Pubdate: Wed, 30 Mar 2005
Source: North Bay Bohemian, The (CA)
Copyright: 2005 Metro Publishing Inc.
Contact:  http://www.bohemian.com/
Details: http://www.mapinc.org/media/1753
Author: R. V. Scheide
Bookmark: http://www.mapinc.org/mmj.htm (Cannabis - Medicinal)

REEFER MADNESS

What is it about medical marijuana that makes everyone act so
funny?

Marijuana can make people do funny things. Take journalists, for
instance. For the past several weeks, the Santa Rosa Press Democrat
has run a series of news stories and opinion pieces that have taken a
decidedly negative slant on Santa Rosa's three medical marijuana
dispensaries, more popularly known as cannabis clubs. In a March 17
column titled "Death to the Medical Cannabis Club," columnist Chris
Smith wrote that "the needs of legitimate patients are overshadowed by
the inevitable comings and goings of fakers, rip-offs, dealers and
recreational pot-heads."

Strong words, and one might presume that Smith had visited at least
one of the three clubs before making such a harsh judgment. After all,
one of the dispensaries, Resource Green Caregiver and Patients Group,
is a mere six blocks from the Press Democrat's offices. However, such
was not the case.

"No, I did not got to any of the medical marijuana clubs in Santa
Rosa," Smith admitted to the Bohemian.

Press Democrat reporter Paul Payne did visit Resource Green before
writing his March 16 story on cannabis clubs, titled "SR Medical
Marijuana Club Leaves Neighbors Fuming." The problem is that Payne,
according to allegations by three individual sources who were at the
club, failed to identify himself as a reporter when he first showed up
outside. One patient, disturbed by the incognito journalist's
questions, immediately notified a Resource Green security guard, who
escorted Payne off the premises.

But the incident was not mentioned in Payne's story, which voiced the
unsubstantiated claims of several neighbors that lax security at the
club had led to, in the words of one resident, "wholesale drug
trafficking in my neighborhood."

If these were the only discrepancies in the Press Democrat's coverage,
they might be forgiven as honest mistakes. Unfortunately, they're just
the tip of the iceberg. For example, in Payne's first story, one
resident complains about "healthy twenty-something customers," and a
subsequent Press Democrat editorial mentions "streams of young people
coming and going." Editorial director Pete Golis, in a March 23
opinion piece, comments on "the astonishing number of young men coming
and going at one pot club," and jokes that an "unexplained health
menace threatens young men in Santa Rosa; health officials launch
investigation."

The unspoken assumption is that people in their 20s couldn't possibly
be sick enough to qualify for a medical marijuana recommendation. This
is of course an erroneous assumption.

"The twenty-something thing is deceptive," says Doc Knapp, a spokesman
for the Sonoma County Alliance for Medical Marijuana (SAMM) who's been
surprised at the Press Democrat's recent bias. "You really can't judge
a book by its cover."

If Resource Green's security hadn't been so tight and if Payne's
interview with the healthy-looking 25-year-old man who turned him in
had gotten off to a better start, the Press Democrat might have
realized that.

Santa Rosa resident Jeffrey Borchert can't be blamed for feeling
paranoid. In 1998 he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. "I didn't know
what it meant or anything," Borchert explains haltingly in a backroom
at Resource Green, struggling against the numbing effect of the
antipsychotic medication Zyprexa, prescribed by his doctor in
combination with the antidepressant Prozac to treat his mental
illness. That same doctor gave Borchert the green light to seek a
medical marijuana recommendation to augment the prescription
medication, and after receiving his recommendation from a qualified
physician, Borchert became one of the 2,500 registered patients who
receive their medical marijuana from Resource Green.

Located near the corner of Santa Rosa and Sonoma avenues, Resource
Green has become a safe haven for Jeffrey Borchert and hundreds of
other local medical marijuana patients. Because he does not like to
drive, Borchert can take the bus from home to the Santa Rosa Transit
Mall, a few blocks away from the club. Once at the club, he says, "no
one gives me problems, it's pretty much in and out."

On the day of Payne's first visit to Resource Green, Borchert's father
gave him a ride to the club and witnessed the reporter (he had no way
of knowing who it was at the time) approach his son and several other
people parked outside. "I didn't hear what he said, but Jeffrey
immediately ran over to the club's security guard," says the elder
Borchert. Jeffrey Borchert alleges that Payne "asked me if I was going
to the clinic and could I get him something."

"The pot-club customer [Borchert] is mistaken," Payne responds when
told of the allegation. "I made absolutely no attempt to buy marijuana."

Reuben, the Resource Green security guard Borchert notified, is also a
medical marijuana patient and, like several other patients interviewed
for this story, refused to divulge his last name for fear of being
hassled by law-enforcement officials.

