547 Days

I should have been a Broadway star.  You cannot imagine how much delight I get out of people breaking out in song half way through a stressful situation, or a happy situation, or a sad situation, or any situation ever.  I love singing.  I remember my brother begging me to stop singing all the time when we were kids.  He wanted to listen to the artist singing their song, not me.  I sing commercial jingles and kids songs and oldies and I can even do a mean Mariah, if I put my mind to it.  This song has been running through my mind for a few days now...

...how do you measure a year?  Better yet, how do you measure a year and a half? 

Five Hundred forty seven days and four hours

In daylights?

In sunsets?

In midnights?

In cigarettes not smoked???

Five Hundred forty seven days and four LOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG hours.

Yes, it's been a year and a half since I last had a cigarette.  I still think about having a smoke every single day.  Sometimes, when I walk by someone smoking, I breathe in extra deep.  I'm an occasional second hand smoker.  Sometimes, the cravings get so intense it's all I can do to resist jumping in the car, going to the closest gas station and buying a pack of Matinee Extra Mild.  Sometimes, I'll get in the car after work and reach for my smokes and lighter completely out of habit.  I miss smoking every single day.  And my weight shows that I have definitely relied on food to get me through the cravings.

But,

I have circulation in my hands and feet again.  This is probably the most significant change since I quit smoking.  My hands and feet are warm like all the time.  This is really huge for me, because I always used to sleep in socks because my toes were icicles.  My finger tips would turn blue for absolutely no reason....well, other than I smoked and it totally screwed with my circulation.

Also, I don't yawn as much.  I know, super weird things I've noticed, huh?  But I've heard that yawning is your way of giving your body a surge of oxygen...and I used to always yawn after smoking.  I was starving my body of oxygen.  I'm also less tired, more energy.

Then there are the more obvious benefits to not smoking.  I have more money ($10/pack once a day...that adds up).  I've been on a trip to Disneyland with Q, Calgary to see my BFF, the Dominican Republic to see my brother marry his beautiful bride, and next Wednesday I'm going to Las Vegas with BFF.  So, ya...a little extra pocket change. 

I don't smell like stale smoke.  My new car, Lola, still smells like a new car and not like a dirty ashtray.  My breath might be coffee breath, but it is not stale smoke and coffee breath which is so much worse.  My clothes smell fresh, my hair smells like shampoo.  It's all good.

I have more time.  Five minutes here, five minutes there - you don't really notice how much time smoking steals from your life.  Not to mention, I was a slave to my addiction and my cravings.  Everything I did was controlled by my cravings - could I sit through a two hour movie in the theater without having a smoke?  Or would I need to sneak out in the middle?  Where would I be able to stop during the road trip in order to fix my nic fit?  Would I have enough time to smoke and eat on my lunch break?  Every single thing I did was done with smoking in mind.  It has no control over me any longer.  My time is my own. 

And most importantly, Q has peace of mind.  I have peace of mind.  My family has peace of mind.  My risk of developing coronary heart disease has decreased by half, how crazy is that?  My son knows that his mommy is healthy and that I made a choice to be healthy for him.  That means the world to me, and probably to him as well.  Once a smoker however, always a smoker.  People who haven't smoked in 20 years tell me they still think about it every single day, others hadn't smoked in 5 years and then one day, for whatever reason, decided to pick up a pack and were back two packs a day in the blink of an eye. 

I have to remind myself of all the good things I have to live for now that I no longer live for cigarettes.



Six Months (Smoke Free)

Yes, you read correctly.  Six months smoke free. 

This has been a long, long two year journey.  See *Here* and *Here* if you don't believe me.  Did I say it was long?  It was.  It was horribly long.  It was probably one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do in my whole entire life.  Over the course of the past ten years I have tried millions of different ways to quit.  I have tried the patch (made my arm ache and tingle), gum (tastes horrible), inhaler (gross), acupuncture (worked while it was in), a web site support group (depressing....) and I even tried cold turkey 4 separate times. 

Looks like fifth time's a charm. 

So, what's my key to success you ask?   Well, I thought you'd never...

