My Cancer Journey
Life before cancer
I was born in the Black Forest, Germany in the late 1960s as the youngest of three daughters. In December 1992, I, meanwhile a successful buyer for a Swiss pharmaceutical company, visited my best friend, a nanny, in Northern California.
There, I met her boss, the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, who rescued me from a dangerous area and offered me my first joint. This experience shook my perceptions of cannabis, can it be as dangerous as I was taught when successful self-made businessmen smoked it!
Living in the San Francisco Bay Area since the mid 90's, I have seen the acceptance of cannabis change across all walks of life and ages. From underaged users who consume cannabis from the black market, to the elderly who use tinctures and pills from the cannabis shop. The corporate world prefers discreet options like vape pens, mints, and tinctures.
Initially, I didn't feel the effects of cannabis, so I didn't understand this widespread fascination. Curious by nature, I continued to experiment occasionally until finally experiencing my first high myself. Despite a positive experience, I rarely used cannabis in the following 20+ years because, like many others, I did not have a deep understanding of the targeted use of medical cannabis.
As an athlete, I used a variety of ointments, creams, and tinctures to treat muscle soreness, sprains, and bruises. The aftermath of a car accident and a botched dental procedure with conventional painkillers caused subsequent stomach problems with the next preparation. With melanoma in 2014, the world of medical cannabis opened up to me.
As an athlete, I used a variety of ointments, creams, and tinctures to treat sore muscles, sprains, and bruises. The use of conventional painkillers for chronic pain, results of a car accident and a botched dental procedure, caused subsequent stomach problems, which required another medication. With melanoma in 2014, the world of medicinal cannabis opened up to me.
Medicinal Cannabis, Cancer
and Chemotherapy
I am speaking about my personal experience regarding my treatments for melanoma, ovarian and NET cancer, surgeries, chemotherapy and the resulting permanent conditions such as lymphedema and neuropathy.
My journey with cannabis began in 2014, when a melanoma diagnosis prompted me to delve deeper into cannabis. To fully immerse myself in its study, I enrolled at the prestigious University of Oaksterdam in a degree program in "Cannabis". Where I was privileged to learn from world-renowned experts in the fields of history, law, horticulture, processing, research, therapeutic effects, and uses of cannabis.
Since graduating in 2015, I've mainly used homemade cannabis preparations for pain relief. With my extensive knowledge, I've honed my ability to carefully control the pain-relieving and euphoric effects through the strain and application method I choose. Whether it's using cannabis cream for scars, stiff necks, sore muscles, and skin irritations, cannabis suppositories for back pain, nausea, and loss of appetite, or cannabis pills for relaxing and a good night's sleep, I've found the perfect solution for each specific need. Additionally, tinctures and vaporizers are great for quick, discreet micro-doses to alleviate discomfort.
In 2018, I started offering cannabis workshops and individual consultations, specializing in alternative pain management, cancer care, and women's health. Another bout with cancer, abdominal surgeries, and chemotherapy led me to further expand my services to include cannabis cancer chemo coaching. I offer support and guidance to clients with new cancer diagnoses, drawing on my own experiences and those of others to show them how they too can survive chemotherapy with the help of cannabis, diet, meditation, and yoga. My goal is to demonstrate that even radical surgeries and cancer-related depression can be overcome without the use of opiates and antidepressants.
Chess before the Fight
My Picc Line Drama
I'm someone who prepares for all things controllable and plans as best as possible for the uncontrollable. Due to my life circumstances and professional experience, I had relatively few problems during my treatment compared to others. With an open and honest consultation beforehand, however, even more things could have been made easier or even avoided, such as my drama with the Picc Line.
Shortly after my surgery I was told I was going to have chemo and while I was still recovering I think port surgery should have been booked at that point as it takes at least 5 days to heal. In my case, it was delayed until the appointment with the oncologist, who wanted to start chemotherapy 10 days later. Since no port surgery was available so quickly, a picc line was placed in my left upper arm instead.
So on May 5th at 2pm my personal hell began. From the moment the male nurse poked my vein, I was in excruciating pain. He said 20% of patients are sensitive, but it would get better once he's done. The promised improvement was just relief, but the X-ray was clear and I was sent home with a promise that the pain would subside. The evening was bearable only thanks to cannabis, I felt something was wrong. Difficult to put into words, but as an athlete and generally active person, I know my body and know when something is wrong.
The next day I had an appointment for a Covid test in my oncologist's practice, as the port surgery was supposed to take place on the following Monday. When I expressed my concerns to the doctor, he examined my arm but found no worrisome signs of infection and sent me home. The pain stayed the same for the next few days. The port surgery was postponed from Monday to Friday because the surgeon was ill. On Wednesday, November 5th I got my first round of chemo via a picc line. Although the treatment worked, the pain was constant. The next day I was supposed to have build-up IVs, but the oncology nurse saw the first signs of wetness and decided to pull out the picc line. I felt immediate relief but a feeling of fullness and pressure remained. I discussed the forthcoming port surgery the next morning with my entire oncology team, but no one objected.
On Friday morning at 9am, after 2 hours of surgical preparations, just before I was due to go into the operating room, I was greeted by my surgeon and asked how I was feeling. I mentioned that I feel better without a picc line, which made him sit up and take notice. He asked me a few more questions and eventually refused to perform the surgery, suspecting possible infection. Instead, he sent me home with important information about the sepsis.
My oncologist and personal friend wanted me to visit him after the operation, so I visited him despite the failed operation. I continued to complain of upper arm pain which prompted him to book an ER ultrasound.
The hospital was a 5 minute walk from my oncologist's office and when I got there they were already waiting for me. The ultrasound was done within 10 minutes and while I was getting dressed the ultrasound technician got a call from the radiologist. She urged me to go to my oncologist immediately.
When I got there I was immediately ushered into a treatment room and just 5 minutes later I was in the arms of my oncologist. He was upset because I didn't have an infection, but an acute thrombosis in the left upper arm. There were no clinical signs of it, but knowing me, knowing I'm tough, and my mother's strokes in particular, prompted him to do the ultrasound.
The weekend that followed was terrible. I didn't know which was worse - the chemo or the thrombosis. Anyway, there were a few moments when the pain and pressure in my chest made me think of an ambulance. Cannabis got me through it.
Nerve wreaking
In the midst of crises we all doubt this wisdom, but almost 10 months later I can only confirm it. In the case of my second cancer diagnosis, I was often on the ground and asked HOW MUCH MORE. Today I know that everything had to happen like this and I am grateful for the lessons I received. As a certified project manager, I viewed my illness as a project and immediately activated my team and created plans. Unfortunately, life doesn't go according to plan and while I let countless preliminary examinations and surgical preparations pass over me, I found out that my dog had to have an eye removed. My ex who wants/should take care of the dogs and me gets COVID and his entry into the US is in question. The slightest misbehavior from my male and I explode, from 0 to 100 in seconds and to -100 just as quickly. On the outside, I'm composed and, thanks to cannabis, I'm really mastering living in the moment, but hardly anything works without wake & bake at this time.