"I went over to talk to the guy," Reuben says. "I said, 'Excuse me,
you can't be asking patients to buy marijuana for you. You need to
leave.' I didn't ask him. I told him."

Payne left and returned 10 minutes later, identified himself as a
Press Democrat reporter and was admitted to the club, Reuben says.
Payne avers that he identified himself properly immediately upon
meeting Reuben.

Why isn't the incident mentioned in Payne's story? That's impossible
to say for certain. However, its absence does fit the overall pattern
of the Press Democrat's recent coverage of cannabis clubs, which has
repeatedly relied on innuendo, unverified allegations, stereotyping
and taking facts out of context.

For starters, consider how the Press Democrat describes the club's
location. In his column, Smith describes the club as being "a stone's
throw from Santa Rosa City Hall, a park and a grammar school." While
the club is indeed in the vicinity of all three, it would take quite a
heave to hit the school with a rock. Resource Green CEO Ken Haus says
he personally measured the distance and found it to be well over 1,000
feet, the buffer zone required by SB 420, which along with Proposition
215, the Compassionate Use Act of 1996, created the quasilegal
framework in which medical cannabis clubs operate.

Moreover, neither Smith's column nor Golis' editorial mentions that
the park in question is the notorious Juilliard Park, long a hangout
for transients and runaways who spill over into the adjacent
neighborhood. The park remains a trouble spot for the Santa Rosa
Police Department to this day.

In the Press Democrat coverage, it is repeatedly stated that public
officials have been blindsided by the sudden appearance of three
medical pot clubs in the city, yet Haus says when the club first
opened last May, mission statements were mailed to all local
government officials who might have a concern with the club. Haus'
former business partner says he even left a phone message with Santa
Rosa mayor Jane Bender, telling her that the club had opened and to
call if she had any concerns. Bender, who recently told the Press
Democrat that "three clubs is too many," never called back. Despite
receiving repeated messages, Bender had not returned calls to the
Bohemian by press time.

"All of these dudes have known that we've been here from the very
beginning," says Haus.

"This has never been a thing where they were flying below the radar,"
says Chris Andrian, the attorney who represents Resource Green.
"They've been very up front with everything they've done."

The Press Democrat stories also report that the Santa Rosa Police
Department has taken a "neutral" approach to the clubs, which came as
a surprise to Haus, who says the club has been visited more than a
half-dozen times by the police.

During one visit, he says, police attempted to gather information
about the patients who grow marijuana for Resource Green. Andrian
advised Haus not to give the police the information. "It's none of
their business," he says.

"The notion that I'm running a wholesale drug ring is absurd," Haus
fumes, adding that club security has so far caught some 20 members
attempting to redistribute medical marijuana outside the club--a small
percentage, considering Resource Green has 2,500 members--all of whom
had their memberships permanently revoked. "We're going to catch them,
and they're not going to be allowed back," says Haus.

When asked to name any incident of illegality associated with the
three medical marijuana clubs in town, Lt. Jerry Briggs of the Santa
Rosa Police Department could only note that North Bay Collective,
located on Steele Lane, and Caregivers Compassion Center, located on
Montgomery Drive, have each been burglarized. He admitted that neither
Resource Green nor any of its patients have been cited for anything,
marijuana-related or otherwise, and said local law enforcement's
skepticism toward the clubs has been fostered by "overwhelming
anecdotal evidence" coming from cities such as Oakland and San
Francisco, currently experiencing their own problems with the issue.

"I don't mind the police presence," Haus says, adding that he has more
of an interest than anyone in ensuring that his clients are safe and
obey the club's rules. "What I do mind is people putting a negative
spin on my business. It's quite apparent that the Press Democrat has
an agenda: to shed a negative light on Resource Green."

A red cross painted above a black wrought-iron security door, locked
from both sides, marks the entrance to Resource Green. A security
guard stands outside. To gain entry, patients must present a valid ID
card to another guard stationed behind the door.

Once inside the narrow quarters, it's fairly understandable why some
people get the wrong idea about the medical marijuana dispensary. A
steady flow of patients, young and old alike, funnel in and out of the
club, eyeballing the various strains of high grade marijuana--Purple
Urkle, Sweet Nightmare, Morning Star, Satory, Legend, Super Mix and
Sweet Outdoor--that bristle with potency beneath a glass countertop.
There's a mural based on Pink Floyd's The Wall opposite the case, rock
music blares in the background, and although Haus technically doesn't
allow patients to toke up in the club, he makes the occasional
exception for those in dire need of medication, so there's a faint
whiff of vaporized pot in the air. It feels like a combination between
the Haight-Ashbury Free Clinic and a head shop.

