How I was forced to be a criminal – just by trying to save my dying daughter’s life

Every day, hundreds of sick or addicted people are legally given heroin, morphine and opiates. Yet when this hardworking, law-abiding father wanted to give his stricken child cannabis oil, he found that the only way to do so was to risk prison and ruin. N

STANDING in my friend’s kitchen with the windows flung wide open, I stared at the chrome-coloured rice cooker, willing it to work faster. The noxious fumes from the liquid bubbling inside were so strong that I feared a passing neighbour might guess what we were up to and report us to the guards.

My heart was thumping and there was a thin film of sweat on my brow as I tried to keep my rising sense of panic under control. As a decent law-abiding, tax-paying citizen I had never touched drugs in my life, yet at any time, gardai could come crashing through the front door and arrest me for possession.

My friend, whose kitchen now resembled an episode of Breaking Bad, was a lot calmer. He has occasionally dabbled in recreational drugs, smoked the odd joint, but this was the first time he’d tried making cannabis oil.

He re-read the instructions we’d found on a website on his smart phone. ‘Not long now,’ he said. ‘A few more minutes and all the alcohol should be evaporated and we’ll be good to go.’

The smell of cannabis was so pungent that I was beginning to feel a little light-headed. Not for the first time that week, I wondered how it had come to this? Why had I, a hardworking father-of-four, been forced into a criminal activity that could easily land me in jail?

And what kind of society would threaten me with trial, fines and even prison... simply for trying to help my own dying child?

My daughter Sarah was five years old when were told there was nothing more the doctors could do to treat the tumour that was in the middle of her brain. They said we should bring her home, that they would monitor her as best they could but that we should prepare ourselves because she was going to pass away.

Sarah was our third daughter, her two older sisters are now 15 and 12 and she has a younger brother who is about to turn four. We were a very normal family. I’ve been with Sarah’s mother since we were teenagers, and our first child was born when we were 18. It was young to start a family, but we were happy. We led very ordinary lives.

I couldn’t accept the diagnosis, I’m not sure any parent could. So I did some research.

A friend told me about a documentary he’d seen on YouTube, Charlotte’s Web, about a family in America with a very sick child who had found that using cannabis oil had hugely helped her condition.

I read a bit more about it and came across this guy called Rick Simpson. He has his own website, all about the benefits of cannabis oil. We emailed him and told him about Sarah. He got back to us within 12 hours. His email directed us to the pages on his site that told you what you’d need and the instructions on how to make your own oil.

I didn’t have to think twice. For me it seemed there could be light, however little, at the end of the tunnel. It felt like I had no other option, otherwise we had no hope to cling to.

And the only thing that had got me though the previous five years had been hope. We had looked into bringing her to America but it was too much, the protocol in the hospitals there was too strong.

The treatment would have been too rough, she’d already been through so much at this stage.

For the last four years we had been in Our Lady’s Children’s Hospital in Crumlin every few weeks for her chemotherapy, which was what she needed to try and keep the tumour at bay.

To watch any child go through something like that is just horrendous. She would lie in the bed, unable to move, getting sick over and over again. We’d drive home after-‘ wards with all four windows open and someone sitting beside her with a sick bag. It was just horrible. And that was practically her whole life.

Out of the five years of Sarah’s life we only got one bit of good news. When she was about three years old they told us the chemotherapy had worked. We couldn’t believe it, the whole family celebrated. But it didn’t last too long and at the next scan we were told it was growing again.

This was when my friend told me to watch the documentary about the family in America who used cannabis oil. Their child’s life turned around and I knew I had to try it. I didn’t tell the doctors, just a few friends.

My partner knew what I was planning and she didn’t try to stop me. But she didn’t get involved.

We sent the email to Rick Simpson and I started gathering what we needed. You need a lot of cannabis so I asked a friend who I knew had some connections if he’d make some inquires for me.

It didn’t take too long. A night or two later I got a call to tell me where to pick it up, down a small quiet road out near Tallaght. I didn’t have to pay for it — once these guys heard what it was for they insisted on giving it to us for free.

