Post by Flo on Jul 21, 2006 18:53:03 GMT -5
Hi, I'm Flo. I've been quit for two months and three days. My quit date was May 18, 2006 at approximately 7:00 p.m. I am 56 years old and smoked for some 42 years.
I quit because on that date, my father was diagnosed with lung cancer. He is 80 years old and smoked until he was about 55 years old or so. He had a stroke some 15 years ago, has had numerous health problems such as seizures (which he used to get some 20 times a day), a pace maker put in, and lately, in the last two years or so, he's developed Parkinson's Disease (the poor dear). It was the Parkinson's which caused him to fall and break a rib. It was while looking at the x-rays of his ribs that the doctor saw some dark spots and pronounced that my father had lung cancer.
It was a moral imperative that I stop smoking. My mantra became: Which battle is easier? The battle to quit smoking today or the battle to save a diseased or dying body tomorrow. The answer was clear.
It took two weeks to get a CT scan of my dad's ribs and it was then that they realized that he did not have lung cancer. I can tell you that the nature of nicotine addiction being what it is, when I was younger, I would have started smoking again. But this time, the way was clear. The end of the road had arrived. No more.
As a consequence, my quit this time was amazingly smooth and full of joy and wonder. I had the light-headedness and craves of course but they were eclipsed by the reality of smoking. Imagine if you will being taken prisoner and there you are, waiting for the guards, and you notice the door is ajar. You peak out. No one is around. The outside beckons. You take a step. Nothing. You take another step. Nothing. There is no one around. You keep walking, ever so gingerly, never looking back, waiting for the “Halt!” at any moment, but it never comes. You are free!
That is kind of how it was with my quit this time. A state of grace. A miracle. I hadn’t planned on quitting. It happened just like that. I wanted to have a cigarette. I was so upset and stressed about my poor ole dad, but I just couldn’t. I tried to have one. Believe me. But a voice just kept saying, NO. Firmly, loudly and clearly.
I find that at two months, it’s now up to me to keep the focus. To not entertain any thoughts or craves and to keep my shoulders back and my chin up and go forth into the future, boldly and firmly, and not dally and give credence to the Junkie Mind that dwells in all of us ex-smokers. In perseverance is furtherance.
I joined this group because I saw there were many long-time quits and that gives me hope. I think it is good for ex-smokers to commune with each other. Sometimes I love to just ramble on and on about the joys of not smoking. Only ex-smokers can appreciate that. It helps me stay quit.
If I can help someone else along the way, so much the better. None of us stand alone. We all stand on the shoulders of those before us.
I am just grateful I am no longer chained to that cigarette and as long as I never take another puff, I will stay free.
I quit because on that date, my father was diagnosed with lung cancer. He is 80 years old and smoked until he was about 55 years old or so. He had a stroke some 15 years ago, has had numerous health problems such as seizures (which he used to get some 20 times a day), a pace maker put in, and lately, in the last two years or so, he's developed Parkinson's Disease (the poor dear). It was the Parkinson's which caused him to fall and break a rib. It was while looking at the x-rays of his ribs that the doctor saw some dark spots and pronounced that my father had lung cancer.
It was a moral imperative that I stop smoking. My mantra became: Which battle is easier? The battle to quit smoking today or the battle to save a diseased or dying body tomorrow. The answer was clear.
It took two weeks to get a CT scan of my dad's ribs and it was then that they realized that he did not have lung cancer. I can tell you that the nature of nicotine addiction being what it is, when I was younger, I would have started smoking again. But this time, the way was clear. The end of the road had arrived. No more.
As a consequence, my quit this time was amazingly smooth and full of joy and wonder. I had the light-headedness and craves of course but they were eclipsed by the reality of smoking. Imagine if you will being taken prisoner and there you are, waiting for the guards, and you notice the door is ajar. You peak out. No one is around. The outside beckons. You take a step. Nothing. You take another step. Nothing. There is no one around. You keep walking, ever so gingerly, never looking back, waiting for the “Halt!” at any moment, but it never comes. You are free!
That is kind of how it was with my quit this time. A state of grace. A miracle. I hadn’t planned on quitting. It happened just like that. I wanted to have a cigarette. I was so upset and stressed about my poor ole dad, but I just couldn’t. I tried to have one. Believe me. But a voice just kept saying, NO. Firmly, loudly and clearly.
I find that at two months, it’s now up to me to keep the focus. To not entertain any thoughts or craves and to keep my shoulders back and my chin up and go forth into the future, boldly and firmly, and not dally and give credence to the Junkie Mind that dwells in all of us ex-smokers. In perseverance is furtherance.
I joined this group because I saw there were many long-time quits and that gives me hope. I think it is good for ex-smokers to commune with each other. Sometimes I love to just ramble on and on about the joys of not smoking. Only ex-smokers can appreciate that. It helps me stay quit.
If I can help someone else along the way, so much the better. None of us stand alone. We all stand on the shoulders of those before us.
I am just grateful I am no longer chained to that cigarette and as long as I never take another puff, I will stay free.