• Will Power - Bwahahahahahahahahahahahaha.  I know, right?  Me and will power mix like oil and water.  But, it took gobs and gobs of will power to not just give in, drive to the nearest gas station and buy a pack of smokes.  How doyou fight that?  You think about that first drag from that first smoke of the morning, and how it makes you dizzy and light headed and not very pleasant.  You think about your son - wanting to see him graduate from high school, university, get married, have children of his own.  Those were two things that got me through.
• Eat - Whether you want to or not, you WILL gain weight.  So, you might as well just go with it and accept it.  Co-incidentally, the more you deny it (or yourself), the more you will eat and the more weight you will gain.  In total, I've gained 30lbs.  But that's over two years of starting and stopping, starting and stopping.  That's also two years of closet eating.  This time around, I stopped the chocolate and started the baby carrots, snap peas and almonds. 
• Drink - No, not alcohol (although, being un-sober for six months might be one way to get through it....okay, okay, maybe not...) The experts say water, but water makes me gag so I found that tea (green tea was probably the best, with just a touch of honey) and coffee helped me.  Instead of a morning smoke, I would have a morning coffee, the hotter, the better, too.  It soothes, it comforts.  Instead of an evening smoke, a cup of green tea. 
• Talk about it - I think everyone is sick of hearing about how long I've been smoke free.  I tell everyone on every single anniversary.  I tell strangers, I tell coworkers, I tell family members.  It keeps me accountable and it makes me feel proud of myself, so I don't care if you're sick of hearing it.  However, you'll also find allies - fellow non smokers who also celebrate every single anniversary, even it's five years along.  Remember, once a smoker - always a smoker.
• Change your environment, change your routine - I think that moving to a job where none of my coworkers smoke was huge in contributing to my success.  It eliminated that extra peer/self pressure and longing to belong.  It took away the social aspect and made it a solitary, alienating habit.
• Separate yourself from the mind games - The first few times I quit, it was an emotional journey.  I was mourning the loss of a friend and I allowed myself to get sucked into the grief.  If you separate yourself from that grief and don't give your addiction a *personality* it is so, so much easier.  Instead of missing your cigarette, think of missing the ability to breath on your own and requiring an O2 bottle 24/7.
• Give yourself a treat - Or two.  Or three.  For the first six months, think "I deserve this" because you absolutely do.  Whatever *this* might be...a new pair of shoes, a purse, a ring.  Splurge on yourself. 
• YOU CANNOT JUST HAVE *ONE* - It's true.  Don't think you can.  One leads to two, and two leads to a pack, and once you've bought another pack, you're a full fledged smoker, honey.  Yes, yes you are. 

Don't get me wrong, six months later, I still think of having a smoke every single day.  No joke.  But after 6 months, it'll burn my lungs and make me want to puke.  I keep telling myself that.  My weight gain has plateaued, I hope, and now I add a little bit more exercise, some healthy eating.  But you know what?  I can totally do it, because I am invincible.  I just quit smoking...I can do anything!

Okay, so what benefits are there, six months in?

• I have way more energy.  I cannot stress enough how much I notice this
• I'm not tired and yawning all the time
• My stress levels have decreased (and my mood is UP!!)  No more highs and lows
• My skin is healthier.  It looks pinker (instead of a dull grey), and my acne has calmed down
• My teeth and gums look healthier (my gums are pink again)
• My hair and clothes and skin don't smell anymore
• No more head aches.  Well, less headaches 
• My resting heart rate used to be 102 beats per minute, now it's 89

I don't notice that my sense of smell or taste is any better, but then again, I've gained 30lbs so maybe it all does taste better and I just haven't noticed.

Have you quit smoking lately?  How'd you do it?  Geez, forget smoking...have you eliminated anything unhealthy in your life/routine and noticed a difference?  How'd you do it and why?

Weighty Issues

I've not been very secretive about the fact that I've gained a whole lotta weight since quitting smoking *four* times in two years.  Usually, I don't have any issues with my body.  I mean, I'm no Victoria Secret Model...I'm lacking about 4 inches in height and that's not going to ever change, so you know, there's that.  But I like that I'm curvy and that I have hips, a waist and a nice rack (haha!!)  I think that my body is an amazing vessel that does incredible things.  For starters, my body pushed a 10lb 6oz baby with a 14in head attached to a 21in body out of a tiny little 10cm hole.  Then there's the whole thing my heart does - pumping blood through my veins, that's pretty spectacular.  It's incredible to me that every second of every day my body is creating new blood cells to replace all the old ones that have died off.  Also, It's pretty neat that I can walk.  I think that's awesome!!

