I crouch in front of him. ‘Listen to me. I don’t plan to go anywhere. I really think I can do it. Other people have. I’ve been on the Internet all morning with Ma doing research. I’ve found out that people are fighting their cancers by all kinds of methods.’
He looks at me and I see how much he wants to believe me, but he is afraid to take the risk. He wants to take the riskless path.
‘Cancer is not a disease I caught from dirty water or someone else. My own body made it. So even if they cut it all out, if I live in exactly the same way I have been doing until now, my body is going to make it again.’
‘I feel so fucking helpless.’
I smile softly. ‘Well, you’re not as helpless as you think.’
He looks at me curiously.
‘This is going to make you laugh, but you know how I said I wanted you to get out of the drug business? Well, looks like I’m going to need you to get back into it. I need you to supply me with marijuana.’
His eyes widen.
‘I need the fresh leaves and buds. And I need loads.’
He frowns. ‘For what?’
‘Apparently the marijuana leaf is a highly medicinal substance. Besides being antioxidant, anti-inflammatory, and neuro-protective, it possesses an anti-cancer nutrient compound known as cannabinoid. Cannabinoid is capable of many wonders, but the most exciting thing about it, is its ability to normalize cell communication within the body. It bridges the gap of neurotransmission in the central nervous system and brain by providing a two-way system of communication, a positive feedback loop. So for people like me, whose systems are compromised by rogue cancer cells, a positive feedback loop can be established.’
‘So you’re going to be high the whole time.’
I shake my head. ‘No, heat is needed to convert the THCA element of raw cannabis into THC, which creates the high. I’m going to juice raw marijuana leaves and buds and eat salads of hemp sprouts.’
‘I really want to believe that raw cannabis is going to cure you, but I have to say, it sounds really far-fetched.’
‘First off, marijuana is only one of the things in a whole host of measures that I will be taking. Cancer cells need an acidic environment to grow. So I’m also going to keep my system alkaline. And I’m going to cut out GMOs and pesticides, go vegetarian, completely cut out stress, etcetera. Here, look at this.’ I open my bag, flicking through the papers to find the article I am looking for and put it into his hand. He looks at it eagerly.
‘Check this out,’ I say. ‘Even though US federal government officials consistently deny that marijuana has any medical benefits, the government actually holds patents since October 2003 for 26 methods using cannabinoids as antioxidants and neuroprotectants.’ I point my finger at the paper and say, ‘See, US Patent 6630507?’
He looks up at me, almost believing, but not quite.
I grab both his hands. ‘You have to believe me. I can do this.’
He sighs heavily.
‘Even people suffering from end-stage cancer have benefited,’ I say.
‘OK, Layla. OK. I’ll get the marijuana for you.’ He stares at me. ‘And I’ll join you in your new diet.’
‘Oh, my darling. You don’t have to do that. You’ll hate it. My diet will be filled with alfalfa grass, sprouts, kefir, and all manner of horrible stuff.’
‘What the hell is kefir?’
‘It’s an organism that you put in milk to sour it and turn it into a probiotic food.’
He winces at the thought.
I laugh. ‘Hey. I don’t need you to go on the diet with me. I need you to eat what you want and be happy. When you are happy, I feel happy. And when I’m happy my body is happy.’
‘So. You’re gonna cook separately for me?’
‘Why not? My food is going to be mostly raw anyway.’
‘But you’ll have to smell my food.’
‘So what?’
He nods slowly. ‘No. I wanna do the diet with you.’
‘It won’t make any difference to me.’
‘It’ll make a difference to me. We eat the same or I don’t eat at all.’
‘OK.’ And I have to blink back the tears.
THIRTY-SEVEN
BJ
This morning I watched her tick the box on our calendar that held the sacred information: 60 days left. She turned to me bright and so full of hope. So I went to work. I called her a few times. She seemed fine. But when I return home at 7:00, she is in bed.
I rush to her. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s nothing. Just a twinge.’
‘What kind of a twinge?’
‘It’s normal. Even Lily used to get little twinges and stuff. Don’t worry, the baby is OK,’ she reassures.