Tampa Bay Times: If smoking is bad, how can smoking medical marijuana be good? We asked doctors.

While smoking medical marijuana is touted for its health benefits, smoking still comes with risks. Doctors say they look forward to seeing more research on the subject as more states allow marijuana in smokeable form. [Shutterstock]

By Justine Griffin for the Tampa Bay Times

When Gov. Ron DeSantis and the Legislature made it legal last month to smoke medical marijuana, they did it in the name of better health — the idea that thousands of Floridians would gain relief from a variety of illnesses.

Yet it seemed to run counter to everything modern medicine says about smoking. Isn’t it really bad for you?

Physicians say yes: Smoking anything, be it tobacco or cannabis, comes with some risk. But the answer is more complicated.

The Florida Department of Health — the agency in charge of implementing and enforcing the rules for Florida’s burgeoning medical marijuana industry — still has to come up with guidelines for licensed cannabis companies to follow for selling smokable “flower,” or the actual granules of the plant. As part of those guidelines, patients will have to sign consent forms outlining the risk associated with smoking.

“With tobacco cigarettes, the concern is nicotine, which is not found in marijuana products,” said Dr. Cary Pigman, an emergency room physician with AdventHealth in Sebring and a Republican state representative from Avon Park.

“What I am concerned about with marijuana, as a physician, is the combustion of plant products, which is basically the inhalation of ash,” Pigman said.

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Tampa Bay Times: For those in transition, a little makeup goes a long way

Heather Fontaine, left, applies makeup to Bree Alkire during a class at the LGBTQ Welcome Center in St. Petersburg, hosted by Metro Inclusive Health. Fontaine, a long-time drag performer, offers makeup tips in a class setting every other month for people in the transgender community and others whose gender expression is feminine. [Courtesy of Metro Inclusive Health]

By Justine Griffin for the Tampa Bay Times

ST. PETERSBURG — Bree Alkire walked into the LGBTQ Welcome Center on Central Avenue unsure about what to expect, but hoping for guidance.

Behind her was her partner, Stephen Holland, and her mother, Cathy Naabe. They settled into a small living room space to wait for the start of class, a session for transgender women and others on how to apply makeup.

Alkire pulled out her cellphone and used the camera as a mirror. As others began to fill the room, she squinted at herself behind glasses and a cropped haircut. She fussed with her eyebrows.

“I feel like I need a complete makeover every day to feel good about myself,” said Alkire, 35, leaning into Holland.

“That’s why I make you shave every day, so you look good,” said Holland, 37.

The room felt quiet, a little uneasy.

People filled the chairs and couches quickly, but few chatted with their neighbors. Some wore makeup, others came in worn clothes and chipped nail polish. Some were early into their transition, or still just thinking about it, but had no idea where to start when it came to eyeliner and lipstick.

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Tampa Bay Times: A support group in your phone. Healing for mental illness comes one text at a time.

Johnny Crowder at home in Tampa, where he founded Cope Notes, a service that sends uplifting daily text messages to people manage their mental and emotional health. “People would rather text their friends than talk to them about something difficult,” he said. “Some of the texts are prompts, and while it’s not necessarily a two-way conversation, we want the platform to foster independence. The goal is not to be something people rely on forever.” [MONICA HERNDON   |   Times]

By Justine Griffin for the Tampa Bay Times

Johnny Crowder used to have a negative outlook on the world.

He grew up in what he described as an abusive household. He was diagnosed with a slew of mental illnesses during his formative years, from bipolar disorder to obsessive compulsive disorder. It was easy for him to feel down about himself.

“I realized how I was thinking was contributing to my struggles,” said Crowder, a 26-year-old Tampa native. “But I couldn’t climb out of it.”

So he started filling sticky notes with positive, affirmative messages, and leaving them around his house. On one note, he remembers penciling, “You deserve to spend time with people who care about you.”

It made a difference. For just a few seconds a day, he’d feel better. But eventually the notes became commonplace, and their effect seemed to wear off.

So he decided to try it another way. This time, by sending uplifting text messages to his friends to see how they reacted.

“The first text, I sent to about 32 friends in my contacts, with the same message. Nearly everyone responded,” he said. “They interpreted it differently based on their own lives, but I was surprised to see so many of them replied with ‘How did you know?’ Like I knew they were going through something.”

That’s how Crowder founded Cope Notes.

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Tampa Bay Times: Just 9 percent of female medical students want to be surgeons. What one group is doing about it.

Dr. Sharona Ross, center, a surgeon at AdventHealth, helped launch the Women in Surgery Symposium, which works to address a shortage of women in the field. Ross does her part with an all-female surgery team. From left, the team members are: Courtney Adams, Kim Bulter, Kim Jones, Desiree Rivera, Mary Lashres, Dee Springfield (on the gurney), Mary Liviero, and Rosemary Panavelil. [Photo courtesy of AdventHealth]

By Justine Griffin for the Tampa Bay Times

The idea took hold a decade ago, inside Dr. Sharona Ross’ Tampa living room.

She, along with a handful of other physicians, invited women medical residents and students to talk about their interest in the field of surgery. Ross, a surgeon who specializes in gastrointestinal procedures at AdventHealth’s Digestive Health Institute, was stunned to hear what many of them had to say.

“Everything they’d heard about surgery was negative,” she recalled. “It was aggressive to train for, and there was no time for a family or a husband. The training was very male-oriented at the time. A lot of what they were saying was true, but I was still shocked.”

The experience pushed Ross to launch the Women in Surgery Symposium, a two-day conference for female physicians, medical students and undergraduate students who have an interest in pursuing a surgical career. Over the last decade, the annual gathering has attracted hundreds of medical professionals, making it the largest event anywhere for women in surgery. Some come from as far away as Japan, Australia, Mexico and Canada.

While it was founded in Tampa Bay in 2009, the symposium has traveled to other cities. But last weekend it returned home as the surgeons convened at the Sheraton Sand Key in Clearwater.

National data confirms the gaps that Ross found locally, and they point to a much larger problem. Fifty percent of medical students in 2018 were women, but only 9 percent of female medical students pursued a career in surgery, according to the Association of American Medical Colleges.

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Tampa Bay Times: A stem cell transplant with a twist. ‘They are connected in so many ways’

Nicki Kremer, right, poses with her mother, Madelyn Balitz, at Moffitt Cancer Center in Tampa when Kremer was in her 20s. Kremer was diagnosed with acute lymphoblastic leukemia when she was 24. But today, at age 38, she’s in remission, thanks to a stem cell donation from a stranger who lived in Kentucky. [Photo courtesy of Nicki Kremer]

By Justine Griffin for the Tampa Bay Times

It’s been years since they met, but Nicki Kremer and Richard Davis remember every detail.

Kremer, a college student at the time, and her family were waiting at Tampa International Airport for Davis to arrive from Kentucky. Her hair was still short from the chemotherapy.

They knew Davis went by a nickname, “Bubby.” Then he appeared, wearing cowboy boots and holding his daughter.

“Nicki and Bubby looked at each other for the first time, and they just knew,” recalls Madelyn Balitz, Kremer’s mother. “We stood there in the airport crying. They walked out hand-in-hand. They are connected in so many ways.”

It’s been 14 years since Kremer spent months inside the Moffitt Cancer Center in Tampa, unsure if she’d ever find a bone marrow donor who could save her life.

Now 38, she’s in remission, thanks to the stranger from Kentucky who donated stem cells for a transplant. And in just a few months “Bubby” will give her something else.

He’ll officiate at her wedding.

Read more here.