Introducing CannaMed Chey

Chey E. Cobb, Prof CannaMed
5 min readOct 22, 2021
CannaMed Chey, medical cannabis educator

I realize that coming to you as a self-professed expert in medical cannabis, out of the blue, without references or medical pedigree, is quite unusual, so I understand any reticence you may have in accepting me as an expert voice on the subject. My previous career as a cyber security expert for the US/UK military & intelligence communities probably makes me seem an unlikely source of knowledge but I am, at heart, a researcher and an educator. My career has been spent diving into new and complex data and explaining it to a broad range of audiences; from neophytes to executive decision makers to master’s degree students and industry professionals. However, at the height of my career, I was struck down by debilitating health conditions and I withdrew from the world.

I was reluctant to try cannabis-based medicine. Although I had used cannabis as a recreational drug in my younger days, it had not been part of my adult lifestyle for decades. Frankly, I was sceptical that cannabis would be effective, so when I began using it almost 10 years ago, I was shocked by the profoundly positive changes it made to my health and quality of life.

I’m still disabled, but cannabinoids released me from dependency on a level of doctor-prescribed opiates that could kill ten men. Using cannabis, I replaced powerful opiates and opioids relatively quickly and easily, and without withdrawal symptoms or complicated routines, even though I had been using them for many, many years. I had not anticipated replacing opioid meds with cannabis-based meds, it just happened. I found I could easily skip doses without experiencing any adverse effects. In less than a year I had replaced 140mg of morphine with 20mg-40mg of THC daily.

Although I still hurt and have trouble moving around, I’m no longer bothered by my pains, and my debilitating migraine attacks are a distant memory. THC and CBD also cleared my unrelenting brain fog and my senses were not dulled as they were on opiates. I am not intoxicated on my THC meds and I no longer suffer from depression.

When I experienced a severe brain haemorrhage two years ago, my doctors attributed the limited damage I suffered and my fast recovery to the neuroprotective effects of my years of taking cannabis-based medicines. However, while California may appear to be a medical marijuana paradise, the reality is really quite different. Individuals seeking the right therapeutics for their particular health needs can find it to be a lonely, confusing, and lengthy journey. The situation is made worse by the enormous quantity of books and articles that are still chock-a-block with erroneous advice, myths, and fallacies.

The fact that much of the language surrounding medicinal cannabis originates from the street drug scene is a huge barrier to understanding, especially amongst doctors. Slang terminology does not translate well to medical research. Cannabis jargon does not have concrete definitions and the usage and meaning of one word can vary greatly, according to different industries, regions, and cultures. Misunderstanding and misconception in the medical and research communities are rife; too often we all speak at cross purposes about cannabis without realizing it.

To be frank, it was through much trial and error that I stumbled upon the right cannabis products for me and arrived at my therapeutic dosage. However, once I discovered what worked for me, I wanted to know why. I wanted to know how. I wanted to know everything.

Fortunately, I lived in an area with multiple medical cannabis research facilities, like the Center for Medicinal Cannabis Research (CMCR) in San Diego (https://cmcr.ucsd.edu/). So, I wrote to their leading cannabis researchers and asked questions. Many questions. I found they were very generous in sharing their knowledge. Even the famed Dr Raphael Mechoulam answered my emails. https://www.forbes.com/sites/javierhasse/2020/07/12/dr-mechoulam/

I attended conferences like the “Marijuana and Cannabinoids: A Neuroscience Research Summit” sponsored by the National Institutes of Health (NIH) near Washington DC. (https://www.drugabuse.gov/sites/default/files/briefmjsummitmeetingsummary.pdf) I also devoured med school textbooks on cell biology, neurochemistry, and the pharmacology of cannabinoids. Then I broadened my research into cannabis farming, harvesting, distribution, extraction and manufacturing industries. I investigated the medical cannabis laws in the US and around the world, as well as the ethical and civil rights issues. Eventually I passed the cannabis training courses for doctors and nurses and received a cannabis counsellor certification.

During this period, I helped parents with epileptic children to convince their paediatric neurologists to let them try CBD to control their child’s seizures. I established easy protocols for parents to follow and was just beginning to write a resource guide/textbook for medical schools when I woke up one night with the Mother-Of-All-Migraines. The migraine turned out to be a subarachnoid haemorrhage. I spent almost month in ICU and nearly missed our long-planned flight to England as part of my partner’s relocation and retirement strategy.

After getting settled back in the UK, I began researching the country’s medical cannabis industry. In many ways I felt like I had stepped back in time because the market was where it was when I started my research ten years ago. NHS doctors are reticent about prescribing drugs they have no experience with and media stories is full of sensationalism, suspicions, and total misunderstanding of medical cannabis. Pharmacies are limited in what cannabis-based meds they can carry and the staff don’t understand the lingo. On the other hand, the UK medical cannabis industry is well-situated to avoid many of the mistakes made in America.

It’s funny to think that it wasn’t the hippie movement of the 1960s or cannabis education that changed doctors’ attitudes towards cannabis. It was seeing their own chronically ill patients, who secretly admitted to using it, experiencing a better quality of life without. Doctors could not deny that their patients used less pain medicines, were better able to participate in normal life, and generally felt their lives were worth living again. They also noted that cannabis was exceptionally safe (in that it cannot kill you), does not create physical addiction, and that cannabis intoxication was not a major impediment. Like many drugs with odd side effects, you become accustomed to the sensations and don’t feel incapacitated.

It took me quite a while to understand how to obtain a legal UK prescription for cannabis meds, and of course, the disruptions caused by Brexit and the COVID-19 pandemic did not help. Now I am in the process of writing my cannabis book once again and with practical and educational material for patients, caregivers, doctors, legislators, journalists, and the just plain curious.

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