People Are in Pain. How Can We Best Help?

  • By Jeremy Amos

Published: Friday, Jan 09, 2026

I lost my mom last year.

 

She battled terminal cancer for over a year. It was gut-wrenching to watch. She fought so hard, but the cancer just wouldn't quit.

 

During the months of treatment, she was in constant pain. You wouldn't know it if you didn't know her - she hid it from everyone. But each day she went toe-to-toe with the grim reaper and kept him at bay until she simply became too weak to fight and no longer cared to.

 

I remember doing all I could to help her during this time. That's what I do. I try to fix things even if they can't be fixed.

 

Nothing seemed to work for the pain. No medication. No homeopathic concoctions.

 

So I sent her some products that contained hemp-derived THC. She was the last person who would ever normally try something like this. But she was desperate.

 

They helped. At least for a little while.

 

And in those moments of relief—however brief—I understood something I hadn't fully grasped before: we're not just making products. We're offering help to people in pain. Real pain. The kind of pain that makes you willing to try things you never thought you would.

 

That's not abstract. That's not marketing. That's real.

Title

The Scale of Pain

 

According to the CDC, approximately 20% of U.S. adults—about 50 million people—live with chronic pain. That's one in five people walking around in persistent physical discomfort.

 

The numbers for mental and emotional pain are equally staggering. The National Institute of Mental Health reports that nearly 31% of U.S. adults will experience an anxiety disorder at some point in their lives. Depression affects about 21 million adults.

 

We're not talking about edge cases. We're talking about tens of millions of people in pain.

 

Physical pain. Emotional pain. Psychological pain. And they're all looking for ways to manage it.

Title

Why People Turn to Substances

 

Here's what needs to be said clearly: when someone turns to a substance to manage pain, that's not moral failure. That's pain management.

 

Humans have been using substances to manage pain for thousands of years. Alcohol. Opium. Cannabis. Willow bark (which became aspirin). Coca leaves (which became cocaine, then local anesthetics).

 

We seek relief because we're in pain. That's not weakness. That's biology.

 

The problem isn't that people seek relief. The problem is when the relief comes with costs that compound the original problem.

 

Opioids manage pain effectively. They also kill nearly 80,000 Americans per year through overdose. They create dependence. They destroy lives while treating symptoms.

 

Alcohol reduces anxiety temporarily. It also damages the liver, disrupts sleep, creates dependence, and exacerbates the very anxiety it temporarily relieves.

 

Benzodiazepines calm anxiety. They also create rapid tolerance and dependence, making withdrawal potentially life-threatening.

 

The relief is real. But so are the costs.

 

And that's what brings us to cannabinoids. Not as a miracle cure. Not as a replacement for everything else. But as an option that might offer help without the same level of hurt.

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How Cannabinoids Can Help

 

Let me be clear about what I'm not saying:

I'm not saying CBD cures anxiety. I'm not saying THC eliminates chronic pain. I'm not saying cannabinoids are better than all other options for everyone.

 

What I am saying: for some people, with some types of pain, cannabinoids can help. And the help can come without the severe costs associated with some other options.

 

The research, while still developing, shows promise:

Notice what these findings are: modest. Specific. "May help." "Shows potential." "Associated with."

 

This is not "CBD cures everything." This is "for some people, with some conditions, cannabinoids offer measurable support."
 

And for Sarah—for the millions of people looking for options that don't involve opioid dependence or liver damage or benzodiazepine withdrawal—that modest, specific help matters.

Title

4. Make Quality Accessible

 

But here's the critical part: cannabinoids can help without hurting if done right.

 

If done wrong, they don't help at all. Or worse, they give cannabinoids a bad name, making people dismiss something that might actually support them.

 

What does "done right" mean?


1. Quality That's Verified

Cannabinoids need to be pure. Tested. Free of contaminants.

 

A 2017 study published in JAMA found that 69% of CBD products sold online were mislabeled—containing significantly more or less CBD than claimed. Some contained contaminants. Some contained THC despite being labeled THC-free.

 

If someone takes a contaminated or mislabeled product and it doesn't help—or worse, causes problems—they conclude cannabinoids don't work. But the problem wasn't cannabinoids. It was quality.

 

Done right means: comprehensive testing. Accurate labeling. Purity standards maintained.

 

2. Realistic Expectations

The CBD industry has done itself—and consumers—a massive disservice by overpromising.

 

"Cures anxiety!" "Eliminates pain!" "Replaces all medications!"

 

None of that is true. And when people try CBD expecting miracles, even real benefits feel disappointing.

 

Done right means: honest education. Modest claims. Realistic timelines.

 

CBD might reduce your anxiety by 30%. That's meaningful. But it's not eliminating anxiety entirely. If you expect elimination and get reduction, you feel like it failed—even though 30% improvement is significant.

 

3. Appropriate Dosing

Most people start with doses that are too low to have any effect, get discouraged, and quit.

 

Research suggests effective doses for differing conditions vary. Some people see results with 5mg, while others with 400mg - the key is figuring out what works best for you.

 

Taking 5mg once and expecting results is like taking one sip of water and wondering why you're still thirsty.

 

Done right means: adequate dosing. Consistency. Time to work.

 

4. Professional Guidance When Needed

Cannabinoids interact with some medications. They're not appropriate for everyone. Some conditions require pharmaceutical intervention, not plant-based support.

 

Done right means: knowing when cannabinoids are appropriate and when they're not. Being honest when someone needs more than what cannabinoids can offer.

Title

The Responsibility We Carry

 

If you're making cannabinoid products, you're making products for people in pain.

