DISHONORABLE CONDUCT

No Medals In This Battle To Help Patients

Phillip Leveque, Ph.D. and doctor of osteopathy, was a scout in the U.S.
Army during World War II, a combat infantryman sent into enemy hands to
retrieve vital information, a true war hero. His job was "considered the
most dangerous job in the Army."

"On my best day," the 79 year old said, "I captured 26 German officers.
Luckily they surrendered or else I wouldn't be here today."

The war Leveque is fighting today is not on foreign soil or against Nazi
soldiers, but rather against the Oregon BME (Board of Medical Examiners)
and the OMMP (Oregon Medical Marijuana Program). The doctor has just
wrapped up a 90-day suspension that began May 1 for "dishonorable conduct."
He was also made to pay a $5,000 fine.

According to both the actual medical marijuana law, and the Oregon Medical
Association Guidelines (adopted in April 1999 in response to the law passed
November 1998), "physicians who comply [with the law] cannot be prosecuted
criminally by state authorities," yet Leveque has been suspended and fined.

"They're pathetic ... They're not following their own law," Leveque says
about the Oregon BME.

"There's absolutely no appeal," he says, explaining that an appeal would
mean his medical license would be suspended until the appeal reaches a
court hearing, which could take up to a year, with his patients waiting all
the while. Plus, the Oregon BME has its own judge, unlike a typical
courtroom case in which an impartial judge is selected.

"Do you think their judge is going to be fair to a medical doctor?" Leveque
asked. He decided to take the fine and suspension without appeal, to ensure
that on Aug. 1 he can return to his practice and help his many patients.

In an average week, Leveque sees about 80 patients, working four days a
week, with 16-20 patients a day. Leveque opened his own private practice in
1979.

"There was nothing in [the office] but the walls and floor covering," he
said. "I had to put in all the cabinets. I had to put in all the plumbing,
all that stuff."

"I started with zero patients. Within one year I was seeing 40 a day... I
ended up being the largest practice in South Clackamas County."

Patient rights are Leveque's main concern, just as his nation and battalion
were during World War II. A hero's focus is not on himself.

"That poor Michael Golden," Leveque says of a patient who went public about
medical marijuana patients' rights after having his home raided by the police.

"They broke down his door with a battering ram and threw [the door] in his
front yard. He's disabled. He's been in bike accidents and has head injuries."

A doctor in Oregon cannot prescribe marijuana under the law, but can simply
sign an application stating that the patient has one of the qualifying
conditions and has expressed that the condition is improved by
self-medicating with cannabis.

Leveque has a Ph.D. in pharmacology and toxicology and was a medical school
professor for 30 years, making him more than familiar with pharmaceuticals
and prescriptions.

"If the government says there's no medical value in marijuana, then why is
it OK for a prescription item," he says, referring to Marinol, the
pharmaceutical form of cannabis that is pure, synthetic THC, the active
ingredient in marijuana.

"The federal government grows medical marijuana in Mississippi. I think
they have 10-15 [patients]... I think it's hemp [a form of cannabis lacking
THC]. They chop it up like tobacco -- the patients only get 150 cigarettes
a month."

While still on suspension, Leveque worked for his patients by responding to
the OMMP's inquiries.

"The last application I signed was on the 30th of April. They're still
mailing me forms [that say] is this your patient? and they haven't caught
up yet."

Leveque is openly opinionated about the $150 application fee required for
all patients wishing to register as a medical marijuana patient. Noting the
low cost of an Oregon drivers license, which is "What, like 10 bucks?" he
then asked, "Why the hell does a disabled person have to pay $150 for the
privilege to take medicine?"

Almost 4,000 medical marijuana cards are now in the hands of Oregonians
(generating $600,000 in revenue for the state) and Leveque helped an
estimated 2,000 of them. Many say he is a hero of the chronically ill and
in pain.

In a written statement to his patients about his suspension, Leveque stated
his dedication to his patients:

"The only thing I'm afraid of is German artillery and when someone
threatens me, I defend myself and also my patients."