If I were to have plastic surgery (which I never, ever would because I'm too afraid of the pain) the only thing that I'd really, really want is a bigger nose.  But I don't think that's the point of this post really, is it?

Lately when I bend over to tie my shoes (or even just put them on) I get winded.  I'm winding myself.  I weighed myself on this scale we have at work because I refuse to buy one (I'd be weighing myself every other minute) and I'm really hoping it was malfunctioning.  It read 122kg...that's like 268lbs.  That's like, um...obese for my height.  I quickly jumped off and jumped back on again, and evidently lost 82kg in three seconds, because this time I was only 40kg. 

We have this beautiful elliptical machine that I've been staring at for the past month.  It was quite the work out putting it together.  It's daunting, really.  Having to lose 20kg, that is.  Although, the elliptical is a little daunting too. 

Three days. 

I've been using the elliptical for three days now.  I die every time I get on it.  I'm starting out slow...baby, baby steps.  Today I went for 20 minutes, walked (ellipted?) 6 kilometers and burned 200 calories.  And I feel good.  I feel really good.  I feel like I want to do it again tomorrow and the next day and the next day. 

The only problem is that it tells me how many calories I've burned.  That means I look at a chocolate bar and think, "I can't eat that.  That will take 20 minutes to burn off.  Is it worth 20 minutes??"  So maybe it's not so much a problem as a reminder...a reminder that I can't eat that piece of cake or that pastry or that chocolate bar.

I keep looking in the mirror, trying to see if I've lost any weight.  Trying on my jeans, trying to see if there's an inch movement.  I mean, it's been three whole days.  I should start to see changes after three whole days.  Q say he can "definitely" tell that I've lost weight.  The kid is so good, I should seriously consider paying him for his efforts!  He also tells me that I'm doing really well and refills my water bottle for me.  His encouragement is appreciated, especially around the 18 minute mark.  It's totally genuine too. 

The struggle continues...

Transaction Not Approved

After work this morning, I decided to go shopping.  I knew that if I went home and straight to bed, I would lie awake in bed thinking, "Oh, I need to go here to get this and there to get that."  I was being proactive.  Then, I reasoned, I could go home and sleep like a baby knowing that everything I needed to do was done. 

Ya.  It didn't work.

I would kill for a smoke right now.

First of all, when I'm tired I'm not the most decisive person ever.  I ended up wandering around aimlessly, picking things up, carrying them around, then putting them back and picking something else up.  For an hour.  Finally, I find what I *think* I'm looking for and stand in line.  But when I try to pay, my bank card won't work. It says 'Transaction Not Completed' which to me means that there's a missed connection somewhere, but to the cashier, it means, "Oh, your card has been declined," really loud, so everyone can hear.  I'm like, "No.  It means that the transaction wasn't completed."  And she replies, "Ya, they couldn't complete the transaction, because there isn't enough money in your account."  Blasted, I'm in my uniform...you know, because I've just come from work...so I can't get all up in her face, but boy oh boy, I was really super tempted.  So I calmly leave, go to the bank and take out the cash, no problem-o. 

Next, I stop to pick up a remote control car for Q from my dad and it's on sale, so I'm super stoked.  Go to pay for it with my card that is now working (right?) and this time it decides that I've 'Exceeded Daily Limit'.  Of course, of course I have.  I nearly scream at the cashier, "NO I HAVEN'T!!!!  I HAVEN'T!!!!!!"  But instead, I calmly smile and say, "Okay, I'll just come back later.  I must be having a problem with my card."

Here I am... I've just wasted two hours that I could have spent sleeping.  And I just checked my bank account.  Absolutely nothing is wrong with my card.  There is money in there, just like I knew there would be.  I have not exceeded my daily limit.  Ugh.  I want a cigarette so bad...

It's been almost two months, FYI.  On Saturday, I will be two months smoke free.  How is it possible that I could still really, really, really want one?  Maybe I should go to bed.  You can't crave a ciggie when you're sleeping, can you? 

That is, if I can sleep.  I'll probably just lie awake, thinking of all the things I *still* need to do.

