I literally almost died from marijuana, and I am not joking
Colorado has its official first marijuana-related death: a young college student fell from a balcony and the coroner decided having THC in his system must have meant it was an after-school special where kids on “the pot” think they can fly. But I literally, actually almost died from marijuana. And now I will tell you my story.
I live in California. I am a legal user of marijuana (for cramps, basically, but it is a true thing and also shut up). I received a candy bar with marijuana in it. But my middle-aged eyes were too middle-aged to read the tiny dosage recommendation, if the packaging even had a dosage recommendation, which, who even knows. Anyway, the person from whom I had received it did give me dosage instructions, which were “eat one square, do not eat more than one square” but I could not find where she had written that to me, and also I couldn’t remember, and also I was hungry and the marijuana candy bar, which comprised eight squares, was fucking delicious.
I can believe I ate the whole thing. I can believe anybody would eat the whole thing. Maybe don’t put eight servings in a thing that would usually be one serving?
It was not long before I was whirling and dizzy and would have passed out like I was in college all over again and my couch was a random stranger’s back patio, but I had to vomit, so I made it to the bathroom. There, while puking and puking and puking, the muscles in my throat stopped working. The vomit was literally stuck in the middle of my throat, and wouldn’t travel any further up.
I couldn’t breathe. I was going to choke to death on my own vomit, but instead of dying like a rock star, I was a middle aged woman choking to death on her own vomit WHILE DIZZILY WATCHING TV.
Worse, I was going to be the first person to die of pot, and Fox News would pick it up, and Eric Holder and the DOJ and the DEA would come into Cali and Washington and Colorado guns blazing and make marijuana superduperillegal again and I would RUIN POT FOR EVERYONE.
We almost called an ambulance, but then I managed to get some water and force the vomit back down my throat and not choke to death and not die.
But now I only take my weed like God and Bob Marley intended, like a gentleman, in a pipe.