STILL HIDING IN THE SHADOWS

When Oregonians passed the Medical Marijuana Act, many thought the new law
would give many suffering through infirmities such as cancer, HIV or AIDS,
glaucoma and severe arthritis a recourse for their pain.

On her secluded sunny deck overlooking a creek in Polk County, Cathy Bush
nurses three bright green seedlings.

They're only a few inches tall and have only a few of the leaves easily
recognizable as cannabis sativa.

But these marijuana starts may represent Bush's only hope for a happy future.

Faced with an ambiguous state law and a husband in agonizing pain, the
34-year-old business manager is trying to give him comfort without breaking
the law.

That's exceedingly hard.

"People are scared to talk about growing marijuana because there's always
somebody who wants to make trouble," Bush said. A mother of three young
boys, she worries other parents will get scared and perhaps forbid their
children to play with hers if the Bushes become known as marijuana growers.

She fears neighbors will shy away. She's found that even her friends get
uncomfortable when she talks of setting up a marijuana growing room in her
quiet neighborhood near a city park.

Mostly she worries that her husband will continue to suffer from a
debilitating medical condition that causes his chest to bulge red and hot
and his joints to ache.

Doug Bush, 43, faces a cruel dilemma: He has permission to grow, keep and
use marijuana to ease the pain of osteoarthritis in his upper chest, but he
is having trouble obtaining it legally.

Under the 1998 Oregon Medical Marijuana Act, people diagnosed with
debilitating medical conditions and holding a state-issued medical
marijuana card can possess up to four ounces of dried marijuana, plus three
mature and four immature plants.

A supply that is legal under the new law would be enough to ease his pain,
said Doug Bush.

A couple of marijuana cigarettes each day calms him enough to slow his
movements and his breathing. Tension alone can cause swollen bumps to push
out of the top of his tattered T-shirt, he said as he tenderly touched his
reddened chest.

But growing marijuana takes time, room — and about $1,000 in upfront
expenses. There's soil, fertilizer and pricey lights, plus maybe a security
system to ensure no one steals pot worth about $320 an ounce on the street .

"The only thing this law does is make it so Doug and I can't be
prosecuted," Cathy Bush said. "It doesn't make it so he can get it or even
grow it. It doesn't make it so he can go to a pharmacy and buy it, which
would be great."

Despite Oregon's law, medical marijuana use still exists in a hush-hush
world of black market seeds and underground drug deals.

The Bushes don't fit the stereotypical druggie image.

He's a tall, light-haired man who spends his days laying concrete and
running his own business.

She also works, cans her own fruit, feeds 12 pets, shouts at her youngest
boy to stay out of the street while she jumps out of the way of her eldest
child, firing past on a skateboard. And she tends elaborate gardens around
her craftsman-style, century-old home.

"I hate the smell of marijuana, and I couldn't smoke it because I have
asthma," Cathy Bush said. "But I'll try to grow it."

And she'll continue to encourage her husband to hide in the garage, away
from the kids, and smoke a joint to ease his pain.

Supply issue toughest

Those who pushed for Oregon's medical marijuana law expected to hear about
people like Doug and Cathy Bush.

"We always knew that when we passed the initiative the most difficult issue
for people to overcome was going to be the supply issue," said Geoff
Sugarman, director of Oregonians for Medical Rights which pushed for the
voter-backed law.

Under the law, all it takes is a doctor's note saying a patient is a good
candidate to use marijuana for medical reasons. After getting a doctor's
note, a patient can apply for a card from the Oregon Health Division. The
patient then can grow, smoke and eat marijuana under certain limits and
conditions.

Doug Bush carries his medical marijuana card in his back pocket. He's one
of 525 people in Oregon to apply for and receive a card. An additional 75
or so are in the process.

So now Bush can legally smoke it, but where is he supposed to get it?

It's illegal to buy or sell marijuana. Not only does it take money to grow
marijuana; it takes four to six months to raise a mature plant.

Advocates of the marijuana law said patients often help each other, but
Doug Bush doesn't have any help.

"In the end, this problem is truly only going to be solved when federal law
allows doctors to prescribe and pharmacies to distribute," Sugarman said.

In the meantime, federal law continues to make it illegal to possess
marijuana regardless of medical problems. And not all doctors support its use.

Still, a growing number of doctors in Oregon — about 300 — have written
notes during the past year saying marijuana might work for their patients.

"That's good because that shows we don't have like five pot doctors that
everyone is going to," said Kelly Paige, Oregon Health Division medical
marijuana manager. "We were concerned at first that there wouldn't be a lot
of doctors participating."