However, what becomes abundantly clear after interviewing numerous
patients at the club is that most of them, if not all, are seriously
ill. In fact, every patient interviewed by the Bohemian, including a
number of so-called healthy looking 20-year-olds, presented valid
reasons for his or her medical marijuana recommendation.

If there is a single common denominator uniting the patients, it is
chronic pain.

Dr. Gene Schoenfeld of Sausalito is one of only two North Bay
physicians on pro-marijuana organization CalNORML's list of doctors
willing to grant medical marijuana recommendations. A psychiatrist, he
occasionally makes a marijuana recommendation for mental illness, but
most patients seek him out for pain issues.

"Most medical marijuana recommendations are for chronic pain--back
pain, headaches, spastic diseases," he says. "Medical marijuana can
relieve pain directly, or indirectly, by relieving the anxiety, the
fear that comes with the onset of chronic pain."

For example, Resource Green patient Karl Nonamaker, 54, was struck by
a drunk driver while riding his Harley on his 37th birthday. He lost
an eye and his left leg above the knee, and suffered extensive nerve
damage. He also suffers from arthritis and bipolar disorder.

"I've been smoking pot a long time," he says, adding that as soon as
voters passed Proposition 215, he immediately sought and received a
recommendation to treat chronic pain syndrome with marijuana. "It
really helps me get through the day."

It would be difficult to find a healthier looking 20-year-old than
Andrew, a handsome Latino dressed in jeans and red sweatshirt perusing
the various strains of marijuana on display--until Andrew holds out
his left hand, revealing a thick white scar that goes more than
halfway through his wrist, the result of work accident that severed
five tendons. He's currently awaiting his third surgery on the wrist.
Chronic pain keeps him up at night, so his doctor originally
prescribed the painkiller Vicodin. Andrew quickly got strung out on
the drug, which also causes nasty stomachaches. Since obtaining his
medical marijuana recommendation, he can sleep at night and he's been
able to get off Vicodin.

The look on 44-year-old Brian Wims' face is so angry and intense, it
seems reasonable to wonder why he's so pissed off. Then Wims relates
that he was the third person diagnosed with AIDS in Sonoma County. At
one point, the disease was full-blown and nearly took his life.
Because of his depleted immune system, he's battled a variety of
different cancers, and is currently struggling with lymphoma. The
medication he takes makes him nauseous, and it's difficult to eat. He
is in constant agony; his face is a veritable mask of pain, until he
starts speaking.

"Chronic pain is something you can't understand until you've
experienced it," Wims says. "I have tried different pharmaceuticals,
and they haven't touched it. Marijuana allows you to take that pain,
put it in a box and manage it." Eddie Garcia, 53, concurs. For the
past year and a half, he's endured a pinched sciatic nerve that has
left him wheelchair-bound. "Medical marijuana doesn't take all the
pain away, but it makes it bearable," he says.

Surely Gary, 19, a healthy-looking dreadlocked junior college student
who hopes to study physics at UC Berkeley in the fall, must be one of
those "fakers" alluded to by columnist Chris Smith. Sorry. "I've had
migraines all my life," Gary explains. His doctor at Kaiser advised
him to keep a journal and take Advil. Later, a neurologist diagnosed
him with cluster headaches and recommended stretching. Nothing
worked--until he received a medical marijuana recommendation.

"It doesn't relieve the headaches completely, but instead of having to
lie down for four hours, I can smoke a small amount. and I'm able to
cope," he says. Resource Green operations manager Melissa Gordon, 25,
also suffers from migraines and finds that marijuana "alleviates the
pain and pressure inside my head." Likewise, CEO Ken Haus, 34, has
chronic-pain issues, thanks to osteoarthritis in his spine. He was
originally prescribed the powerful painkiller Oxycontin for the
condition. "Coming off it was unlike anything I've ever experienced,"
he says. "I had cold sweats, the shakes and terrible stomachaches for
weeks."

In the Spring issue of O'Shaughnessy's: The Journal of Cannabis in
Clinical Practice, Dr. Jeff Hergenrather of Sebastopol--the other
North Bay physician on CalNORML's list--writes that the reduced use of
pharmaceuticals is a recurring theme he's finding among his medical
marijuana patients.

"In many cases, conventional treatments are as problematic as the
diseases themselves," he writes. "Patients who have chosen cannabis as
an alternative treatment for these conditions often confide to
cannabis specialists that they have been able to reduce their use of
pharmaceutical drugs. It is a recurring theme, and a significant one."

Dr. Hergenrather says that there are now more than 200 conditions
described in the ninth revision of the International Classification of
Diseases that are considered treatable by medical marijuana. Many of
these diseases do not practice age discrimination.

