Smoking related diseases take more lives each year than any other malady. Smokers cough their way to early graves, often taking non-smokers with them through exposure to second-hand smoke. And still we puff. Wanting to live forever, as I'm sure you do, I faced reality head-to-head. I concluded, in a stroke of genius, that consuming thirty cigarettes each day, living with another smoker, and maintaining a sedentary lifestyle fueled by artery-clogging, cancer-encouraging food would not boost me toward my goal of immortality. Something would have to change.
Sounds familiar, doesn't it? I knew I couldn't give up food, so I'd gave up cigarettes. Armed with advice from my doc and the American Cancer Society, I launched myself full heartedly (pun assuredly intended) into the fray.
Take my word as a twenty-year smoker, quitting is easier than you might imagine. Not a cake-walk, but with support, encouragement and the mantra smoking is not an option, you can quit. Cold turkey. Permanently. My husband and I did. Ask anyone who knows us - we're weak.
Understand that the damage you've done to yourself as an addict will immediately begin to heal when you quit; after about three years, most damage is reversed and your risk factor for heart disease or lung cancer diminishes remarkably.
If you've used cigarettes for 20 years, a pack a day has cost you about $30,000. Soon, new taxes will increase the price to $7.00 per day, or $3,265 per year. Now, decide what you'll do with all that money you'll begin to save, and choose your quitting day.
A weekend offers leisure time, fewer distractions, and less stress than a working day. Plan to stay near home. Frequent naps help. The evening before "Q" day, smoke a lot. Get a good nicotine hangover going.
Before bed, throw away all cigarettes, matches, lighters and ashtrays. Don't cheat, you won't need this stuff again. Trust yourself. This is a commitment!
Tape this on your mirror, kitchen cabinet,front door, anywhere you'll pass by often: "Smoking is not an option."
These five life-saving words will become your anthem, your mantra, your cheer. Say them silently or aloud. Say them when you're tired, irritable, or nervous. Say them when you're having a good day; you'll feel even stronger, proud of yourself.
The first day will be smooth. Filled with righteous resolution, you'll have only an occasional thought of tobacco. Don't be fooled, tomorrow will be tougher.
Quitters report headaches, nausea, light-headedness, general flu symptoms. Sound like fun?
Keep going! Chew gum, eat Lifesavers, drink oceans of water, pamper yourself to assuage withdrawal pangs. You are breaking an addiction that took a long time to develop.
As days go by, succumb to feeling ill. Rest, relax, be tolerant of yur weakness. Smoking is not an option. You know that any flu or virus lasts about a week. This nicotine flu lasts about the same. You've survived viruses. You'll make it through this, too.
Someitme around the end of the first week you'll feel nearly human. Exerise. Walk around the block to block a craving. Park your car farther than you normally would from the office or store.
A cough develops to rid your lungs of poison. It'll pass and you'll breathe deeper, easier. Your hair and skin won't smell like an old ashtray.
Now, when you walk into your home, notice the smell of stale smoke. Clean. Open windows. Take pleasure in knowing you'll never live in that odor again. Smoking is not an option.
Week two, put cigarette money in a jar. Every day, every time you don't buy a pack put away the money not sent up in smoke. Visualize the reward. See that money building day by day.
Breathe deeply as you stride now, feeling proud. Become aware of tastes and smells as your nose and tongue clear. The acrid taste of vinegar on a salad becomes piquant. Perfume is complex p not vague. Your body heals, muscles remember how active they once were; vision actually clears, skin texture smoothes, hair reflects light.
It's said smoking causes premature wrinkles. Look in the mirror. Are you actually getting younger?
Week three. Tell everyone you know that you've quit. Tell strangers. Tell them how many hours, days, weeks, since you had a cigarette. Call the Cancer Society to request an "I QUIT" button for your lapel. Wear it!
Repeat: Smoking is not an option. The urge occurs less frequently, recedes as quickly as it comes. Resist temptation. How far you've come. How much more pleasant you are to be around. How much longer you're going to live.
You have every chance of success at this point. In the fourth or fifth week, you'll discover a whole day ended without your mind conjuring up a cigarette. Realize it's been about a month since you ingested nicotine, tar or carbon monoxide from tobacco.
It would be powerful reinforcement now to ask people around you how they felt when you were puffing poisons into their spaces. Consider what they tell you, not dwelling on the embarrassment of realizing how much harm you could have caused as a smoker, only treasuring the knowledge that you have stopped.
Congratulations! You can go all the way now, a downhill coast. A new mantra for you: "I am a non-smoker!"
