I'm Four Days Into Quitting Smoking, And No One's Dead, Especially Me, Who Is Probably Less Dead
Saturday, September 12, 2009 I have been a smoker for 21 years. That number horrifies me.
When I was 15, that was a number that I expected to hear out of an old lady's mouth, an old lady I was sure I'd never be, and yet here I am, admitting that I stole cigarettes and smoked them in the alley behind the mall 21 years ago, teaching myself to french inhale while my friend pilfered cosmetics that didn't make it into the trash compactor.
In the intervening years, my lungs could have been born, graduated high school, started college, and played their first round of beer pong. Instead, they have been scarred by an impressive amount of toxins, made to wheeze after nights of smoking binges, and suffered through more than their share of chest colds and infections. The poisons I have routinely sucked into my lungs I would not even dream of storing under my kitchen sink, but that's addiction for you.
I have been feeling under the weather lately to begin with, but more recently I started to experience a sore throat and heaviness in my chest. Naturally, I translated this to mean that I had throat cancer. If Adam Yauch can have throat cancer, I can have throat cancer. I spent the last two weeks fighting anxiety-induced insomnia, shaking through my own private fear of death under a blanket on the sofa while the sun came up.
Needless to say, it made smoking far less fun once it felt like each cigarette was my insurance against living to see tomorrow. I picked the ninth day of the ninth month of 2009 as a memorable date to quit, and then I did. That was four days ago.
Day One and Day Two went by swimmingly. I barely noticed that I wasn't setting sticks of compressed plant matter on fire and sucking on the embers. I did notice, however, how yellow my teeth are. Yuck. I also noticed that the parking lot at the corner store stinks like urine and fried chicken. I could have done without that, too. And then I discovered that the Palinode and I were sharing some kind of viral sore throat thing, which meant that I was probably not heading for death quite as soon as I thought. Yay for me.
Yesterday, Day Three, was met with a bit of trepidation, but I managed to maintain a cool exterior for all but a mere 10 minutes of it. I became unreasonably enraged when another person in my building dared to do laundry when I wanted to do laundry. I marched back up to the apartment from the laundry room and told the Palinode, while thoroughly flexing my jaw muscles, about how I WANTED TO DO LAUNDRY BUT BITCH WAS THERE, to which he responded by stroking my arms in a way that was meant to soothe while he said "Shhh, shhh, it's okay, love." At first, I was pretty sure that I could claim temporary insanity when the authorities were called to help remove his head from where I'd jammed it in the closet door, but then I figured out what was going on: EVERYTHING FUCKING SUCKED. So, I took a nap, everyone was allowed to live, and the sun set on Day Three.
Today was Day Four. I spent the first three days holed up in the apartment chewing the skin off my lips, but I knew that I couldn't stay inside forever, especially when I was so in need of miniature human skulls for a project I'm working on. I ended up doing surprisingly well in the outside world, considering the fact that every smoker who ever smoked in this city was outside smoking like it was some kind of Festival of Smoking or something. I entertained myself by secretly mocking every smoker I saw for their physical flaws.
Hey, I had only been a non-smoker for three-and-a-half days at that point. It was taking all I had not to jump the kid with the backwards hat in the alley and steal that extra cigarette he had wedged behind his ear.
I've gone a bit downhill since then. Since late this afternoon, I have cried no less than three times. The first time I cried, I cried because I was certain that the Palinode no longer loved me. The second time I cried, I cried because Adam Yauch has throat cancer. The third time I cried, I cried because it was so pathetic that I had cried about the Palinode not loving me anymore and Adam Yauch having throat cancer.
I am not so much owning this bitch known as Quitting Smoking as much as I am riding her like a barroom mechanical bull, which is not nearly as sexy as it might sound. Think less busty cowgirl in a miniskirt and more puffy-eyed addict who can't be arsed to pluck her chin hairs when there is so much not smoking to be done.
Still, I have made it to the end of Day Four, and I am still quit. I may be clenching my jaw, crying on the cats, and scarfing down the occasional Boston cream doughnut, but I am still quit. I might have made a couple of impulse purchases I can't afford and downed pints of beer to keep from eating my own fingers, but I am still quit. I even might have tried to subtly duck my head into a cloud of exhaled tobacco smoke just to get the stink on me, but I am still quit.
Day Five? Bring. It. On.
the body, the crazy, the miscellany
Reader Comments (47)
kick day five's ASS.
There is ALWAYS, WITHOUT A DOUBT, ALWAYS, a Festival of Smoking going on whenever I try to quit.
