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I was a chronic weed smoker for the last several years. I smoked from the time I got up to the time I brushed my teeth for bed. Way back in the '70's when I was a cigarette smoker, I remember always having to light up after a meal, and although I haven't smoked cigarettes since 1980, I did the same song and dance with weed. I tried to make a point of going a half hour between bong hits, but because I smoked so much of it, I was only really getting high for about 15 minutes if it was a good hit. After my 15-minute high was over I'd spend the next 15 minutes figuratively watching the clock.

All that came crashing down last month.

I went to bed feeling fine, but woke up with horrible abdominal pain, diarrhea, and puking my guts out. It didn't improve all morning, I just kept alternating between bed and bathroom. By this time Brenda had had enough and called an ambulance. I was carted off to the hospital where I spent the next three days. My electrolytes were dangerously low--to the point of an impending heart attack. Potassium was also in the danger zone. While these were being restored I was also being subjected to test after test after test. My arms were pincushions. My weight had gone down to 140lbs., which is what I weighed when I was a kid at 18 years old.

It appears that I was a victim of my excesses.

I've read quite a few articles since then about my malady, and it's becoming much more common. They're calling it "Cannabis Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS)." Today's cannabis is extremely more potent than anything we smoked in the '70's. It's been so selectively-bred that it's become an organic medicine in its purity. 

That bong hit before I went to bed that evening was my last. There was no fuss from me about giving it up--I did so very willingly. I was in such bad shape that it actually helped me quit. I had no cravings, only the occasional "it'd be nice to have a hit of weed" every now and then.

My recovery has been pretty good. My weight is back, and sickness reset my digestive system, so it's functioning better than ever.

My sickness and hospital stay also had another effect.

For quite some time now Brenda has been after me to get a yard maintenance service to care for our yard. She was always concerned about me being out there mowing in 90+ degree sun. The thing is, I liked doing yard work in the sun because I could be nude and get a no-line suntan while I worked. Yeah, I did have times when I would get light-headed, but I always attributed those to standing up too fast, or being a little stoned.

She finally won out. It took something as desperate as a near heart attack for me to cave, but I finally relented. We hired the same people that take care of our next-door neighbor's yard. Their first visit was for the initial cleanup. They weeded everything, edged everywhere, mowed and fertilized the lawn, took out a couple bushes and part of a diseased tree, pruned all the remaining bushes, and laid down 7 cubic yards of mulch. There were 3 or 4 guys here for 6 hours on a Saturday doing it all. Since that day we're on a weekly maintenance schedule, and they show up every Monday.

I feel like a slacker now. As comedienne Rita Rudner used to say, "Men are good for two things: lawn care and vehicle maintenance." Well, now it's down to just vehicle maintenance for me then. On the plus side, our property has never looked better.

I guess you could say (in a roundabout way) the credit goes to weed.