It all happened very quickly and there was very little said at the meeting point. I was handed a supermarket shopping bag full of buds, which I shoved down my trousers before getting back into my car.

I can’t explain how nervous I was, it was a huge amount of grass and it has a very strong, distinctive smell. I drove with all the windows down, praying that I didn’t come across any guards. I remember thinking that if they did try to stop me I’d probably have to try and make a run for it.

They was no way they would have believed me if I had told them what it was for. I drove to a field near my home and hid the bag deep in a bush. I kept it there until I had gathered everything else I needed.

It takes a relatively small amount of equipment to make cannabis oil. A muslin cloth to filter it, a rice cooker and 100% pure alcohol, which was

It felt like I had no other option, no other hope to cling to

To watch any child go through this is absolutely horrendous

the hardest thing of all to get. I bought a big drum of it, in one of those shops that sells hash pipes, a head shop.

There was two of us who made it, I wouldn’t always be the sharpest in the tool box, so I gathered all the stuff and my friend was there to help me make it. He was the brains of the operation.

You put the buds on to the cloth, over a bowl and keep pouring the alcohol over it, again and again. It takes the oil out of the grass and filters through the cloth into the bowl. You then put that liquid into the rice cooker and the alcohol evaporates.

You’re left with the cannabis oil, which looks a little like Bovril. We got a very small amount considering the amount of grass we used.

I tried it first to make sure everything was all right with it, the last thing I wanted was to make Sarah any worse than she was. There were no problems — after taking it, all I wanted to do was go home and chill out.

Of course I was hoping it would cure her, keep the tumour at bay. That was my great hope. And it was worth taking the risk, doing something that was illegal. I figured if I was caught I’d just say to the judge: ‘Listen, Your Honour, you’d have done the exact same thing if you were in my shoes.’

I put a tiny amount, the size of a small grain of rice, in a little bit of mashed potato and fed it to Sarah and I definitely saw a difference. She wasn’t as agitated, you could see she was more at ease and it was making her sleep a lot more. I gave it to her once or twice a day.

Her life was extended, I totally believe that. She passed away in the spring of 2015, but I 100% believe we got a few months extra with her thanks to the cannabis oil.

Of course I’ve been following the story of Vera Twomey and her daughter Ava. I watched videos of Ava having the fits and then taking the oil and the effect it has on her. What more does the Government need to see? It’s a no-brainer.

I was watching on the news as Vera was walking miles upon miles in all sorts of weather, from Cork to Dublin, having to get pushed in a wheelchair halfway through because she was injured. No parent should have to do that to get any sort of drug for their child.

The Government could legalise cannabis oil tomorrow. There’s all sorts of other drugs that are used for medicinal reasons, in controlled circumstances. Even heroin, and that’s in a whole other league from cannabis.

I can’t believe I was forced to commit a criminal act to try and help my daughter. I would shout about what I’ve done from the rooftops if I could but my family are terrified I’ll get into trouble. So that’s why I can’t even put my name to this article. They’ve been through so much already, I can’t distress them any more.

Minister for Health Simon Harris, he needs to get a move on. He doesn’t have kids, he doesn’t know what Vera Twomey is going through or what I went through. Give this woman what she wants to help her child, it’s as simple as that.

It’s coming up to second anniversary of Sarah’s death and we’re doing OK, we all have our good and bad days. We still have all her paintings from playschool, her toys, her clothes, they’re all still in our home. I’m not sure when we’ll be able to put those away.

I get some comfort from knowing that I did my best to help her. I know I took the law into my own hands but I don’t think I’m the only parent who would do that.

The Government has to legalise this drug and give parents and sick children a bit of respite or hope.

I know in those last few months Sarah had a better quality of life because of the cannabis oil, it helped to ease her pain and I’m certain we got a bit longer with her. For that, I’ll always be grateful.

I tried it first to make sure everything was alright with it