Don't Wanna Jinx This, Yo...

Saturday morning at 11:00am, I decided that I had had enough.  For about a month now, I've been doing it but not enjoying it.  In fact, every single time I did it, I felt ill.  It wasn't fun anymore.  It was smelly.  It was  expensive.  I was done.

I took two puffs of the cigarette, and then put it out.  I've not picked one up since.  Now, that's not to say that I've not wanted one.  But it hasn't been an overwhelming need to have one because I cannot breathe without nicotine in my system.  Plus I am so effing nauseous that the thought of a smoke makes me want to well...puke.  For some ridiculous reason, my withdrawl from nicotine, tar, formaldehyde, etc...is extreme, horrid, nausea.  I am on day 5 now, though, so hopefully the waves of "I'm gonna puke" will only last a day or two more.  What makes someone go through this 4 times is absolutely beyond me.  You'd think that someone would quit once, realize how friggen horrible it is to quit and never. ever. ever. pick up another cigarette again.  There's something in our brain that forgets pain and agony though...I guess it's the same thing that makes us have more than one baby and stuff.  Yes.  Yes, I did just compare quitting smoking to pregnancy and labour and delivery. 

Anyways, I totally decided that I was over smoking at the wrong time of the month, because not only am I going through withdrawl, I'm also feeling a tad PMS-ish.  So not only do I feel like puking, but I feel like puking in your shoes because you're so annoying to me right now.  Well, not you in particular...but someone.  Someone's shoes. 

*Someone* who calls me and tells me that his 'friend' is in town and she'll be picking Q up from school instead of me.  On my day.  Call me just a little bit crazy, but I'm not just going to step aside and let some woman pick up my son from school ("oh, but I thought you could sleep more if she picked him up...")  So, I'm like crazy psycho detective momma...

me:  "I don't really know how I feel about this.  I mean, I don't know anything about her."

him:  "Oh ya, totally.  She's not comfortable with this unless you are.  She feels the exact same way."

Okay...I'm not really sure she feels the EXACT same way as I do, seeing as how she didn't go through 24 hours of labour before pushing out a 10lb 6oz baby, you know.  And she hasn't raised him for the past 6 years, but I can totally see how she feels EXACTLY how I do about this child. 

me:  Can I find out some stuff about her?

him:  Oh ya, totally. Sure.

Dead silence...

me:  Okay, well how long have you known her?

him:  Two years.

me:  Where did you meet her?

him:  On the internet.

Holy Shit.  First of all, pulling teeth would have been a) faster and b) less painful.  But *on the internet*, really?  Do I really need to go through all the reasons why I should feel a little bit leery about someone he met on the internet looking after my child???  I know she's standing right by him while I'm asking the questions.  I can totally picture them both rolling their eyes at me.  But, um...hello...let's turn the tables here.  I've just met a man on-line and he's come to visit me for a week, and I'm gonna have him pick up my son from school while I'm at work.  Alarm bells, anyone?  Why is it that just because she's a woman, I'm supposed to be all okay with it.  Women can be serial killers too, can't they?  I realize it's way less common, but I'm not going to just trust the safety of my child to some stranger.

In the end, I told them that I didn't feel comfortable with it.  Not to mention, I was free and could totally pick my kid up.  It was just easier for Mr. Ex.  It just sucks that I'm always the bad guy.  Q is in the background saying, "She's really super nice, mommy.  It's okay."  Kinda like the time Q told me that he needed his passport because he and daddy were going to an Island under Florida to meet one of daddy's friends who lives there.  Uhhhh......no....no, I don't think you are.  Turns out it was Costa Rica and it was his dental hygienist and they had no real *concrete* plans to visit.  I don't know about you, but my hygienist has never ever once invited me to visit them in Costa Rica.  I guess I'm going to the wrong dentist.

But no, I'm the bad guy.  I'm the one who enforces the bed time.  I'm the one who makes him read and reads him stories.  I'm the one who makes the doctors appointments and dentist appointments and parent/teacher interviews.  I'm the one who enrolls him in sports and school and makes him eat all his dinner.  I'm the one who does all this stuff.  Mr. Ex just shows up.

