Kicking the Habit

Jon Roe suggested I tell the story of my struggle to stop smoking.

This may be a little long, but I encourage you to read it, especially if you are a smoker. You may see yourself in me.

It has been seven and a half years since I stopped smoking. If anyone had told me I would never miss the habit I would have told them they were crazy. I smoked for 51 years. Like most smokers, I tried many times to quit with no success. I believe there are addictive personalities, and if I were not addicted to nicotine, it would have been something else. I was totally out of control.

What made me quit?
During the five years before I quit, I had noticed a problem taking a satisfying deep breath from time to time. Nothing to worry about. Just one of those things. I should have paid attention. The problem occurred more and more often as those five years rolled along, but I was in denial that something was wrong.

Toward the end of March 1997 I had a panic attack (didn’t know what it was) and could not catch a deep, satisfying breath. I was hyperventilating, dizzy, and scared. I continued to light up. Don’t ask me how I ever got dressed and drove to work. I joined friends in the cafeteria for breakfast and Janine took one look at me and told me we were going to the Walk-in Medical. Next thing I know, I’m in her car and we’re off. I was diagnosed with COPD. I had no idea what COPD was. But I learned.

COPD
Chronic Obstructed Pulmonary Disease. That meant, in my case, that some areas of my lungs were no longer spongy like they should be and there was hard scarring. The good news, as bad as my symptoms seemed, the degree of scarring was small. COPD would get worse unless I stopped doing what was causing it. If I stopped smoking, then the COPD would not get worse, but it wouldn’t go away either. I pictured myself on the beaches of Cape Cod pulling an oxygen tank behind me. Totally the wrong picture of what I wanted in life. I had to change.

I started with the nicotine patch. That worked very well. When I was almost ready to stop the treatment, a new-born grandson developed problems breathing. I was so distressed I turned to my old friends, cigarettes. For the next three years I “played” with the nicotine patch. Wore it when it was not convenient to smoke; took it off hours in advance of purchasing my next pack of cigarettes.

This is where addictions get stupid. I would buy a pack, smoke maybe three to six cigarettes then, feeling guilty, would throw the rest away and slap on another patch. The patch was great for flying cross-country. Somewhere over the Rocky Mountains I would take the patch off and by the time I landed in either Los Angeles or Seattle, I was ready to smoke again.

In September of 2000, I was on Cape Cod enjoying my usual vacation, and because I was alone, I was smoking. I came down with a bad cold—had trouble breathing; then had a major panic attack (I still didn’t know what it was) complete with feelings of doom and wanting to curl up into the fetal position while lying on the floor because I was so dizzy and I knew if I passed out I would not fall off and hurt myself. I was there alone, the cottage had no phone and I had no cell phone. I thought I was going to die! I was scared.

When I got home I had some decisions to make. Did I want to quit smoking or did I want to die? To someone who has never been addicted, the choice is clear. No so to the addict. I enjoyed smoking. I loved everything about it. However, I decided I loved life more.

I had tried cold turkey, the patch, hypnosis, and gum. Nothing worked.

I had one option left—acupuncture.
Fortunately I knew someone who was an Acupuncturist – John Mammone in Wethersfield. I have known John for years, trusted him completely, and finally called him in November of 2000. John outlined a series of six treatments (two per week for three weeks). And so we began.

I am terrified of needles yet I did not mind the acupuncture needles at all. I barely felt them. I was cigarette-free from the very first treatment. For treatment #5, I came from work and had been having a very bad day. I told John I had people needling me all day and the last thing I wanted was him sticking me with more! He suggested we do some acupressure and other hands-on healing modalities instead. We did that for the last two treatments.

I have been smoke free ever since. I do not crave cigarettes. I cannot conjure up in my mind a scenario where I would light up a cigarette never mind inhale. It’s been so long that I don’t even have “smoking dreams” any more. I still like the smell of someone else’s newly lit cigarette, but it does not make we want one. A home or car where smoking is permitted is offensive to me. Smelling cigarettes on someone’s breath makes me wonder how others put up with me when my breath must have been just as stinky.

At the beginning of this story I made a statement about addictive personalities. You might be wondering what I turned my attention to in order to stay addicted to something. I have to confess that I am addicted to: bike riding, hiking, and writing – I maintain two on-line journals, write to five fine young men in the Marine Corps., write poetry as well as stories and articles.

In September of this year, my daughter Kathy and I are going to bike ride the Erie Canal from Niagara Falls to Albany, NY— a nine-day, 365 mile ride.

That’s going to be a lot more fun than being dead!