The first time I talked to Josh Berner (two years ago this month) he gave me his favorite recipe for eggnog. First, you pour some of the store-bought variety into a blender. Then add in a banana, a little honey and two heaping tablespoons of marijuana.

Mix to a froth. Add nutmeg.

"That’s still one of my favorites," Josh told me Monday. "Wish I could whip some up right now."

But he can’t.

"The last time I had some pot was a week or 10 days ago," he said. "I’m having a little trouble finding some right now. But I will, hopefully. Otherwise, I won’t be able to eat at all. I’ll be finished. I won’t let that happen. I won’t let the bastards win—pardon my French."

No need.

I figure a guy in his 50s can speak any language he wants when he has throat cancer and is experiencing constant nausea from the disease and the radiation treatments. Particularly when he lives in a state that already has passed a referendum permitting the medical use of marijuana—twice.

"Without an implementation plan to go along with the proposition, the situation of people like me hasn’t changed a bit since we passed the first proposition back in ‘96," Josh said. "So, that’s my job now. To get it implemented."

Needs a prescription

Not only that, but there’s no pharmacy where a guy like Josh can go.

Politically, what happened in Arizona was a major disaster for the prohibitionists. That is great, but we must now address the very real needs of very real people.

We cannot sit around and wait for the sick and dying to liberate us from our fears.)

"I tell you where that leaves me," Josh said. "Picture me walking through the desert on a local Indian reservation, handing money through barbed wire fence and having a bag of pot passed back to me. Why? Because there’s an 80-year-old World War II veteran who called me to help him, because marijuana is the only thing that keeps him from getting sick from chemotherapy. That’s not right. I can’t let that happen."

That’s why Josh is now working with activists in other states that have passed laws similar to Arizona’s Proposition 300. He wants to create a national implementation plan.

"The only thing that keeps this from happening is superstition, ignorance and arrogance," Josh said. "That’s the basis for all of this. We’re not talking about the complete legalization of all drugs. We’re talking about medical use. All we can do is hammer away at the negative attitude that exists out there. Someone like me can help. I’m not intimidated. I just don’t feel too good."

Change is difficult

Josh believes that if enough states get together and demand a change, the federal government will come around. It won’t be easy.

The first time Arizona passed the referendum, Sen. Jon Kyl said, "I must tell you I am extraordinarily embarrassed" by Arizona’s vote. Kyl had nothing but disdain for what he called "pothead doctors" who might help someone like Josh.

"When you take a position like mine, people are going to attack you," Josh

said. "But I don’t worry about it. A long time ago my dad told me, ‘If they

try to run you out of town, get out in front and make it look like a

parade.’ "

That’s not easy when you’re weak and sick and all you want for Christmas is a few plump joints.

A few days ago, a friend brought Josh the nub of a marijuana cigarette, a "roach," and after a few puffs he felt good enough to eat a little.

"You live day to day and fight day to day," he said, "and you try to keep your dignity and your sense of humor and your sense of determination."

His resolve was shaken a couple of days ago, however, when the temperature dropped and there was snow in Phoenix.