I don't let Q ride his bike in the house (!!)  I don't have a completely empty living/dining room so we can play hockey in. the. house.  I wonder how many times he hears "you're mean."  Sometimes it just gets a little tiresome.  Why do I have to be the responsible one all the time? 

So, not really a good week to quit with the smokes.  But really, when is a good time to quit?  It would be really nice to release some of this angst. 

'Q'-isms

Setting the scene: 
Me: in bathroom...inspecting my large pores and plucking eyebrows.  In barges the kid...

Q:  What are these?  (holds up a pack of cigarettes)

Me: Where did you find those?

Q:  In your purse.  What are they?

Me: uhhhh....they're smokes...

Q:  I'm throwing them out.

Me:  uhhh...okay...

Q leaves.  I continue plucking.

Q:  What are these? (holds up matches)

Me:  They're matches....

Q:  How much do smokes cost?

Me:  About $10.00

Q:  You can't afford that.  You only had $100 in your bank account (recounting a random number I gave him when he wanted me to buy him a toy and I told him I didn't have enough money.."How Much?"  he asked..."$100.00," I replied.  This kid remembers everything!!) and then you spent $10.00?  On smokes?  Now you only have $90.00.

Me:  You're right.

Q:  And do you want to die?  You could die.  Tomorrow.

Me:  No.  I don't want to die.  You're right.

Q leaves the room...

Me:  Hey dude?

Q:  Yeah?

Me:  Um....what were you doing looking through my purse?

Q:  Looking for candy.  If you really wanted to hide your smokes, you should have put them in here (holds up my makeup bag).  I wouldn't have looked in here for candy.

*Sigh* 

What am I going to do?  Take four...

Take Three

This time I managed to go without a smoke for two months.  I was like, totally prepared for it this time.  I was wiser.  I had quit before and failed, so this time I knew what I had to do to quit right.  I knew my weaknesses.  I knew that given the opportunity, I would have a cigarette without even batting an eyelid.  It's obvious to me that I am weak and have no will power. 

(Even as I type this, I am sniffing the air.  I'm hoping that the neighbour will come outside and have a smoke and I'll be able to smell it.  Maybe she might even give me one if I look pitiful enough.)

It's been almost 48 hours.

My friend says that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

So this time, I'm doing everything exactly the same as before.  I'm going cold turkey.  That's my only plan.

The thing is...I don't so much want to quit this time.  I missed it soooooo much the last time.  I really, really missed it.  Oh, I really missed everything about it.  

But the other day, Q found me smoking and totally freaked out.  Like, we're talking total melt down.  I couldn't calm him down.  He tried to claw my eyes out and rip my clothes off, and I only wish I was exaggerating.  My mom had to drag him away from me kicking and screaming, but not before he grabbed the smoke and broke it into a million different pieces.  The irony is a flashback 27 years ago, when my Auntie June was dying of brain cancer, and I broke all of her cigarettes.  I was horrified that even as she was dying, to weak to leave her bed, she still wanted a smoke.  It's one of my earliest memories.  I was five, just like Q.  Auntie June died shortly thereafter. (Which co-incidentally reminds me of my second earliest memory...my Mother swears it never happened.  She says she would never ask her 5 year old daughter if she wanted to kiss her dead aunt in her casket....I remember otherwise...)  My uncle, a chain-smoker for the majority of his life, has just been diagnosed with a brain tumour.  The reality is overwhelming.

I know that Q is the number one reason why I must quit.  I know that.  I know he needs his Momma until he grows up.  In fact, just as much as I need to be with him and watch him grow.   He is the world to me.  It makes me sick that my addiction to nicotine is stronger than my devotion to Q.  What a terrible, terrible mother.  It's even worse to hear the words out loud.  And that's what Q sees.  His weak momma loving smoking more than him.  Ugh.  It makes me sick. 

Quitting three times in a year and a bit is like deciding you want to gain weight just for the joy of being 30 lbs fatter.  Honestly, I've gained 30lbs.  One day a few weeks back one of the little boys in Q's class comes running up to me, and says, "Mrs. Miller, I know you have a baby in your tummy!!!"  "No, D.  I don't.  I just have a lot of fat in my tummy."  That puts the count at 3.  Three people have asked me when I'm due or if I'm expecting.  One a friend, one a stranger, and one a child.  I've gone from a size 6 to a size 12.  Maybe they're onto something.  The last time I was this size I had a 10lb baby growing inside me.  But horribly, looking in a mirror just gets me even more down in the dumps.  No more chocolate bars?  Well, that just makes me want to smoke.  Ahhhh, now you see my problem. 