Good for you, keep up the good work homegirl! ;)
I don't mean to get all heavy on you, but my mom was a lifelong smoker who died of lung cancer, so I'm always overjoyed to hear when someone is quitting. So keep it up!
It's been five years for me but your entry makes me feel like it's day five for me too! I think I went through the exact same thing. And my best friend who lives less than two miles away? Still smokes. *sigh*
Hang in there. I have immense awe for people who quit because - to me - it's the hardest thing I've ever done.
Long-time reader here, saying .... GOOD ON YOU.
Schmutzie, I have given up many things (most of them dark and terrible) ... yet smoking was the most memorable to give up. Sent me batsh*t crazy.
Keep going! You were born not smoking ... you're just going back to your body's natural self.
good job baby. I am very proud of you. Just go all the way and don't be a social smoker like I try and be from time to time...it never works out. slippery slope. All the way. you can do anything. yr magical. xo
I'm so proud of you. Day one, two, three, four are HARD. Excruciatingly HARD.
Woo! I'm cheering you on while napping in my bed!
Good for you. Really. And good for your family and everyone who loves you.
Best to you.
Yes, kick day five's ass. This is so great that you're quitting. My mom smoked until I was in high school and I hated it! I hated the way it made my cloths and hair smell and the way it stunk up the house. You're doing a good thing for yourself and those around you. Stay strong!
Ride that bull, Shmutzie! You are doing a great thing for yourself. I know you're going cold turkey, but there's no shame in using cessation aids like the patch. If it helps make this change easier or more permanent, it's worth it!
You're doing just fine. It took me a few tries to actually quit, and the hardest part were the habits and the social aspect. After I quit, I realized most of what I did in a day revolved around smoking. Scary really.
So make sure you replace those habits with new ones-it will get easier.
And I do believe killing during this time is a pardonable offence. :P
I quit ten years ago. Smoking can be an incredibly, deeply enjoyable thing to do but gosh it's kind of more important to able to breathe. (I know everyone's tired of hearing me say this but yoga got me to quit and stay quitted.) HANG IN THERE, BABY! *picture of kitten dangling from branch* YOU CAN DO IT!
I quit smoking 5 years ago, and again 1 year ago. It's HARD. You are wise to do it publicly, with an entire network of support. I wish I'd had that!
Natalie / YMCbuzz
http://www.YummyMummyClub.ca
I feel for you. This is difficult.
What shall you do with this Rhonda girl? Very cute and well executed. Are you going to sell her?
Robin
Bill, if I do decide to sell her, I'll be putting her up in my Etsy shop. I'm growing kind of attached to her, but she's got oats to sow.
kick it!!! kick its ass!!! give it hell.
Good for you, Schmutzie. You certainly will kick Day Five's ass.
You can't see me, but I'm doing the happy dance for you. Woot!
One foot in front of the other... You can do it.
This is a really hard thing you are making yourself go through- I'm really happy to hear you are doing it, and hope you stick it out.
My Grandfather died from emphysema- he was so weak at the end that he couldn't even suck water through a drinking straw. My Uncle is going to die the same way, I think. It's a sad, pathetic way to check out, and it's not quick or painless.
I don't know you, but goddamnit let me say that it's nice to have someone to commiserate with - and while you're kicking Day Five's ass, you're also kicking cancer in the balls and the yellow off your teeth. Of course, I'm on Day Two, and there are 5/8 people who smoke that are coming to my BBQ tonight... so I might be involved in a multiple homicide later, is all I'm saying.
I think the hardest thing for me was discovering that there are WAY more offensive smells in the world than there are good ones. And though my sniffer was also being effected by pregnancy hormones which only amplified the problem, even now I am noticing smells that I had never even contemplated before.
But the good news is that you will eventually get used to the bad smells, and discover amazing ones. . . Like how the baking isle in the grocery store smells like cake even through the sealed packages. . . Or the sweet smell of plant seedlings.
Life as a non-smoker is absolutely worth all of the uncomfortable with drawl symptoms that can last way longer than others will have you believe.
Good luck! I know you can do it!
You go, girl...it's damn hard. I've done it a couple of times, hope to join you in the next few days for another try.
Good for you: I know it's hard, but you can do it!
Been five years quit here too. That fog you feel? It will lift. The fog is all that new oxygen your brain is getting, and soon it will make everything you eat taste better.
Somewhere I had a book that gave me milestones about the ways my body was healing from smoking, which I found more motivating than the scare stuff.
Today is the last day of my couch to 5k training, so I'll be running in the woods. I agree that yoga can be helpful, too. Breathing? It's everything it's cracked up to be.
Stay strong! You can do it!