After apologizing for my voice, I finally told the woman at the local marijuana dispensary who I was and what I needed
My mother had dire rheumatoid arthritis. Whenever she needed anything from the store, I would take her, or I did the shopping. I loved doing things for my mother because I realized she needed the help. This past week, I had been laid up with the flu. My head totally throbbed with a painful headache. Breathing honestly felt like someone had poured molten steel into my lungs. I was on some heavy meds that made me sleep more than be awake. When my mother called and asked if I could get her medication, I could hardly even talk. She was concerned over my well-being and annoyed that I hadn’t called to tell her I was entirely sick. I croaked out that I would get it for her and asked where it had to be picked up from. She told me it was her medical marijuana at the cannabis shop. I was never so cheerful to hear that she wanted marijuana. I knew that the local marijuana dispensary would deliver to her. They had once told us that we only needed to call. I was about to take them up on that particular offer. I told her to call the marijuana dispensary and give them her information. She hesitated, and I relented, telling her I would make the call myself. After apologizing for my voice, I finally told the woman at the local marijuana dispensary who I was and what I needed. I gave them Mom’s address and her medical ID number. They promised to get the marijuana to her before the end of the day. They weren’t even going to charge her a delivery fee either.