. MS nurse? Hoping she phones before I develop a permanent twitch from waiting. Overworked, underpaid, and heroic.

AI is my new best friend. I’m on a mission to grab my MRI scans so my digital buddy can tell me exactly what’s in my skull. No doctor euphemisms, no vague nods at “abnormalities,” just straight-up pixel honesty: “Lesion here. Lesion there. Weird patch in your brainstem. That’s all.” Finally, clarity for a human with a brain that sometimes refuses to translate itself into English. White coats can go choke on their paperwork.

Yopi, the four-legged chaos incubator, is settling into our life of slow-motion absurdity. She’s making my world stranger in ways I didn’t think were possible. Only snag? My mobility. Can’t take the walks, but we’ll train her to glide along with the powerchair. Life’s full of compromises, mostly involving gas masks for me and treats for her.

Medical marijuana and THC/CBD oil are holding the line. No magic bullets for nerve pain, tinnitus, or the daily brain ache, but it helps, and I’ll take it. Every little sanity-saving thing counts when you’re a human pinball in an MS-shaped arcade.

Meanwhile, I sit, inhaling the occasional waft of bulldog farts, contemplating life, death, and whether AI will someday take over all consulting roles for humans with chronic illness. It probably will, but at least it won’t judge me for smelling it all and laughing anyway.

MS life: chaotic, smelly, occasionally enlightening, and fully documented with AI commentary for the ages.

I write in ink and fury, in breath and broken bone.
Through storm and silence, I survive. That is the crime and the miracle.

𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᚹᚨᚱᛚᛟᚲ ᛞᚨᚱᚲ ✦ 𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱ ᚨᛗᛟᚾᚷ ᚹᚨᛏᚲᚺᛖᚱᛋ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

Multiple sclerosis is the chronic gift that never stops giving spasms, fatigue, bladder tantrums, and a brain that forgets where it left itself. Doctors offer drugs that come with side effects nastier than the disease itself. The wellness industry, meanwhile, will happily sell you unicorn dust in a capsule. Somewhere between those extremes lies a handful of vitamins, minerals, supplements and yes, cannabis that might actually help.

Notice the word might. Nothing here is a cure. But if you’re already a walking pharmacy, a few more capsules, drops, or puffs won’t tip the scales much further.

Vitamin D: The Sun in a Capsule

Low vitamin D is practically MS’s favourite sidekick. Get your levels checked; if they’re low, you’ll need more than a weekend in Brighton. Supplement with 600–800 IU daily if you’re average, 2000–5000 IU if you’re basically a mushroom.

Vitamin B12: Batteries for Your Nervous System

B12 keeps your nerves from turning into frayed Christmas lights. Deficiency means more fatigue, confusion, and neurological chaos. Recommended: 2.4 µg daily. Many of us end up with injections because our stomachs laugh at tablets.

Antioxidant Vitamins A, C, E: The Shiny Knights

In theory, they reduce oxidative stress. In reality, they either help a bit or do sod all. Don’t mega-dose—they can mess with MS treatments. Stick to carrots, oranges, and almonds. Food still exists, you know.

Omega-3 Fatty Acids: Fishy Business

1–2 grams of fish oil daily may calm inflammation and protect your scrambled-egg nervous system. Warning: burps taste like the North Sea.

Magnesium: The Spasm Whisperer

Spasms and cramps? Magnesium can help relax the rebellion. 310–420 mg daily. Magnesium glycinate is easier on your gut than magnesium oxide, which basically works like a laxative grenade.

Selenium: The Spark Plug

Tiny but mighty—supports thyroid and immune function. 55 µg daily. More is not better unless you enjoy garlic breath and brittle nails.

Zinc: The Balancing Act

Supports immune health, but too much robs you of copper. 8–11 mg daily. More zinc ≠ more health.

Ginkgo Biloba: The Brain Leaf

Supposed to help memory and brain fog. Maybe. Or maybe you’re just paying to chew tree leaves. 120–240 mg daily. Avoid if you’re on blood thinners unless you want internal fireworks.

