I should be able to do ANYTHING now, Part 1

During my smokerdom (smokerhood? smokership?), at many points I thought about things I thought I should be doing to improve myself. Two examples are exercising (specifically swimming) and wearing contact lenses again.

I am far from being obese. Just a bit flabby. I would say I have a "beer belly," (although I've hardly drank any beer for the last few years), "love handles," and a "hank" (the fat under the chin).

A lot of excuses led back to smoking. I didn't have the lung capacity to endure a lot of physical exercise. Swimming seemed to me to be the ideal cardiovascular workout, because you seem to use most of the muscles in your body and there is no hard impact on your bones and joints like there is in running, for example. A big part of being able to swim is to deal with the breathing limitations. It's difficult to breathe during physical exercise, and one has to concentrate to develop some sort of new breathing pattern that is in harmony with the movement. Swimming restricts the breathing even more so, since at many points in each movement the mouth and nostrils may be submerged in water, or are about to be, or at least being splashed.

I used to wear contact lenses, but over time, I weaned off of them until I wore glasses full time.

My vision is so poor that I don't qualify for the reportedly comfortable soft lenses. I was prescribed rigid gas-permeable lenses. These are smaller than the iris.

When my eyes dried up, which was often, the lens would slip off the iris and lodge itself in the corner of my eye. These tiny, concave discs would stick in areas of the eye that are flatter than the curvature of the iris, allowing the sharp edges of the lens to iritate the whites and corners of my eyes.

Painful and disorientating and therefore dangerous, as this always seemed to happen while I was driving.

This worsened as my smoking increased in frequency. In order to smoke while I drive, I had to have the windows down. Smoke and wind drying up the eyes.

Even worse, I was going to bars more often. In those days, smoking was allowed. My eyes didn't stand a chance.

My god, right now it's so difficult to imagine hanging out in a place so filled with so much smoke, and enjoy myself. Honestly, even as a chain smoking feind, I was glad when they banned smoking in bars. It's so much better to smoke in a ventilated area. I'm sure for people who live in areas where it get rains a lot, or actually snows, it might have been difficult...

Anyway, the contact lenses spent more and more time in their sensory deprivation chambers. Soon enough, they were abandoned for good, as I upgraded to more sturdy frames for my incredibly thick glasses.

I haven't posted in a while, but I feel like I would just be posting the same content as my previous entry.

The cravings are still happening. It's almost like a resurgance. It's just part of the evil plan. "You're treating with the Devil."

This would be easier to understand if I had cheated at some recent point; snuck in a cig' here, bummed a drag there. But I haven't. No nicotine in any form.

A quitter just has to keep the guard up at all times...for the remainder of life, apparently.

Still Craving!

After 5 months I still get cravings. F**king still.

A couple times a week, I'll feel an overwhelming urge to grit my teeth and smash something, during which I realize that I'm having a craving for nicotine.

A few days ago, while waiting for my lunch, I had the gnarliest craving I've had in months.

Back when I was smoking (heh), I was in the routine of clocking out for lunch and going to the roach coach to order my food. Then I would light up and be able to smoke about half the cig' before my food was ready.

To be outside was to be able to smoke. Therefore, waiting until after I ordered the food put a teasing delay on my noon nicotine. Normally I would light up as soon as daylight hit my head.

So it was there, right after ordering my food, as I still do every week day, that this craving belted me.

All I can do is inhale deeeeeeep lungs-full of air, exhale....inhale, long and deep...exhale; feeling a reminder of the improvement in my lung capacity.

The Joys of Not Smoking: Jury Duty

Well, that's not quite right. There aren't so much joys of not-smoking. There's no joy in not smoking itself.

Joy can only be derived from not smoking in contrast to smoking; or rather being a smoker.

Now, during the quitting process, not smoking is actually excruciatingly painful, while smoking is the only and direct relief from that agony. The rewards of quitting smoking are very slow in creeping in, after months of anguish, in direct opposition to the immediate rush of relief when that first suck of smoke hits the lungs.

In this period* of abstinence from smoking, I've found myself in a few situations that really make me really appreciate the fact that I quit**. I've got to savor those feeling and ingrain them, because these are some of the things that will strengthen my mind in preventing relapse.

One shining example was...jury duty.

I had jury duty recently. Although it was nice to not be at my usual dead end day job, I was lucky to only have to actually show up to the court house for one day.

My assigned courthouse was in a community where even the rat holes have burglar bars. It is a 13 storey building, with 5 out of 6 very slow elevators operational. The stairs are off limits except in emergencies, and the user does not determine what constitutes an emergency. If a stairwell is entered, there is immediate, armed response.

It's not too bad at 7:30am, but after about 2 hours, the place is packed with all kinds people, none of whom are happy to be there. Many are expressing this, and may look at you as if you are responsible.

