Hello, reader. Today’s post is sponsored by… well, my own mistake. A little too much medical marijuana, a lot too little wisdom, and suddenly I was starring in a story equal parts terrifying and ridiculous. Lucky for you, my ignorance is your shortcut so you can laugh, learn, and avoid my fate entirely.

Let me take you back to September 2019, five months into my medical marijuana journey. At this point, I had been off work for a year and just deemed totally disabled. My chances of “returning to normal life” were slim to none. So, since I had nothing but time, I kept myself busy.

Cooking became my new obsession. Not just casseroles or crock pot meals, I dove headfirst into cannabis edibles. I was on a mission to get off the pills that had drained the life out of me and to find natural relief for pain, nerve damage, severe muscle spasms, and PTSD.

I had already mastered cannabis infused butter, brownies, cookies, teas, tinctures, and even topicals. But that week I decided to make gummies. And not just a few gummies, months worth of gummies was the plan.

I had prepared tinctures over the past month made from my favorite flower strains. One indica, one sativa, one hybrid each way. My mad scientist brain had it all calculated. Each gummy would be 10mg, cute little stars and smiley faces that would freeze and potentially last me up to a year.

The idea? Perfect. The execution… not so much.

The Gummy Grind

I spent the whole day in mad-scientist mode, cranking out test batches. Strawberry, grape, orange, blueberry, lemon, and cherry each in its own tray. Bears, stars, rings the works. I nibbled here, adjusted there, tinkered like a perfectionist until nearly 11 p.m. when it hit me: uh oh… I am very high.

No problem, I thought. Quick shower, straight to bed. Easy.

Wrong.

Enter: The Green Out

I got in the shower and stayed there for over an hour. Not washing. Not shampooing. Just staring at the wall like I was in some kind of dreamy indie film montage. The water would cool, I’d briefly join reality, crank up the heat then drift into another movie-daydream, then back to reality, then gone again.

Finally, the hot water ran out, so I crawled out, giggling to myself because, “Welp, I think I messed up.”

I sat at the foot of the bed in a towel, mesmerized by some late-night infomercial on TV, feeling my heart thumping harder and harder. That’s when paranoia moved in. Shadows from the trees outside looked like they were closing in. My thoughts started racing. My body started vibrating.

And then I heard it, a familiar voice: Matthew McConaughey, talking about a Lincoln. To most it was just a commercial. To me, in that instant, it was an activation. Chaos followed.

In my THC-induced stupor and newly minted obsession with espionage movies, I was convinced that his voice had just erased life as I knew it. I became absolutely convinced Matthew McConaughey had activated my sleeper-agent status and I was not going down without a fight.

My Husband, Laughs at My Funeral Plans

My husband, blissfully unaware of the existential crisis unfolding at the foot of the bed, was still sleeping like a hibernating bear. By now, it was around 3:00 a.m. Meanwhile, my eight-week-old puppy was losing his tiny mind crying and licking my face, like, “Mom, are you actually okay?” I swear I could hear his thoughts, as if he’d been secretly trained as a furry little therapist. He barked and whined so relentlessly that even my husband in hibernation mode couldn’t ignore him, and suddenly everyone was awake.

My husband says, ‘Hun, are you okay? Are you shaking?’

Silence. I couldn’t speak.

He jumps out of bed and grabs me. ‘Are you okay?’

Apparently, the vibrating I’d been feeling inside wasn’t just in my head, it was real. I finally whispered, “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

I couldn’t speak fast enough to take in the sheer panic on his face as he scrambled. “I’ll call 911! What happened? Why didn’t you wake me?”

I tried to explain the chain of events leading up to this moment, the gummies, the shower, the McConaughey activation. He calmly set his phone down and started laughing.

He was in tears, holding his belly, saying, ‘Honey, you’re high! It’s just weed and you did way too much!’

“Excuse me, sir, this is not funny. This is my obituary!” I snapped, glaring daggers while he doubled over, laughing like I’d just told the world’s worst joke. Meanwhile, I threatened, in no uncertain terms, to haunt him for the rest of his natural life… and possibly beyond.

Eventually, when he saw real tears, he got serious. He held me, helped me remember my granny’s prayer that I used to repeat over and over whenever I was scared (thank you, Granny), and finally, I drifted off to sleep.

The Aftermath

I woke up the next afternoon around three-thirty. Stumbled out, still high, to find my kids and puppy piled in the living room with pizza and blankets. My daughter giggled and said “rough night?” She slid a note across the coffee table written by my husband before work:

Morning babies, Mom had a rough night. Let her sleep. Take care of Bastian. Do not wake her up. If you need something call me or your granny. Here’s $30, order pizza. Love, Dad

Bless him.

The Lesson: Respect the Plant

That night is forever known in my house as “The Sleeper Agent Activation.” I laugh about it now, but in the moment, I was convinced I was dying. After I finally came to my senses and did some research on what had just happened, I learned a very valuable lesson:

Respect the plant. It’s powerful, it’s medicine, and it demands responsibility.
Do your research. Even if you think you’ve got the math right—check it again. Dosing mistakes can turn a fun night into a bad story.
Know your limits. Just because you can whip up a tray of gummies doesn’t mean you need to sample the entire lineup. Pace yourself.
CBD is your lifeline. Keep it close. A few drops can help soften the edges of too much THC and bring you back to center when things feel overwhelming.

Medical marijuana has changed my life. It gave me my spark back when I thought “normal” living was impossible. But I’ll never forget the night I let Matthew McConaughey, a Lincoln commercial, and a tray of gummies almost take me out.

Stay lifted, stay safe, and for the love and respect of all things green keep that CBD close.

⚠️Important Disclaimer⚠️

This story is based on my personal experience with medical marijuana. Everyone reacts differently to cannabis, and while my “green out” was just too much THC, the symptoms I described - racing heart, shortness of breath, tremors, and paranoia can also be signs of a serious medical emergency, including a heart attack.

If you ever experience these symptoms, do not assume it’s just the cannabis. Call 911 immediately or seek emergency medical help.

Kentucky Cannabis Docs and I are not responsible for any medical emergencies that may occur if you choose not to seek professional medical attention. This blog is meant for education, harm reduction, and a little laughter, it is not medical advice. Always consult with your healthcare provider and use cannabis responsibly.

The “Green Out” (Why CBD Is Your Best Friend)