INJURED VETS WANT BATTLE OVER POT TO END

Consider the case of Kevin Grimsinger.

The 42-year-old former special-forces medic had served in Kosovo and
Desert Storm before stepping on a land mine in Kandahar, Afghanistan,
in 2001. He lost parts of both legs, broke his back in 13 places,
shattered a shoulder and ribs and suffered injuries to several internal organs.

But by far, his toughest wounds are to his brain -- textbook
post-traumatic stress disorder.

That means flashbacks. It means struggling to sleep and thinking
about suicide more often than he cares to admit. His nightmares are
constant, he says. "They're bloody, they're noisy and they're gory."

After two years in hospitals, Grimsinger was released addicted "to
every pain medication known to man," he tells me. It wasn't until
turning to therapeutic cannabis, along with other prescriptions, that
he says he has been able to function. Medical marijuana doesn't take
away his trauma. But it gives him a break long enough to sleep.

Grimsinger has served on Denver's Commission for People with
Disabilities and as a quartermaster at his local Veterans of Foreign
Wars post. He works as a veterans advocate at Budding Health, a
Denver dispensary, where he leads a support group of nearly 200
former service members.

Most have registered as chronic-pain patients. But just as
Grimsinger's stumps are easier to spot than his brain injuries, what
ails their minds is far more debilitating.

PTSD isn't a condition that qualifies for medical-marijuana use in
Colorado. Federally, the Veterans Affairs doesn't prescribe the drug
and, by policy, threatens to cut off care and benefits to vets who
test positive for using it.

"Veterans feel incredibly disrespected on this issue, especially as
it relates to PTSD," says Michael Krawitz, executive director of
Veterans for Medical Marijuana Access.

More than 18 percent of vets returning from Afghanistan and Iraq are
traumatized.

"I'd much rather these guys come home and smoke a joint than take
pills or drink or beat up their wives," Grimsinger says. "We've seen
our battle. We've done our fighting. Don't make us continue to fight:
Fight for sleep. Fight for appetite. Fight to get out of bed in the mornings."

He petitioned state Department of Public Health on Friday to add PTSD
as a condition for legal medical-marijuana use. A rally is planned
outside the health department at 11 a.m. Wednesday.

Despite assertions by health officials to the contrary, his petition
cites studies showing cannabis as a more effective treatment for
trauma than most pharmaceuticals and with fewer side effects. It also
cites a policy in Canada authorizing that government to pay for
medical marijuana for veterans. California allows doctors the freedom
to decide which conditions qualify.

In New Mexico, the only state citing PTSD as a qualifying condition,
more users are registered for trauma than for pain. Health officials
here fear a similar floodgate effect, not just among veterans but all
Coloradans.

"They've been fighting us on this forever," says Martin Chilcutt, a
former intelligence officer and chronic PTSD patient who led the
campaign to legalize marijuana here in 2000.

Ten years after Coloradans passed Amendment 20, it is easier to get a
marijuana card for carpal tunnel syndrome than for literally being
shell-shocked. Call me a flaming liberal or a bleeding heart, but as
public policies go, that is messed up.

"Yes, it is, ma'am," Grimsinger says. "Yes, it certainly is."