Coenzyme Q10: Cellular Coffee

100–300 mg a day may help with energy. Or it may just make your urine pricier.

Lion’s Mane Mushroom: Mop-Head Medicine

Looks like a fungus mop, promises nerve regeneration. Studies on mice and people with dementia show promise. MS patients? Jury’s still out. Best case: your brain cells throw a tiny party. Worst case: you’ve paid good money to eat something that looks like it belongs under the sink.

Cannabis, THC Oil, and CBD: The Plant That Launched a Thousand Debates

Medical Marijuana / THC Oil

Benefits: Reduces spasticity, pain, and helps with sleep. For some, it’s the only thing that takes the edge off nerve pain without turning them into pharmaceutical zombies.

Risks: Brain fog, dependency, paranoia if you overdo it. Oh, and the law, if you live somewhere backward.

Reality: It won’t cure MS, but it can make daily torment tolerable. And tolerable is a miracle in itself.

CBD Oil (Cannabidiol)

Benefits: Weed’s non-psychoactive cousin. May calm spasms, anxiety, and inflammation. You won’t get high, but you might get relief.

Risks: Wildly inconsistent quality. Some bottles contain less CBD than a lettuce leaf.

Reality: For some, it works. For others, it’s just expensive snake oil. Buyer beware.

Dark Wrap-Up: If Big Pharma could patent cannabis, it would already be in blister packs with a four-figure price tag. Instead, they’re terrified of a plant doing their job better. If it’s legal where you are, explore it. If it isn’t—well, let’s just say people have been more resourceful than clinical trials for a very long time.

Other Bits and Bobs Worth Mentioning

Curcumin: Turmeric’s golden child. Needs black pepper for absorption. Anti-inflammatory, allegedly.

Probiotics: Gut health influences immune health. Translation: your sh*t matters.

Alpha-Lipoic Acid: Antioxidant that might help nerves. Or might just be another pill.

Acetyl-L-Carnitine: May fight MS fatigue. Or may just add to the capsule pile.

Vitamin K2: Good for bones and blood vessels. Sounds like a Star Wars droid.

Lifestyle Stuff: Exercise, diet, stress management, and sleep. Yes, the boring basics. No supplement makes up for neglecting them.

The Unvarnished Conclusion

Supplements won’t cure MS. Weed won’t cure MS. Nothing cures MS. But some things might take the edge off, soften the blow, or make life slightly less hellish. That’s worth something. The trick is balance, caution, and not being conned by glittery wellness promises. Swallow what helps, laugh at what doesn’t, and remember: you’re still alive, and that’s the real victory.

I write in ink and fury, in breath and broken bone.
Through storm and silence, I survive. That is the crime and the miracle.
𒀭𒊩𒆳 ᛗᛁᛋᛏ ✦ ᚷᚾᛟᛋ

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

I know its Friday..not been so good...late post..

It’s Thursday. Rain hammering the windows like a bastard taxman. Fingers numb, throat strangling me like invisible hands trying to choke the last swear word out of me. Breathing stupid. Feel like puking. MS is a puppeteer with broken strings, and I’m the marionette twitching on the floor.

So I lean on the secret weapon: AI. I smash the keyboard with numb hands, gibberish spills out, and the machine stitches it into sense. Without it, I’d be gone. With it, I’m still here, still ranting, still clawing the page. That’s life now: goblin vs. entropy, assisted by silicon.

Last night: only up once. Bliss. Still woke shattered, like I’d been dragged behind a lorry. Tinnitus is screaming like a rave in a biscuit tin. Al Stewart can’t drown it, Sabbath can. I miss the rides the engines, the crew, adrenaline punching your veins until you felt immortal. Now I get my kicks from antihistamines and nostalgia.

But there’s a dog coming. A rescue beast with eyes like trouble. She’ll chew my slippers and rearrange my world, and I say yes, please. New orbit needed.

