April 20, 2021. I mean, what a date, right? 420 is such a large number in the lives of my canna-fam. However, 4/20/* has tended to be a milestone throughout the years of my life.
I ventured from a young man into adulthood with a lovely lady. We were happy, and life was good. Unfortunately, I was in a tragic accident in 2008. The man that the world had known before the event was no more. (James Matthew Cruce or Matt fell from his wall, took a great fall, and never put back together again.)
However, I am James! And James is Great! I was able to claw my way back from the confines of my mind, a prison that had all its doors unlocked, devoid of guards, and unfamiliar to even myself. I could only imagine the horror of sharing a reality with an entity you do not know or ask to be there. Every day must have been like a sentence being served by her also, but I digress.
To rekindle the flames of what once was, the woman and new man were married on 04/20/2013. A last-ditch effort that I cannot blame her for but bound to fail, having already been together for 13 years. Still, we were strangers who lived under the same roof and had sex; we did try, yet, like the man once known as matt, our former love was no more. The crazy thing was only two things came to mind when I opened my eyes from the coma. Sadly, she was not one of them.
The first and most important thing (after the shock) that I thought of was cannabis. The ‘I’ part of my brain or the ‘ego’ did not yet know it was a need at the time, but the ‘id’ part of my brain sure did. Now one might be thinking, wow, what a stoner!
Quite frankly, you would be correct, but in my defense, the endocannabinoid system plays a major role in neural cell fate regulation. Simply put, cannabinoids are necessary for making New brain-cells. Moreover, I had been abstaining for weeks and, my subconsciousness was no longer having any part of that!
On autopilot, I began begging my family, the staff, and even strangers to help me find this magical plant to no avail. Hindsight being what it is, I can only laugh when I imagine the horror that I must have been! The trauma left my visage in a terrible state that would weep blood from the thousands of sutures and staples that held my still unhealed face together. What a sight I must have been!
Addle-minded yet in the best shape of my life, the hospital was at a loss after coxing me into a bed and off to sleep, then chaining me down like a prisoner, only to have me awaken to captivity. I had no clue what was happening. The nurses would calm me down, having to explain to me what was happening moments after they had just completed this task. The staff at Grady hospital in Atlanta, Georgia, put in all the correct work and was in no way lacking. Still, I destroyed a few beds following the countless hours of howling to no one at all, “what are the charges?” No one had prepared for the man that is James, least of all himself.
After a few days and empty beds, I had formed a tentative truce with the nurses and was left to wander around the hospital grounds alone. That would prove to be a mistake on their part. Still running on autopilot, I had secretly formulated a plan of escape, and when the time had come to pass, I wasted no time in leaping to action.
Stitched together like a Frankenstein monster, armed with an infusion pump stand, and garbed in my trusted gown, I set off to attain some fine smoking herbs. Careful not to trip any hospital alarms, I crept out of an employee entrance onto the parking deck. Thinking I moved with purpose and was in full incognito, I swiftly moved down the flights of stairs, finally spilling out onto the streets of midtown proper.
Just because one thinks they are blending in and moving with stealth does not make one hidden. Even in the best circumstances, grown men running around in hospital gowns tend to cause a disturbance; these were not the best conditions. Hospital security had been alerted about my escape long before I made it to the street, where the hospital staff found me with an off-duty police officer. The poor man was an incidental victim of logic and logistics that left him shaken, with his gun drawn.
I had stumbled upon him and somehow concluded that yes, this is an individual who knows where to find me the THC that I needed. Even had I not made a beeline to him; the man could see that I was in duress and would have most likely acted. Yet, with multiple hospital armbands and the drip I had in tow, my butt exposed from the gown, and the swelling from my forehead protruding over my eye, the man was not taking a chance. Like a mad man, I was rambling about how the man was a cop and that he would have no problems going to get it for me. I informed him that I needed to smoke a joint. I did not know where I was in this crazy new world. I assured him it was ok. I told him no need to have a gun out. Just get me the herb, and that I would be waiting for him to get back.
Much to the officers’ relief, the hospital staff had arrived and moved to take charge of me. The event proved to be too much for all parties involved, so Grady decided to discharge me that very day.
My wife was told that I would heal better at home and informed that I had to leave. We were left to collect my belongings as word of my adventure spread throughout the family tree.
These murmurs swiftly changed into action resulting in me coming into possession of that flower I sought before leaving the hospital. Brought to me by my blood, I inhaled my first taste of normalcy, at last, my first dose of cannabis since first opening my eyes. I still recall how everything came into focus with that first joint. I started to make new neurological connections and truly placing events on a timeline that I could reference later.
The road to recovery was long and arduous. Taking a hit of cannabis did not ‘fix’ me. But it did jump-start the systems required to expedite that healing process.
My next meaningful memory was about Evernight, an online game that would have such an impact on who I was and was to become. I had purchased my very first pc to play it on back in 2000.
Without venturing too far down the rabbit hole, let us take a short trip back in history to bring this back to the topic at hand. I would create an account named wyrm419, with the logic behind it being that I always have a minute to spare for weed. 419 + 1 == 420; you see how this is working out?
That online game was a part of my life longer than my ex-wife and, in many ways, still is even though I stopped playing the game many years ago. I went to college after the opportunity arose and took up my program of study with it in mind. Ultimately, I would gain advanced training in my chosen field wearing the colors of an owner. Simply put, the world has Evernight the Reign of Darkness to thank for jCruceweb.
To be continued, perhaps.