Forays into Medical Marijuana

So, I just got back from a walk through the neighborhood, day two of a renewed effort to get more exercise. So far, so good. Despite the dirty sidewalk, I appreciated the street art above, just around the corner from where I live. Yesterday, I finally got around to visiting a medical marijuana pharmacy. After doing a bunch of research, I found a place in West Hollywood that sells the stuff that people with epilepsy are reporting is helping them control their or their children's seizures. The place was on the same block as several stores that had interesting displays of sleazy -- what should I call it? -- costumery -- masks with spikes on them, leather jock straps, whips, and what I guess is the paraphernalia for visits to pleasure dungeons. It's West Hollywood, baby. Anyway, I walked past the large security guard at the entrance and into the weed store, which reminded me a bit of a European pharmacy -- all clean surfaces and white-lab-coated professionals. There were glass apothecary jars filled with bits of this and that and the place smelled divine. It wasn't the smell of pot that I remember from college days -- that sickly perfume that permeated the air -- it was more clean and fresh and pleasant, for lack of a better word. I spoke at length to two people there and got further instructions which include a visit to a Dr. Bullwinkle (all names changed) who will write me a prescription so that I can return to the pharmacy and consult with them on what dosage and component will help the Soph. I'll keep you posted.