Jumping up and down here!

Today is the 16th anniversary of quitting smoking, a day I always set aside to treat myself really well. That usually translates into spending money, but I never hesitate, because I am saving so very much money here by not smoking. Have you seen how much cigarettes cost these days? Back when they were less pricey I had the brilliant idea of spending the equivalent of a year's smoking on myself, until I figured out it would cost me over $2,000 to do that. Now it would be over $3,200, and that's if I bought them at Costco where they are "reasonable". June 2, 1989 was not the first time I quit, there had been 4 previous attempts lasting more than 6 months each, one was 2 1/2 years. But it was the last time. I was done. My chest hurt all the time like a buffalo was sitting on it, and my insides just felt flayed. I never complained because I was well aware this was self-imposed pain. I felt enslaved by this habit. It dictated where I could work, where I went (not the movies, you couldn't smoke there any more), who I hung around with. It was dirty and expensive even then. So I sought help through my doctor, who gave me a patch, not nicotine, they weren't available then, but a drug used to help heroin addicts through withdrawal. Then I targeted my day, burned the last of my Benson & Hedges 100's in the fireplace at midnight, took a week off of work, and suffered for a few days. The physical stuff was easy. It was the psychological addiction that lingered and made me nutso for the next few months. The phone would ring in my office, I would reach for it with one hand and for a cigarette with the other. The grief I would feel in that moment was all-consuming. It took a while to really let go, and now I occasionally still dream of smoking. Well, I did it from age 18 till 45, with little intermitent vacations here and there, usually prompted by a bout of pneumonia. I have not had pneumonia in the last 16 years. No bronchitis, either. In fact, knock on wood, I enjoy really good lung health. I can feel the lasting effects, though, when I hiked up our hill in Jenner, in the shortness of breath that never went away even as I grew physically accustomed to the effort. In the last few years, I have seen many people die as a result of their smoking and I am so grateful for my once-again pink lungs. I think that is worth a trip to the mall for some summer sandals (more shoes), and a 20 ounce latte and croissant sandwich, to boot.