Even Kaiser Permanente, the large HMO, has a form letter its doctors use to
authorize marijuana use. But notes are not prescriptions, and a card is not
a voucher for free marijuana.

"The card isn't much," Cathy Bush said. "He's been out of marijuana for
three weeks now."

In the past few months, Doug Bush was able to get marijuana from a
caregiver who had extra. But that supply ran out. He figures he needs about
an ounce a week.

And he can't work at his concrete business when he's in too much pain. One
of the reasons Bush said he developed arthritis in his shoulders and
collarbones is that he has worked with his hands, arms and shoulders for
more than 20 years.

"It's pretty hard physical labor," he said.

Despite his apparent strength, Doug can be found occasionally lying in bed,
crying and praying that the pain will stop.

"I was afraid that if he was in pain for that long, he would commit
suicide," Cathy Bush said. "I know he would."

Morphine legal

Recently, Doug tried morphine — a legal prescription he can have filled at
any pharmacy.

"It tells me to take one every 12 hours," he said, pulling the bottle of
pills from his jeans pocket. "I've taken four already today."

That worries Cathy.

"Don't take any more than four without talking to the doctor," she warned.

"What do you want me to do?" he replied with a mumble.

Bush's doctor isn't likely to keep prescribing morphine if Doug abuses it.
But without a supply of marijuana, morphine is allowing Doug to work.

The family needs his income. Cathy works part time but cannot cover the
family's bills.

"I'm taking morphine because I can't lie in bed crying and lose my house
and everything," he said.

A great pain reliever, morphine does the trick for him, but it also makes
him feel dopey. Doctors say some patients, including those suffering from
cancer and AIDS, don't like the mood swings caused by morphine.

Doug Bush would rather smoke a joint to ease his pain.

"It's kind of sad that you have to switch to a stronger, more dangerous
drug just because it's more available," his wife said.

Not all doctors agree that morphine is more dangerous, but the drug does
have a worse reputation than marijuana, particularly if it's abused.

And if Doug Bush wants more marijuana, he'll will have to buy it on the
black market.

"I take money even though I can't afford it and go buy pot," he said. "It's
the only thing that relaxes me. I go home and I don't want to be a butt to
my wife and kids. It's not their fault, I know it."

Cathy says the end of the day is the worst for the whole family. The
couple's three boys, 4, 6 and 11, have learned to stay away from Dad if he
drags in the door, walking slowly and hunched over in extreme pain.

It is those nights that make Cathy Bush desperate to help. That is why she
has applied for a caregiver card so that she can grow marijuana for her
husband.

"I've been trying to avoid growing here, though because of the kids," she
said. "Just thinking about it has my stomach upset."

She worries someone may try to steal the crop once she has her plants
turning to buds, the flower stalk that contains the bulk of what some say
is marijuana's medical value.

Theft unlikely, DA says

Marion County District Attorney Dale Penn said Bush's fears about marijuana
theft probably are unwarranted.

"We're not talking about the mother lode here," Penn said. "They're only
authorized to have seven plants."

Sugarman said rip-offs haven't been a problem for others who are growing
marijuana as caregivers or patients.

"Nobody has been putting up signs in front of their houses, though, to say,
'I'm growing marijuana,' " he said. "It's all been very private."

But Bush wants to go public because she wants Oregon's law changed.

"We got something. I voted for it. Doug voted for it, but now we need
more," she said. "We have to be able to get it."

For now, she'll nurture her three little marijuana starts.

"My cat ate one of the leaves off today," she laughed. "It didn't seem to
hurt him."

The couple recently began updating their electrical system so they can hook
up grow lamps. They hope to find a caregiver who can grow marijuana for
them so they can avoid having it at home. Doug will continue the morphine.
Then he'll go out and buy marijuana.

"We don't want to break the law," Cathy said, "But what can we do?"

Despite the risk, Doug Bush may be safe from prosecution.

"If someone legitimately has a condition that the law is designed to
protect and they end up buying a small amount of marijuana to initiate (a
growing operation, to get seeds), they're exempt (from criminal law)," Penn
said. "Now, someone who abuses the law, who grows more plants (than is
allowable) or tries to sell it, that's a whole different scenario."

The only good news for the Bushes is that in the end, there may be a cure.
Doug's doctors say he needs an operation, which would entail removal of
part of his collarbone but leave him free of pain.

But first a surgeon must be found, and that's turning out to be difficult.

"I've been sore like this for years," Doug said, obviously beat and in pain
at the end of a 14-hour work day. "I don't know if the surgery will even
help. I don't know if this is just Humpty Dumpty falling apart."