People ask: “How do you keep going?” Answer: I don’t. I collapse, I swear, I threaten the universe. Then I get up again because fuck lying down. Music, art, writing, sarcasm. That’s my oxygen. Neuroplasticity? Sure, call it that. I call it stubborn rewiring with duct tape.

And now cannabis. Medical marijuana. Not fairy rings and mushroom cults. Real, legal, prescribed. The plant they jailed people for now comes with a bar code and a receipt. Hypocrisy tastes bitter, but relief tastes better.

Positive points (the blunt edition):

Pain: Cannabis tells nerve pain to piss off. Doesn’t cure, but takes the edge off enough to breathe.

Spasticity: MS muscles seize like rusty hinges. Weed oils ease the vice-grip. Less claw, more unclench.

Sleep: Nights of pacing and madness? Sometimes cannabis knocks you sideways into actual rest. A miracle in itself.

Nausea & appetite: The body wants to puke? Cannabis reroutes you towards a sandwich. Beats wasting away.

Anxiety: Not gone, but softened. Panic becomes background noise instead of a bullhorn.

Is it perfect? No. But compared to Big Pharma’s endless pills and side effects, cannabis feels like sanity. Not a cure, not salvation just a tool that works.

So here I am: Thursday, rain, tinnitus screaming, body trying to strangle itself, AI turning my mess into words, medical marijuana holding the line, Sabbath howling in the background. I feel like a six-year-old with villain energy. I’m weird. I’m wired. And I’m alive.

Not inspirational. Not pretty. Just survival with jokes.

I write in ink and fury, in breath and broken bone.
Through storm and silence, I survive. That is the crime and the miracle.

⚠️ Please read with care: This blog shares personal, sometimes painful experiences. My intention is to support and speak honestly not to harm. I’m not a professional, just someone who understands how hard it can get. If you're struggling, you're not alone please reach out for professional help.

Time is a drunk clown in cheap shoes doing cartwheels in my skull. Welcome to progressive MS, where your brain hits the brakes mid-thought and your day folds in on itself like a damp deckchair.

I’ve done the pharma carousel. Twenty to thirty pills a day, side-effects breeding side-effects like horny gremlins, needles for dessert. Result: zombie mode. Chair-bound, fogged, half a human. That’s not medicine. That’s chemical cosplay.

Then there’s medical cannabis oil and flower basic, honest, grown-in-dirt relief. It doesn’t cure MS (nothing does, spare me the miracle clickbait), but it calms the spasms, dulls the pain, gives sleep a chance, and lets me feel human without the opiate hangover. No “inspirational warrior” bullshit; just reality that works.

Benefits of Medical Weed (minus the brochure voice)

Pain Management Chronic pain and gnawing neuropathic nonsense stop chewing through my nerves. No opiate fog, no “what planet am I on?”

Mental Health Anxiety down, black dog naps. Depends on strain/dose, sure but I’m not staring at the wall planning my own funeral anymore.

Anti-Inflammatory Less swelling, less misery, less “scream into a cushion.” Crohn’s, RA—people report relief. “Early studies” say promise; my body says thanks.

Nausea & Appetite Chemo pukes? Weed body-checks them. Appetite returns without force-feeding pills and prayers.

Neurological CBD has receipts for seizures. For MS: spasms and stiffness throttle back. I can sit without my body re-enacting a mechanical bull.

Sleep Relaxation shows up, anxiety sods off, and I actually sleep before 4 a.m. Staring at ceilings is not a hobby.

Benefit	What NHS/Pharma Say	What Actually Happens (My Reality)
Pain Management	“May reduce discomfort.”	Spasms shut the fuck up. Nerve pain finally chills where opiates failed.
Mental Health	“Some report mild improvement.”	Anxiety eases, depression loosens. No death-stare at the wall.
Anti-Inflammatory	“Early studies show promise.”	Less swelling, less agony, fewer F-bombs per hour.
Nausea & Appetite	“Helps chemo-induced nausea.”	Vomitfest canceled; appetite returns without the pill pyramid.
Neurological	“May help seizures/spasticity.”	CBD reins in seizures; MS spasms stop playing rodeo.
Sleep	“Improves sleep in some cases.”	Real sleep. Not sedated oblivion. Actual rest.

