The cultural perception of cannabis has undergone a dramatic transformation over the past two decades. A substance once demonized in public discourse is now legal for recreational use in nearly half of U.S. states. Cannabis lounges, dispensaries, and wellness products have become mainstream, and the fear-based rhetoric of the past has given way to a relaxed, even celebratory attitude about marijuana. Yet, as the stigma fades and legalization spreads, a new and deeply troubling phenomenon has emerged—one that underscores the complexity and potential risks of cannabis use: “scromiting,” a portmanteau used by medical staff to describe the alarming combination of screaming and vomiting endured by some users.
Scromiting is the most visible—and harrowing—symptom of Cannabis Hyperemesis Syndrome (CHS), a condition that remains both under-recognized and poorly understood. For years, the cannabis community and even much of the medical establishment paid little attention to scattered reports of severe, recurrent nausea and vomiting among frequent users. But as emergency rooms across the country began seeing a rise in cases, the pattern became impossible to ignore. Patients, often young adults and teens, arrive doubled over in pain, unable to keep food or water down, sometimes admitted to the hospital multiple times in a single year. The syndrome’s attacks are so intense that sufferers may literally scream in agony while vomiting—hence, “scromiting.”
The onset of CHS can be sudden and bewildering. It often strikes within 24 hours of cannabis use, but symptoms can persist for days. The pain is described by patients as burning, relentless, and agonizing, centered in the stomach and resistant to standard anti-nausea medications. “There are currently no therapies approved by the Food and Drug Administration, and standard anti-nausea medications often don’t work,” explains Dr. Chris Buresh, an emergency medicine specialist. The only reliable relief, ironically, comes from excessively hot showers or baths—a coping mechanism discovered by desperate sufferers, but one that provides only temporary respite. Ultimately, the only proven way to halt the cycle is to stop cannabis use altogether.
The stories of those affected by CHS are grim. One patient recounted being admitted to the emergency room four or five times within six months, each episode marked by uncontrolled vomiting, unbearable pain, and a sense of panic. “I’m just begging God, please make it stop,” one woman recalled, likening the pain to childbirth—the worst physical agony she had ever endured. For others, the pain is so overwhelming that morphine is required for relief. Even after symptoms subside, the condition can return if cannabis use is resumed, creating a frustrating and often bewildering loop for users who do not associate their illness with marijuana.
Cannabis Hyperemesis Syndrome’s prevalence is on the rise, especially as cannabis use becomes more widespread and socially accepted. A study from George Washington University surveying over 1,000 CHS patients found a strong link between early, prolonged cannabis use and emergency room visits for scromiting. Disturbingly, adolescent cases in the U.S. increased more than tenfold from 2016 to 2023, with the fastest rises seen in states where recreational cannabis remains illegal. While overall CHS cases are still higher in states with legal cannabis, the higher rates among younger users in prohibition states suggest that stigma and lack of information may delay recognition and treatment, worsening outcomes.
The paradox of CHS is that it occurs in people who often use cannabis specifically to relieve nausea—yet, in some, it has the opposite effect. The mechanisms underlying CHS remain unclear, though researchers believe that chronic exposure to high levels of THC may disrupt the body’s natural gastrointestinal regulation. The syndrome is also a reminder that cannabis, while safer than many substances, is not without risks. The narrative of a harmless, “natural” remedy obscures the reality that any drug, used frequently or in high doses, can have unexpected and severe side effects in some individuals.
Public health officials and medical professionals are now racing to catch up with the reality of scromiting. Awareness campaigns and education for both users and healthcare providers are essential, given that many patients and even some doctors remain unfamiliar with CHS. Too often, sufferers endure repeated—and unnecessary—hospitalizations, extensive diagnostic testing, or even surgery before the true cause of their symptoms is identified. The lack of FDA-approved therapies further complicates treatment, leaving cessation of cannabis as the only proven intervention.
As cannabis continues to move into the mainstream, the phenomenon of scromiting serves as a sobering reminder of the need for caution, research, and honest conversations about risks. Cannabis Hyperemesis Syndrome is rare relative to the millions who use marijuana without issue, but for those affected, it can be life-altering. The stories of patients wracked by pain, confusion, and repeated ER visits should not be ignored or dismissed as isolated incidents. Instead, they should prompt further study, better regulation, and more nuanced public messaging about the complexities of cannabis use in modern society. In a landscape where perception is rapidly shifting, the rise of scromiting is a call for balance—a reminder that even as old narratives fall away, new realities demand our attention and our care.
