Council turns blind eye, deaf ear to some in need

FLO MARTIN

The Costa Mesa City Council seems to be turning a blind eye and a

deaf ear to those of us who need help. Two items on Tuesday’s council

meeting agenda addressed the needs of many Costa Mesa residents -- a

need to be heard or a need for relief from pain.

The first is the decision to end funding and to disband the

controversial Human Relations Committee. Talk about throwing out the

baby with the bathwater. The Human Relations Committee has provided

Costa Mesa residents with a public forum to share divergent opinions,

to interact with all social and cultural segments of our community

and to provide an arena for resolution of otherwise divisive issues

that faced us. Recently, the committee had come under fire for being

too liberal, too activist, too “multicultural” or, in a nutshell, too

politicized. So, what did the “testosterone triumvirate” on the

council do? They voted to just say no and “throw the bums out.” Sad.

The second council vote involves closing the door on any possible

setting up of a medical marijuana dispensary within Costa Mesa city

limits. California voters have passed a proposition allowing for such

dispensaries. In fact, many states in the U.S. already have laws on

the books that permit medical use of marijuana. The feds, on the

other hand, said no, marijuana is bad for you anywhere and anytime,

and so they acted as beneficent, paternal do-gooders and voted

against allowing really sick people who desperately need relief from

pain to use marijuana. What happened to the idea of less government

interference in our lives? Aren’t we smart enough to make some adult

choices regarding our own medical care? Can’t we leave it to the

medical professionals to decide what kind of therapy is appropriate

for pain management? Addictive pain meds -- from morphine and

fentanyl on down to codeine -- are all highly controlled but still

allowed, so why not marijuana?

Starting in early 1979, my father, then 62, visited a chiropractor

weekly for relief for his neck pain. No relief came. Just the

opposite. During one visit, my dad actually heard his upper spine

area crunch and crack. He passed out in pain during that particular

“adjustment.” On occasion, Papa would lie on the floor of his living

room and writhe in pain -- back pain.

Later on that year, Papa lost use of his legs. A visit to his

medical doctor revealed a huge tumor in his lower back. The

diagnosis: multiple myeloma throughout his spinal column and rib

cage. The doctors told my dad that he was very sick and should set

his house in order. I remember the day we got the news. I jumped on a

plane, got a ride to the hospital and walked into my father’s room.

The sign on his door said “No Visitors,” and the curtain was drawn

around his bed. Pushing the curtain aside, I found my dad lying there

quietly looking at the wrist watch in his hand. He did not say

anything to me. I sat down and waited for recognition. But no, Papa

simply stared at his watch and said nothing. When I got up the

courage to ask him what he was doing, he answered, “I’m just counting

the minutes that I have left to live.”

Multiple myeloma is a cancer of the bone marrow. The “multiple”

refers to the multiple areas of bone marrow that are affected. The

impact on the patient is also “multiple.” The most drastic is bone

damage. Areas of severe damage -- like my dad’s neck and lower spine

-- cause lesions, fracture or even collapse of vertebrae. The cancer

also blocks cells that normally repair damaged bone. The second is

pernicious anemia. (During my father’s care, he received more than 40

pints of blood -- all free thanks to my American Red Cross blood

account.)

The doctor in charge of my father’s treatment decided first to

shrink the lower spinal tumor with radiation. The tumor responded to

the point where Papa could walk -- or rather, shuffle -- with the

help of a cane. I had read something about offering marijuana to

alleviate pain even way back then, and asked the doctor if he would

prescribe this for my father. His shocked reply was: “Absolutely not.

Marijuana is addictive!” What? Wake up and smell the coffee, dude!

Multiple myeloma is incurable. The average lifespan for multiple

myeloma victims (in 2005) is three years after initial diagnosis. In

1979, the odds were even worse. This same doctor knew that my father

was close to death, so why the reticence to prescribe marijuana?

Several weeks later, Papa was handed off, so to speak, to a young

oncologist fresh out of medical school. This fellow started my dad on

chemotherapy. Papa became weaker. He threw up almost every 30 minutes

for days on end. He was also in constant, excruciating pain. Standard

drugs could not touch his pain. No food, no drink, no sleep. The

tumors temporarily subsided and Papa went home. At age 63, my father

had become a shell of his former self. He was a beaten man.

My father “lived” in a hospital for about 80% of that last year of

his life. Just a few days before my father died, the young oncologist

asked that my mother and I meet with him in his offices after hours,

when all his appointments had gone home. The three of us sat in his

waiting room and talked. The doctor, a very courageous and

compassionate man, had to tell us that my father was just days away

from death. “Mr. Nedeff’s kidneys are failing rapidly. We could have

him driven (some 30 miles) to Salinas for kidney dialysis. He cannot

tolerate any more chemotherapy. He is in such great pain with the

tumors all over his body, I suggest that we just let him slip into a

coma and let him go.” My mother opted to consult two new oncologists,

who prescribed new chemo. Two days later, my father drowned in his

own body fluids -- massive infection and pneumonia.

What a wonderful surprise to see the young oncologist at my

father’s memorial service about a week later. He literally held me up

as I cried in his arms. His consoling words ring in my ears today:

“Your father was in great pain. He finally got relief.”

Sad, sad, sad, that our City Council has voted to deny marijuana

as medical relief to others in pain.

* FLO MARTIN is a Costa Mesa resident and faculty member at Cal

State Fullerton.