Old Habits Die Hard

On Wednesday I listened to the Minnesota State Band play at the Como Pavilion. I arrived early and sat near the paddleboat vendor to wait for my friends to arrive. I was enjoying the scenery when I noticed a man at a table nearby. The man was about 25 years old with neatly styled dark hair. He was sitting with his back to me talking with a woman in her 40’s. He was smoking cigarettes.. He smoked one cigarette after another. He kept the pack in his front pocket. Except for the smoking habit, he looked very healthy. He was trim and fit and well dressed. He was very clean except he kept pulling cancerous, polluted air deep into his bronchi. His smoking bothered me. I was far enough away to avoid the scent. I was bothered by his choices. I used to smoke too. I smoked 1 ½ packs a day. I smoked Old Gold Lights and Marlboro lights (the hard pack). When I quit smoking cartons cost $4.00. I bought by the cartons. I thought 50 cents was way too much money to put into a cigarette vending machine. I was the kind of smoker who always had smokes on hand. I never had to bum a cigarette from others. I didn’t want to run out. I haven’t had a cigarette for almost 26 years. My quit smoking date is December 24, 1981. I went to the doctor that day for another ear infection. I was having ear infections all the time. The doctor said, “How can you expect to not have ear infections when you are drawing smoke into your head?” I cried the day I quit smoking. I smoked the last cigarette in the last package out of the last carton. I washed out the ashtray. I walked around the house putting all the ashtrays and lighters and matches into a box with tears running down my cheeks. Since stores were closed on Christmas Eve, I thought it would be easier to quit because I couldn’t go and buy some more. I mourned my habit. I loved smoking and I knew I was going to miss it. I promised myself I could have one cigarette on the next Christmas Eve if I didn’t have any before then. I wasn’t quitting forever, just for a year. When the year was up, I knew I was still addicted and if I had one puff on a cigarette, I would be hooked again. So I didn’t smoke a cigarette the next Christmas Eve. I held one as it burned. I was fascinated and thrilled just holding a burning cigarette again. I held a burning cigarette on Christmas Eve for several years. Craving cigarettes was a daily experience. When I got a bad craving (usually when driving) I would combat the craving by pretending to smoke. I would light an imaginary cigarette and puff on it, tap the ashes in the ashtray, and eventually stub it out. Performing that set of behaviors satisfied me. I know that sounds crazy but it helped me. Pretending to smoke was a better choice than actually smoking. Sometimes, even now, when I leave the house I check my pockets to make sure I got my cigs and matches. I haven’t had a cigarette craving for over a year now and this has been my longest stretch without a craving. For the past 15 years, my cravings are minimal and kick in only when I am driving and I see someone standing outside enjoying a smoke. The craving only lasts for a second or two but they hit me hard. The craving is like a physical reflex. A signal runs from my brain and courses through me. My thought process doesn’t have time to react. By the time I think the reflex is gone. I still miss smoking. Work breaks are not as much fun without a cigarette. I miss the camaraderie of the smokers group. I miss nicotine. I miss the behaviors of smoking. I was an excellent smoker. I could blow smoke rings. I could light a kitchen match on my thumbnail.

I wish that man could stop smoking. I don't know if this is true but I heard that cigarettes are manufactured to be more addictive now than they were back when I smoked. He might struggle more than I did to quit.

Here is a link to one of my favorite bloggers about smoking.
http://scienceblogs.com/thecheerfuloncologist/2007/08/post_106.php#more