All of these people cram in the hot elevator waiting room, waiting for one of the tortoise-drawn elevators to return from it's journey around the sun. You've got power suited lawyers; drunk/stoned, tattood gangsters; entire families bawling post-verdict; police; junkies/tweakers; average joes, etc, etc, all trying to cram in this room to get on the next elevator. Since they seem to arrive so few and far between, it is necessary to pack bodies in to each car like sardines.

Needless to say, it is something anyone can die happy without having experienced.

Now, what about smoking? Well, if you want to smoke you have to go outside. Like on the balcony? The roof? What, no smokers' lounge? Nope. The only way is to deal with the elevator situation.

I can't imagine having to deal with that every time I needed a smoke. And I constantly needed a smoke. Well, actually I can imagine it. It just would have been torture, all day long. I would either be sitting in there jonesing like hell, dreading the attendant tribulation of the elevator journey. Or actually enduring it. After finally being down and outside to smoke, with all the nice folks hanging out there; by the time I got back up to the waiting room, it will have taken so much time I will be ready for another cigarette.

As I pondered, remembered and imagined all of this, the waiting room at jury duty surpassed comfortable and approached the luxurious.

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* By this period, I refer to a time where the agony of withdrawel has subsided to a tolerable level, but I don't yet necessarily feel entirely invulnerable to relapse.

** I feel the need to clarify that when I claim to have quit nicotine, I say so with the understanding that I will be on a slippery slope for the remainder of my life. Just as an alcoholic is eternally addicted to booze, I am in danger of reverting back immediately and deeply into smoking at any time.

Update

I'm still going strong.

I'm still not taking nicotine in any form.

Go me!

Does it ever really end?

Kowalski, progress report!

It's been 3 weeks since my last nicotine lozenge (132 days since my last cigarette).

I'm still having cravings.

Does it ever really end?

They say that an alcoholic will always be an alcoholic. There is no cure; only abstinence and recovery. Is it the same for nicotine addicts?

Snus!

In reading about an overseas acquaintance of mine, I came across a brief survey.

When asked about his nasty habits, he answered, "Snus."

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Before I continue, I must digress with an aside: What the hell is a snu?

Well, snus is not the plural form of snu. Snus (which rhymes with noose, not snooze) is (not are) Swedish snuff. Camel now offers it in the U.S. as little packets, similar to the ol' Skoal Bandits. The difference with snus is that allegedly, you don't have to spit out the juice. So you can pretty much pop one between your cheek and gum anytime/anywhere and nic' up fairly unnoticed.
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He and I have some basic things in common, and my imagination fills in the gaps so that I can relate to (my perception of) his story.

We both are males of the same age with 1 child and very generally have similar lines of work, temperament, self-esteem, etc.

In continuing to weave a fictitious tale based on my personal interpretation of little factual knowledge, I would say:

He smoked cigarettes before his daughter came along. He tried to quit, and found it to be beyond his power, as most of do; especially under the stress of being a slacker/artistic type suddenly expected to transform into a bread-winning father.

Snus was right there waiting; such a simple solution! No need to go through the never ending hell of withdrawel; you don't have to quit; you just switch over to snus. No second hand smoke to damage your family's lungs with; no foul smells in the air, on your clothes, apolstery, etc. Even the disgusting constant necessity to spit out the juice into a makeshift spitoon that comes with chewing tobacco or dip is gone!

I just barely slipped past the snus trap. Just (in falsetto:) baaaaaaarely.

When I bought what was to be my final pack of cigarettes, I was given a free promotional gift by the clerk behind the mini-market counter. It was a little tin of Camel Snus. Brand new product; try it!

I was scared of it, for some reason.

I think I was afraid because I didn't know how to guage the intake/impact. I thought I might overdose on nicotine, and feel sick. I wouldn't go without a cigarette for long enough to clear my system enough to take nicotine in an additional form.

Also, I sensed (imagined) some evil about it, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It just seemed to be another way to get people addicted. With many of the stigmas associated with smoking removed through this product, tobacco companies can still thrive and reap profits in a world where smoking might actually decline.

I feel lucky I chose to quit when I did, and that I used the lozenges rather than snus. Snus arrived in my awareness at a very critical time. If I had given in to try it, I would have definitely switched over to it. To the rest of the world, I could say, "I quit smoking!" but really I just switched products.

Obviously, I did, in fact, switch products; from cigarettes to lozenges. What would be the difference if I had switched to snus instead of lozenges? Well, I believe that the lozenges contain less nicotine, but more importantly less of all the other toxic chemical additives that enhance the tobacco products making them more addictive. I think the lozenges are less addictive and therefore somewhat less difficult to quit taking.

The idea of the nicotine replacement is the same as methadone for junkies, I believe. The replacement is only supposed to be temporary. One makes` the switch in order to get off the hard stuff immediately without one's body being shocked too drastically. You are switching to a less dangerous alternative to ease the severity of withdrawel symptoms. But eventually you have to stop taking the replacement to truly be a successful quitter.