WHAT IS AUTOIMMUNE DISEASE?

Autoimmune disease occurs when the body’s defense system mistakenly attacks its own healthy cells. Instead of protecting, the immune system begins to harm—causing inflammation in joints, rashes on skin, or damage to internal organs.

WHAT ARE CHEMICAL MESSENGERS?

The discovery of chemical messengers began in the early 1900s, when scientists realized the body communicates using more than just nerves. In 1904, British physiologist Ernest Starling coined the term “hormone” after discovering secretin, the first known chemical messenger released by the gut to signal the pancreas. This breakthrough shifted the focus from purely nerve-based communication to a broader understanding of the body’s internal signaling systems. Over the decades, researchers identified neurotransmitters like acetylcholine and dopamine, expanding our knowledge of how the brain and body coordinate complex functions through a vast network of hormones, neurotransmitters, and other signaling molecules.

THE BODY HEROIC: MY JOURNEY FROM PAIN TO POWER

Growing up on Keaka Drive in Aliamanu, Hawaiʻi, I lived the kind of childhood that’s almost mythical today.

My days were typical of someone growing up in the 60’s and 70’s in Hawai’i. After school, once homework and chores were done, I could be found at the park with friends in the hot afternoon sun or drawing superheroes and cars on the living room coffee table. Summers meant weekend beach trips to Hale’iwa, Waimanalo or Ala Moana, or touch football games on the street, or basketball in our backyard or in the neighbor’s driveway. Sometimes we’d ride our bikes to Moanalua Shopping Center or through Foster Village. Once, my cousin and I rode our bikes all the way to his house in Makiki from Aliamanu, which felt like a heroic journey all its own because its not something kids did back in the day.

Back then, we ran and competed barefoot on scorching asphalt or wore slippers, but never shoes. Our bodies felt invincible—or so we believed.

My body, however, told a different story.

Unlike my brothers, who were known for their toughness, I quietly carried physical struggles that made me feel different, even broken.

Autoimmune issues shadowed me throughout childhood, adolescence, and into adulthood—issues that doctors couldn’t fully explain and that for decades, no medicine could fix, or fully heal.

LIVING IN A DIFFERENT “NORMAL”

For most of my life, eczema, allergies, and asthma were my constant companions.

I was allergic to milk, dust, and countless unseen enemies. The insides of my elbows, behind my knees, and my neck became battlefields of relentless itching, bleeding, and scarring.

Relief was elusive. Doctors prescribed steroids, liquid Actifed, Marax, and Claritin—and later in life, Zyrtec. But nothing soothed the burning discomfort like cold showers, wet towels, or the salty embrace of the ocean.

Even as I moved to Oakland, California for college—trading humid heat for cooler air—the battles continued, only slightly less fierce.

I’m not the only one. There are many others like me.

THE HIDDEN BATTLES

In my 30s and 40s, new struggles quietly joined the old ones.

I developed difficulty swallowing—a narrowing of my esophagus that led to terrifying, hidden moments in restaurants, while at major conferences, and family gatherings. I told no one about this until I went to the emergency room after Father’s Day dinner in 2012.

More medications came. Stronger ones. Warnings about liver damage followed, and so I refused them. My issues, yet remained.

Then came the worst. In 2006, I started experiencing random, debilitating joint inflammation—in my knees, ankles, and toes. Month after month, like clockwork, for twelve years straight.

The pain was so intense that I needed ice packs, walking boots, and Prednisone in the beginning. As I suffered more events, I was given a steady supply of 600mg ibuprofen just to function. By 2017, ibuprofen wasn’t working well because I became allergic, so they put me on something stronger: Celebrex. At only 10mg, this drug’s most infamous side effect was heart attack or stroke, but I took that $800-per-bottle prescription anyway, for a year.

I’m not the only one. There are many others like me.

NO ANSWERS, ONLY ASSUMPTIONS

Dozens of doctors. Dozens of “we’re not sure” conversations.

Maybe autoimmune. Maybe Rheumatoid Arthritis, or Lupus. Maybe Lyme disease. Maybe allergies. Maybe just bad luck. There was no defined prognosis—no real solution but to continue taking potent painkillers. I felt resigned to my fate.

By my early fifties, this was my “normal.” I thought it was just the cost of playing a sport at a high level for 30 years. If my life had continued on this path as expected, this “normal” would have remained.

THEN EVERYTHING CHANGED

In 2014, my family and I started a cannabis processing company.

We produced full-spectrum, terpene-rich oils from sun-grown cannabis. It was a business venture that evolved into an unintentional personal health journey, one that remains unbelievable to me. Still.

As we built the business over time, without fanfare or expectation, my body began to change—though I couldn’t tell at first.

By 2018, the inflammation flare-ups slowed. The allergic reactions eased. My esophageal issue faded.

That same year, I reintroduced foods I hadn’t eaten for years – steak, chicken, and ribs. And for the first time, I didn’t have to cut them into nano bites, and they stayed down without incident. I was stacking days, then weeks with no allergies, no choking, but I still was battling inflammation, although with less frequency.

My last inflammation event was October 2022. I’ve not had one since.

I’m not the only one. There are many others like me.

THE HERO INSIDE

Looking back, one truth stands clear: It wasn’t cannabis that “cured” me. It wasn’t CBD that “fixed” me.

It was my own body—answering a question it had been waiting to hear for years.

Cannabinoids didn’t heal me. What they did was activate my Endocannabinoid System—my internal regulatory network—which in turn rebalanced, repaired, and restored me.

Like a ChatGPT prompt, phyto-cannabinoids asked my immune system a question:

“Is there something out of balance?”

And my body, finally given the chance, responded. My immune system said; “Eh, dis bugga is broken, go fix em.”

UNDERSTANDING THE BODY’S TRUE LANGUAGE

Today, I view neurotransmitters and all the other chemical messengers as the body’s true communication system—an elegant, electric, intelligent system designed not merely to survive, but to thrive.

CBD and other cannabinoids didn’t force healing. They sparked communication, empowered my internal systems, and asked my body the right questions—again and again—until balance returned.

Was it overnight? No. It took my body five years, or 260 weeks, or 1,825 days to heal eczema, allergies, and my esophageal issues. It took an additional two years, 104 weeks, or 728 days to rid my body of the inflammation events in my lower limbs.

Because I didn’t just need healing, I needed new receptor sites built, new pathways forged, and trust restored inside my own biology. The last time I took any painkillers were in 2018.

Its 2025, I’m 62 and I’m in the gym 5 days a week and I’m working towards a goal of competing in my age group in volleyball and track and field in 2026.

I’m not the only one. There are many others like me.

GRATITUDE, KNOWLEDGE, AND LEGACY

Today, I no longer live shackled by the pain, inflammation, or fear that once defined my life. The walking boots, ice packs, inhalers, and steroids still sit quietly on a shelf—not out of necessity, but as relics, reminders of a different era.

Now, I live in gratitude. Not for an external product, but for the heroic body I had all along—the body that was waiting, patiently, for the right key to unlock its own power.

At Pua Olonā, we honor this journey. Not by promising miracles—but by offering tools to help you ask your body the right questions.

Because you, too, may have a body waiting to be heroic. You, too, might be waiting for the right catalyst to set your healing in motion.

I’m not the only one. There are many others like me.

Maybe you’re one of them.