GUS (Gave Up Smoking) is a community support diary for Kossacks in the midst of quitting smoking. Any supportive comments, suggestions or positive distractions are appreciated. We avoid discussion of political issues. If you are quitting or even thinking about quitting, please -- join us! GUS Library at dKosopedia is organically evolving, and stocked with free-range information: quit-smoking links, helpful GUS diary writing tips, and the GUS buddy list.
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Although I didn't start smoking cigarettes until age 31 (I turn 60 in Dec.), it's hard to remember when I wasn't a slave to my nicotine addiction. I first tried a cigarette when I was 12 or 13, sneaking one of mom's cigarettes and going into my "fort" in the garage rafters to try it. I turned 3 shades of green, cough and gagged and quickly put it out, and decided cigarettes were disgusting. But then in 1983 I went through a divorce and was going out to bars alot. Back then almost everyone in bars smoked and were constantly offering you one. One night for some reason I said "sure, why not?", and it wasn't nearly as bad as I remembered. In fact it went pretty darn well with a drink. I bummed another one. When I tried to bum a third one my friend said "Hey buddy, why don't you go buy a pack of your own"? So I did. That pack lasted several days, I only smoked when out at bars. The next pack only lasted a couple of days, and I started having a cigarette with the morning coffee. In no time I was up to a pack a day and smoking all day long. In the 1980s I knew cigarettes weren't good for your health, but I honestly didn't believe they could be that addictive. I started drinking black coffee when I was 16, alcohol when I was 18 along with pot, and cocaine in my mid 20s and never had any problem stopping or controlling my use of those things. If nicotine was that addictive it wouldn't be legal, right? I was wrong.
The first time I tried to quit smoking was just a few years after starting, and it was a complete disaster. I had a bad cold and lit up a cigarette while driving my car. I went into such an awful coughing spell I almost had to pull over as I thought I might pass out. I said "that's it!", stubbed the cig out and threw the rest of the pack out the window. Within 2 days I was so irritable I was unbearable to be around - I'd snap your head off if you looked at me the wrong way. I also became disoriented, literally walking into walls as I would misjudge the doorway. "God you're miserable to be around" a friend told me. I realized he was right, I was miserable, and I went and bought a pack of cigarettes and in no time I was back up to a pack a day.
I've tried to quit smoking at least a half dozen times since then, with nicotine patches, a drug in the 90s that I forget the name of but just made cigarettes taste bad but did nothing to stop the craving. Chantix in 2006, which fortunately I gave up after 10 days - listen to the warnings in TV commercials saying to "stop taking if you develop suicidal impulses"! One thing I do really well is sleep soundly - I'm asleep within a minute of my head hitting the pillow and 8 hours later I wake up, rarely recalling having dreamt. On Chantix I had really vivid, awful dreams that seemed so real I'd wake up in a sweat, so I stopped taking it, not worth it. My mind kept going back to two "success stories" for quitting smoking, and I dejectedly wondered if it would take something like that to get me to quit.
The first "success story" was told to me by my district supervisor when I managed a small hotel in Waikiki in the 1990s. She told me her husband had been a 2 pack a day smoker but he had quit. "Really?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. "How did he manage to quit"? "Well" she began, "he was in a really bad car accident. He was in a coma for 10 days, intensive care for 3 weeks, and was in the hospital for 6 weeks. He said that when he got out he said he'd already gotten over the withdrawal so he was never going to smoke again, and he never has". "Oh" I replied in disappointment. "that sounds a little drastic for me". The second story was told to me in 2005 by the realtor driving me out to look at the rural SE Arizona property where I live now. I asked if she minded if I smoked in her car and she said she really preferred if I didn't, so I of course didn't and gave the usual line about how I wish I could quit. She told me her son had been a heavy smoker but quit several years ago. Again my curiosity piqued I said "Really? How did he manage to quit"? "He was shot in the head" was the stoney reply". "Oh!" I replied in a mixture of embarrassment and confusion. "So he died?" "No, no" she assured me, "He recovered and is pretty much back to normal now. He worked in a pawn shop and was showing a customer a revolver and it went off and hit him in the top of his forehead, fortunately just grazing the top of his brain. But he was in the hospital and then rehab for months, so when he finally got out he was over not smoking and never smoked again". "Oh", I responded, "I'm glad it all worked out for him, but that sounds a little drastic for me".