I can't even imagine how this time will be different.  But they say third time's a charm...how can you lose with a saying like that?  Third time's a charm...riiiight.

6 Weeks

I quit smoking 6 weeks ago today.

(Cue Fanfare)

It truly pains me to mention the benefits I've noticed since my last puff...only because I am still mourning the loss of my old friend.  But here goes anyways...

I have loads more energy.  I can walk up a flight of stairs and not get winded.  So, you know, that's nice.  I'm not going to be running a marathon anytime soon, but I can enjoy a walk with Molly without wanting to die.  I am not as tired.  When I smoked, I yawned all the time and generally was just lethargic.  Since I've quit I don't need afternoon naps.  Go figure!  My skin is glowing.  Glowing!  I don't look a pale shade of grey anymore.  My skin is pink and rosy and my troublesome acne is GONE.  I've always wondered why I still get zits in my thirties.  Huh, now I know!

And then there's the obvious...I have more money, not spending $10.00 every two days on a pack of cigs.  And I don't smell like stale smoke.  My hands don't smell, my hair doesn't smell and my clothes don't smell.  I'm not I'm not ruled by the iron cigarette, the craving that is.

This time round, I haven't replaced my cravings for a cigarette with chocolate bars and candy and pastries and chocolate and more chocolate.  Instead I eat a carrot, or a handful of nuts or some dried fruit.  So....I haven't gained any weight this time around.  This is absolutely fabulous - because I still have to lose the 15lbs I gained the last time I quit.

And yet, every single time I see someone smoke I think, "Oh, they're soooooo lucky!"  When I walk by someone smoking, I breathe in extra deep and fondly remember my old friend.  I haven't gotten to the point yet where I loathe cigarettes.  This is the point to which every non-smoking smoker must reach.  I know that in order for me to remain a non-smoker I have to learn to hate everything about them...the smell, the hold it has on your life, the way it robs your bank account every two days, the obvious health ramifications.  I'm not quite there yet.  Of course, I realize the benefits of smoking, and I absolutely appreciate them.  I still really just miss my friend.

This Time 'Round

The first time I quit smoking (for real - I quit before for like 4 hours.  I know.  Will power is not one of my strongest qualities...)  I was cocky.  From day 1,  I called myself a 'non-smoker.'  Of course, at the time I didn't really think of it as being cocky, I told myself it was mind over matter.  Therefore if I said it enough, it would become true.  

"I don't want a smoke!"  I would brag. 

"Ugh, the smell of stale smoke makes me gag."  I would lie.

Sure, I could stand outside with all the smokers and *not* inhale their second hand smoke.  I was a non-smoker.

Of course I could sit on the patio and enjoy a beer without a cigarette.  I was a non-smoker.

Absolutely I could go into the gas station to pay for my gas and resist the urge to buy the cigarettes staring back at me from behind the counter.  Because...I was a non-smoker.

I could have just one puff of that smoke, because I was a non-smoker.  No big deal...

5 months later, I was a full-fledged smoker. 

This time 'round, I'm not so cocky.  I am a smoker.  As much as I wish I wasn't, I am.  I cannot stand out with the smokers, I cannot have a beer on the patio on a sunny afternoon.  Alas, I will have to pay at the pump for the foreseeable future.  I love the smell of smoke.  In a stressful situation?  My first inclination is to have a smoke.  Bored?  A smoke could fill the time. 

I am a smoker.  Just as a drug addict or an alcoholic is and always will be an addict, I will always be a smoker.  I can't have just one.  One leads to just one more. 

But I am two weeks smoke free.  The nausea has gone away - for the most part.  I don't crave a cigarette 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  About once every hour, I will think..."oooooh, let's go have a smoke!"  and then I remember I can't.  A few deep breaths, or a walk around the block and it goes away until the next wave of desire comes along. 

It's a head game.  The thought of not having a cigarette ever, ever again is worse than actually not having one.  And if I have *just one more* I'm back to the beginning.  I didn't go thru hell just to start all over.