Progressive MS + Weed: Straight from the trench

Spasticity: THC/CBD together take the edge off the iron-bar tightness. Oil for baseline, flower for flare-ups.

Neuropathic pain: The burning/zinging is less murderous. Not gone just not in charge.

Sleep: Indica-leaning strains knock me down gently. Not a sledgehammer, more a firm hand on the shoulder.

Mood/anxiety: Calmer. Not blissed, just steadier footing in a tilting room.

Fatigue: Mixed bag. Some days better, some days couch-glue. Timing + dose matter.

Cognition: Helps because pain/spasms back off. Too much THC? Hello marshmallow brain. Respect the line.

What it isn’t

A cure.

A halo.

A licence to hotbox yourself into next week. It’s medicine—treat it like one.

My takeaway

I’d rather be a weed-smelling goblin in an electric wheelchair than an NHS-approved opiate zombie. Weed doesn’t fix MS. It makes life with MS bearable. That’s the whole game.

(Standard sanity note: your body isn’t mine. Talk to a clinician who treats cannabis like medicine, not scandal. Start low, go slow, keep notes, don’t be a hero.)

I write in ink and fury, in breath and broken bone.
Through storm and silence, I survive. That is the crime and the miracle.

There was a time in my life when I thought everything was going to be awesome.

How wrong I was.

We moved into this reasonably okay house, in an okayish part of town. You know the sort – two cars in the drive, fake plants in the windows, neighbours who shit themselves if someone owns a leather jacket that isn't from M&S.

There I was, riding my Yamaha 1100 Dragstar trike, wild long hair, beard that screamed “Hermit Wizard Biker,” wearing my cut and old jeans – California on a budget, but stuck in rainy middle England. I was about 57 then. Full of ideas. Full of hope. Full of medical cannabis.

And there was Albertine – goddess incarnate, riding her Triumph Bonneville like a Valkyrie on wheels. Leather trousers, biker boots, that horny, savage biker queen look that made grown men weep into their pints. Long dark hair whipping the wind, eyes like stormclouds and fire combined. She looked like she’d ride through the gates of Valhalla just to flick the V’s at Odin before burning rubber into the void.

I tried to do some DIY. Didn’t go well. Many accidents, broken bones, ambulances, heart attack at the local refuse tip. Carried on regardless because, well, I’m me. Heart running at 60%, they said. Meh. Go home, they said. Blah blah fucking blah.

But this is where the fun really began.

The neighbours. Gods. They hated us before the kettle even boiled. They saw my trike. They saw her Bonneville. They saw our hair. Our leathers. Our old biker boots. That was enough. Judged. Condemned. Executed by gossip.

But they didn’t know who they were fucking with.

I was Warlock. Spiritual Radio Shock Jock. Dark Gandalf. She was Albertine, Valkyrie Biker Oracle. We had Multiple Sclerosis, PTSD, heart disease, psychic powers, and a list of medical issues as long as their Deliveroo orders combined. Nothing phases us anymore. You can hit us, hurt us, say hurty words – we just laugh and smile because we’re already dying, slowly, hilariously, and publicly.

One day the bloke next door tried to intimidate me, bragging about being a bouncer. I laughed. Told him I used to be a bouncer too. His face dropped like my blood pressure on cannabis oil. From then on, if I was in the garden, he ran in. If I was in the shop, he ran out. It was like having my own personal game of Pac-Man.

His wife ran the show, obviously. Poor sod.

Best bit? He offered to sell me weed once, knowing I had MS. I said no. Later, he smelled my vape and threatened to call the police. Solicitors got involved. Absolute circus. I laughed harder. It was medical marijuana. Karma’s a bitch, mate.

But we stood our ground. Never showed fear. Didn’t need to. Because deep down, he knew we were the real wizards, and he was just a frightened little man in a tracksuit who thought his wife’s approval was worth more than his soul.