"How are you going to recognize a 20-year-old who has a seizure
disorder?" he asks rhetorically. "On the other hand, I don't want to
pretend that there isn't some use that's recreational."

Virtually no one involved in the controversy disputes the fact that
the framework laid out by Proposition 215 and SB 420 is imperfect. The
Compassionate Use Act opened the door for patients to legally use
marijuana for medical purposes, but physicians are not allowed to
prescribe it, which is why it's called a "recommendation." Senate Bill
420's language is even more vague, allowing patients to form
collectives to grow and distribute medical marijuana to fellow
patients, but stopping short of defining just what a collective might
be--for instance, a cannabis club like Resource Green.

"It's like they legalized milk but didn't legalize cows," says Bill
Panzer, an Oakland attorney who has handled many high-profile medical
marijuana cases.

"It's not that the state doesn't need to be involved; it's that the
state has refused to be involved."

Yet it is this imperfect framework in which medical marijuana
dispensaries like Resource Green must operate, leading to constructs
that challenge the conventional wisdom of what healthcare can be. For
example, Resource Green CEO Ken Haus and operations manager Melissa
Gordon are also patients--according to SB 420, they have to be in
order to provide medical marijuana to fellow patients.

Haus says the club obtains its marijuana from approximately 250 local
patient-growers who are also Resource Green members, again expanding
on the idea of the "collective." Legally speaking, patients are not
"customers" that "buy" medical marijuana from Resource Green, as
reported by the Press Democrat. That's because the law does not permit
anyone to profit from the sale of medical marijuana. Instead, a
practice known as "cost recovery exchange" is employed.

Patient-growers are allowed to recover the costs of the money and
labor spent cultivating their crops--but no more than that--by
charging caregivers like Haus for their product. They are also
required to complete a 1099 form for the IRS. In turn, Resource Green
is allowed to recover its medical marijuana costs by passing it on to
its patients. Sonoma County medical marijuana guidelines pioneered by
SAMM allow patients to obtain up to four and a half ounces per month,
or three pounds a year--a measure that the club meticulously tracks
for each patient with a computer program, right down to the last gram.
Currently, prices for an eighth of an ounce range from $30 to $50.

In order for a patient to receive medical marijuana from a dispensary,
he or she must first receive a recommendation from a physician. Drs.
Schoenfeld and Hergenrather both conduct an extensive interview
process, reviewing the patient's medical records and contacting the
referring physicians before making a recommendation. They also require
follow-up visits. The patient takes the recommendation to a club like
Resource Green to get the "prescription" filled. Resource Green
validates every recommendation by checking the physician's status with
the California Medical Association and by directly contacting the
physician before the patient is granted a Resource Green ID card.

Ironing out the recommendation process is the key to California's
medical marijuana controversy, and both Drs. Schoenfeld and
Hergenrather are acutely aware that there are a few unscrupulous
physicians throughout the state running what have become known as
"recommendation mills," where patients are issued recommendations
after a short cursory examination with no follow-up
appointments.

"It's not the clubs' fault," says Panzer. "They can't second-guess
doctors."

Such nuances in the law have received scant attention in the Press
Democrat's coverage of the controversy so far. Instead, the reports
have relied mainly on the complaints of a single neighbor, Rayburn
Killion, an attorney who lives a few houses down from Resource Green's
alleyway. Yet Killion himself seems slightly confused about the issue.
One day, he's accusing Resource Green of "wholesale drug trafficking"
in the daily newspaper, the next he's calling the club up and thanking
them for doing such a swell job with their security.

"It comes and goes," he told the Bohemian. "I'm trying not to be
obsessed about it."

Killion says he has observed people parked in his driveway breaking up
bags of marijuana, passengers waiting in cars getting out and
urinating behind the PG&E substation across the street from his house,
and people exchanging money before entering Resource Green. He says
that in the first case, he's only guessing that the people parked in
his driveway came from the club. His major issue appears to be the
increased traffic on the street thanks to the club's tiny parking
area. "I'd like to make it clear that I'm not against medical
marijuana," he says.

Last week, Melissa Gordon made the rounds of the neighborhood, handing
out fliers to inform neighbors the club is doing everything it can to
keep the area safe. She talked to 20 residents, Killion included, and
no one had any complaints. Most had been unaware of the club until the
Press Democrat's recent coverage.

"What happened is that an incident came to reflect the whole
movement," says Doc Knapp, the SAMM spokesman. "That's just a
distortion of the movement. By and large, we find that patients are
discreet. Once you get in a situation where neighbors are complaining
or going to the city council, it's news and should be reported, but
throwing the baby out with the bathwater is not a good technique."
- ---
MAP posted-by: Derek