One more...

I'm dying. 

Okay.  Maybe not.

But close. 

I quit smoking (again) on Saturday morning.  Have you ever tried to quit smoking?  I'm jumping ahead of myself...have you ever smoked before? 

It's fabulous.  The taste of it, the smell of it, the feel of it between your lips.  Ugh.  I would kill for a cigarette right now. 

Aside from all of it's fabulousness though, is a stigma.  After moving into the new house, I stepped out onto the deck to have a smoke and I heard this voice from nowhere (maybe it was God) say, "Oh no.  She's a smoker."  Pause. "No, I'm watching her right now."  Pause.  "On the patio."  I looked everywhere to see where the voice was coming from, but I couldn't find it.  I slowly put the cigarette out and slinked back inside. 

Another time, I was smoking in a parking lot, with Q near by.  Some old guy walks by and mutters (very loudly, probably because he was deaf...) "Bet she smokes with the kid in the car too."  It's the stigma.  I'm a trailer trash momma.

Your clothes smell, your hair smells, your hands smell, your breath smells. 

Then there's the whole it-could-kill-you thing.  How can something so wonderful be so lethal?  How?  This is my main reason for quitting.  Q saying, "you know you're going to die if you keep smoking, right?" Damn public service announcements -educating our kids.  I think PSA's should mind their own business. 

I quit smoking a year ago.  And I was pretty good for 5 whole months.  And then I thought I could have just one more.  That's the lie...you can't just have one more.  It leads to another, and another.  Plus, I substititued candy for cigarettes, so I gained about 20 lbs.  Everytime I craved a cigarette, I'd eat a chocolate bar instead.  The first time someone asked if I was expecting, I laughed it off (and asked what she thought I was expecting...)  When the second person asked when the baby was due...It was all I could do to keep from ripping their head off. 

I guess everyone has a different reaction to quitting smoking.  I'm going cold turkey.  Nothing else has worked in the past.  It just prolongs the inevitable...smoking again...   I've tried accupunture, nicorettes, the patch.  They just keep nicotine in my system, and make me crave it more. My withdrawl consists of insane nausea, combined with bouts of dizziness.   My lungs feel as though someone broke every single one of my ribs and then jumped on them once more just to be sure.  Not to mention the overwhelming desire to punch the guy who cut me off in traffic, yell at the wind for blowing my hair into a mess, or any other number of completely irrational outbursts that could possibly release a tiny bit of angst I'm feeling.  So, I'm on day 3 of feeling like I need to puke.  And the world is spinning.  Even when I close my eyes. 

And this is not even the worst of it.  Once the physical withdrawl symptoms disappear...then the mental/emotional ones begin.  Smoking is a relationship.  I know this sounds ridiculous to some.  But it is a relationship.  It's like the abusive boyfriend that you keep going back to because after he hits you, he tells you he loves you and all you remember is the wonderful things about him.  Quitting is a process.  Breaking the routine.  The first coffee without a cigarette, the first beer without a cigarette.  The most haunting thought ever is that I can never have another smoke again.  I look at people who are smoking, and I think,"Oh!  They're so lucky!  They're allowed to smoke."

Once this wave of nausea passes, I will be reminded of the fact that as the nicotine leaves my body, the following is happening:

• 20 minutes: My blood pressure and pulse rate return to normal
• 8 hours: Oxygen levels in my blood return to normal.
• 24 hours: Carbon monoxide has been eliminated from my body. Lungs start to clear out mucus and other smoking debris.
• 48 hours: There is no nicotine left in my body. Ability to taste and smell is greatly improved.
• 72 hours: Breathing becomes easier. Bronchial tubes begin to relax and my energy levels increase.
• 2-12 weeks: Circulation improves throughout my body, making walking and running a whole lot easier.
• 3-9 months: Coughs, wheezing and breathing problems get better as lung functions increase by up to 10%. 
• 5 yrs: Heart attack falls to about half that of a smoker.
• 10 years: Risk of lung cancer falls to half that of a smoker. Risk of heart attack falls to same as someone who has never smoked.

I want to drop kick everyone who says I can do it.  If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it.  I can jump from an airplane too.  Doesn't mean I'm going to.  And stop having faith in me.  Okay?  Okay.