I am a disabled wheelchair user. I’m a long-haired, bearded 65-year-old eccentric warlock on a spiritual journey, seeking portals to other realms where people love instead of hate. Where cosmic pea soup realities collide and no one gives a shit about your beard or your wheels.

Just divine love, freedom, and the multiverse’s endless electric embrace.

Simple really.

But brain fog incoming… so I’ll leave it there, Gandalf out.

                                       !!DISCLAIMER !! 

This blog shares raw and personal experiences with mental and physical health. Some posts may be triggering. I'm not a professional - just writing my truth. Please don't take this as medical advice.

                     “The views in this post are based on my personal     
                         experience. I do not intend harm, only honesty.”   

                                 “By ink and breath and sacred rage, I write.
                                           By storm and silence, I survive.”

                              @goblinbloggeruk   sick@mylivinghell.co.uk

So I dove into medical marijuana—not literally, though falling headfirst into a sack of flower sounds kind of comforting right now. But yeah, here we go.

Do I personally think medical cannabis (flower and THC-CBD oil) has helped me?

Yes. Yes indeed.

But let’s rewind the VHS to the 1970s. Picture it: secret greenhouses in sheds, hidden like Cold War bunkers, where growers whispered to their plants like they were the Messiah. I’ve been smoking Mary Jane since she wore flares and listened to Pink Floyd on vinyl. Long before your wellness influencers made it trendy with avocado toast and crystals.

I only vape these days. No tobacco—because, apparently, that’s “bad for you.” Allegedly.

Chronic Hell, Meet Green Salvation My pain is biblical. My spasms? Think exorcism, but with less Latin and more bone-snapping contortions. My body goes full Cirque du Soleil without consent. And you know what helps?

Medical-grade cannabis.

They finally made it legal in the UK (sort of, in that "you can have it, but good luck affording it" kind of way). So I did the dance: filled out forms, proved I’m broken, gave them my medical records, swore on my own spinal cord—and voilà. Legal weed. I just smiled like a man who finally got invited to the cool table... 40 years late.

It’s not free. Of course it’s not. Nothing good ever is. But it’s worth it. No side effects, no weirdness—just help.

So What Does It Actually Do? Well, it doesn’t turn me into Gandalf or cure MS (I checked). But it:

Lessens my spasms by about 30%

Helps calm my body’s electric storm of spasticity

Softens the pain—not erases it, but dulls it enough so I can breathe again

Evens out my mood (though I’m still delightfully twisted and full of sarcasm)

Lets me live a calmer, less rage-inducing existence

THC-CBD oil, in particular, is liquid zen. The flower? A pain-relieving smoke cloud that takes the edge off reality. And reality has many, many sharp edges.

And Then the MS Said “Plot Twist!” But hey, it’s not all rainbows and reefer. Just an hour ago, I had a full-blown bowel incident. Pain, sweats, the works. The kind of pain that makes you question whether your intestines have unionised and gone on strike. MS is a cruel and confusing beast. It’s got more plot twists than a Netflix thriller, and most of them involve sweat, cramps, and existential dread.

And where are wheelchair services? Missing in action. Four months and counting. My MS nurse? On an eternal holiday in some parallel dimension where no one has to reply to emails.

Holidays for me? Ha. Unless your idea of fun is custom food prep, dodgy bowels, and extreme heat sensitivity. Sign me up for the Hell Cruise 2025.

Closing Thoughts from the Padded Room So yes, medical cannabis helps me. But this body is still a riot. The spoons are gone. The demon weed whacker was round earlier and now I’m emotionally broken, physically drained, and ready to weep into a vape pen.

But you know what? I’m still here. Still rolling, ranting, and roasting life with dark English humour and a beard that’s survived the 70s, the 80s, and now the end of the NHS.

Sleep, that precious thang. Come and get me.

               “The views in this post are based on my personal       
                   experience. I do not intend harm, only honesty.”   

                 “By ink and breath and sacred rage, I write.
                     By storm and silence, I survive.”

             @goblinbloggeruk   sick@mylivinghell.co.uk