So I kept right on smoking, resigned to my fate. Then this summer the Arizona Smokers Helpline - ASHline.org - a state program to reduce smoking funded by the tobacco settlement recently started running TV ads promoting their services - free nicotine patches and/or gum, and counseling services. I called them and they sent me a free 2 month supply of patches which arrived in late July. I kept buying cigarettes a few packs at a time, deciding (and putting off) on the right time to quit. And then something else came along: In mid-June I woke up one morning and noticed my right hand was numb & tingling. It felt exactly like when you bang the "funny bone" in your elbow and your hand tingles with a burning sensation for a minute, only my hand felt that way constantly. I shrugged it off for a week or so thinking it would go away. But it didn't, and was starting to significantly affect my hand strength and dexterity, and I'm very strongly right handed. I had to hold a spoon or fork in my fist like a little kid, and could barely write my name. So I finally went to see my primary care physician who referred me to a hand specialist in Tucson. He said the nerve for my little finger and the one next to it ran through the elbow and it was being pinched, so I needed surgery to re-transition (re-route) the nerve through muscle tissue. I was hesitant - I've never had surgery or even had a broken bone in my life, and haven't been in a hospital as a patient since I was born. I suggested we wait and see if it got better. But the doctor warned me that I could continue to lose muscle strength in the hand and at my age I would never regain it, so reluctantly I agreed and the surgery was scheduled for Aug. 15. A week before surgery the surgery center called to confirm and go over the details. I had to fast from 8 PM the night before, including no liquids. And they were emphatic that I had to have someone drive me home as I will have been under anesthesia. I've been happily single since that divorce in the 80s and don't have that many friends in the area and hate to impose anyway. But I was surprised when I called my HMO to learn that they covered medical transportation and would arrange for someone to drive me to surgery and drive me home. That was a relief, but I was still apprehensive about the surgery and feeling sorry for myself when it dawned on me: this is the perfect time to quit smoking! My morning routine is put on a pot of coffee, turn on the computer, and light the first cigarette. Three to four cigarettes with 3-4 cups of strong French roast coffee, and then a large breakfast. No coffee, no breakfast, a 90 minute early morning drive then getting put unconscious is pretty good disruption in my routine, which I've found really helps to kick off stopping smoking. So Sunday night I put on a patch, 21mg phase 1. Monday morning I had an urge to smoke, but pushed it out of my mind, and then it was off to surgery. I awoke with a throbbing pain in my arm, my arm in a "soft cast" if a plastic sleeve from my shoulder to my wrist wrapped in ace bandages, forcing me to keep my arm stationary with it bent 90 degrees at the elbow. First things first, I got the driver to stop at a Subway shop for a foot long sub - I was starving! Then stopped at a pharmacy to get the prescription for pain pills filled, and then back home.
Usually when I try to quit smoking, the first couple of days all I think about is how much I wish I could light it up a cigarette. It was about the last thing I thought about the first few days after my surgery as I foggy from the anesthesia and pain pills and trying to do things without the use of my right arm. I laughed the first time I tried to use a PC mouse with my left hand - I was all over the screen trying to coerce my left hand into cooperating enough to click an icon. I'm pretty good with it now. The cast came off last week and the stitches come out Tuesday, and then Thursday I'm off to my nephew's wedding in upstate New York over Labor Day weekend. It's only been two weeks, but I can't believe it has been so easy to quit, and I have never felt so confident - smoking is behind me, forever. So the lemon of having surgery has turned into lemonade for me. And I'm really happy I didn't need to go into a coma or get shot in the head to quit. Give Up Smoking - you can do it!
Think so, huh?
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