 

That's not abstract. That's my mom. That's the 50 million people with chronic pain. That's the millions with anxiety who can't sleep. That's the people who tried opioids and nearly lost everything.

 

They're trusting you to help them without hurting them. 

 

That trust comes with responsibility:

  • The responsibility to maintain quality. No corners cut. No batches shipped that shouldn't be. No contaminants tolerated.
  • The responsibility to educate honestly. No miracle claims. No overpromising. Realistic expectations even when hype would sell better.
  • The responsibility to test thoroughly. Every batch. Full panel. Verified results.
  • The responsibility to acknowledge limits. When cannabinoids aren't the answer. When someone needs more help than you can provide.
  • The responsibility to price fairly. Making help inaccessible through excessive pricing isn't helping.

This isn't optional. This isn't "nice to have." If you're in this industry, this is the job.

 

You're not selling commodities. You're offering help to people in pain. Act accordingly.

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What This Looks Like in Practice

 

When my mom needed help, she was looking for relief from unbearable pain. Not a cure—she knew there wasn't one. Just something that would give her moments where the pain wasn't all-consuming.

 

If someone comes to you in that position—or to a brand using your ingredients—seeking help for chronic pain, anxiety, or any other condition, here's what "done right" looks like:

  • You don't promise to cure them. You explain what research shows: cannabinoids may help reduce pain intensity and anxiety symptoms for some people. Effects are typically modest but meaningful.
  • You don't sell them underdosed product. You recommend appropriate starting doses based on research. You explain it takes consistency and time.
  • You don't sell them contaminated product. Every batch is tested. Results are available. They can verify what they're getting.
  • You tell them what cannabinoids can't do. If their condition is severe and requires medical intervention, cannabinoids may complement treatment but aren't a replacement. That's okay. Be honest about limits.
  • You're honest about uncertainty. We're still learning. Research is ongoing. What works for some doesn't work for all. Individual response varies.
  • That's help without hurt. That's doing it right.

And if they find relief—even modest, temporary relief—without the costs of opioid dependence or severe side effects, you've genuinely helped.

 

My mom got some relief. Not a cure. Not a miracle. But moments where the pain was manageable. Where she could rest. Where she could be present with us.

 

That mattered. Those moments mattered.

Title

This Isn't About Profit Over People

 

Here's the thing that needs to be said:

You can build a profitable business helping people. You don't have to choose between financial success and doing the right thing.

 

But you do have to choose between short-term profit maximization and long-term trust building.

 

Cutting quality saves money short-term. Costs trust long-term.

 

Overpromising increases conversions short-term. Destroys credibility long-term.

 

Under-dosing products increases margins short-term. Ensures customers don't see results long-term.

 

If you're optimizing for quarterly revenue, you'll make different decisions than if you're optimizing for helping people in pain.

 

And here's what I believe: the companies that optimize for helping people, that maintain quality even when it's expensive, that educate honestly even when hype would sell better, that test thoroughly even when it's tedious—those companies will still be here in ten years.

 

The ones maximizing short-term profit at the expense of quality and honesty? They won't.

 

Because people in pain deserve better. And eventually, they figure out who's actually helping and who's just taking their money.

Title

The Question We Should All Be Asking

 

So we come back to the question: How can we best help people in pain?

 

Not "how can we maximize revenue?" Not "how can we dominate market share?" Not "how can we capitalize on the CBD trend?"

 

How can we best help people?

 

The answer, I think, is this:

  • Make products that actually work. Quality that's verified. Dosing that's adequate. Formulations that are thoughtful.
  • Educate honestly. Realistic expectations. Acknowledge what we know and what we don't. Cite research, not opinions.
  • Test thoroughly. Every batch. Full panel. No exceptions.
  • Price fairly. Help that's unaffordable isn't help.
  • Know your limits. When cannabinoids aren't enough. When someone needs different help.
  • Remember why you're here. You're serving people in pain. That's sacred work. Treat it that way.
Title

Why This Work Matters

 

My mom is gone now. The cannabinoids didn't save her—nothing could. Cancer took her anyway.

 

But they gave her some relief. Some moments of peace. Some time where the pain wasn't overwhelming and she could be with us, present, for a little while longer.

 

Those moments mattered.

 

And there are millions of people right now—people with chronic pain, with anxiety, with conditions that make every day difficult—who are looking for help.

 

They're going to try something. Opioids. Alcohol. Benzodiazepines. Or cannabinoids.

 

If they try cannabinoids, what will their experience be?

 

Will they get a contaminated product that makes them sick? An underdosed product that does nothing? An overhyped product that promises miracles and delivers disappointment?

 

Or will they get a quality product, with honest education, appropriate dosing, and realistic expectations—something that offers modest but meaningful help without severe costs?

 

That depends on us. On whether we're optimizing for profit or for helping people. On whether we're willing to do this right even when it's harder and more expensive.

 

People in pain deserve help. They deserve products that work. They deserve honesty about what cannabinoids can and can't do.

 

The question isn't whether cannabinoids can help. Research suggests they can, for some people, with some conditions.

The question is: Are we helping them the right way?

 

That's the question that should guide every decision we make. Every batch we accept or reject. Every claim we make or don't make. Every test we run. Every price we set.

 

How can we best help people?

 

For my mom, cannabinoids provided some relief in her final months. That's what they could do. That's what they did. That was enough to matter.

 

And for the millions of people in pain right now, that possibility—of real help, honestly offered, without false promises—that's what we owe them.

Everything else is secondary.

Title

If you're making cannabinoid products, you're serving people in pain. That's not marketing language. That's reality. And it comes with responsibility—to maintain quality, educate honestly, test thoroughly, and remember why this work matters. Help without hurt. That's the standard.