I stopped and lifted my balls
That got your attention - right? This is a smoky tale.
A few stories ago I was languishing in a hospital bed gasping for breath and praying for strong drugs to take away the pain. Today, I’m in a much better place, on light doses of pain relief and breathing what I assume to be (almost) normally. I’m not 100% pain free but that’s mostly a night time issue. And…I’ve not smoked a cigarette or had any alcohol for over a month. I just stopped both ‘activities.’
Why say ‘stop’ instead of ‘quit’ or ‘gave up?’ The semantic choice is important because it helps frame how this works for me. You see, I never intended to stop smoking or having a few beers until I stopped. There was no conscious decision, no angst, no cajoling by others. I just stopped. I know this because as regards smoking, I’ve never had a desire to stop, never felt particularly bad about the practice and ignored anyone, family included, who hinted, suggested or otherwise ‘encouraged’ me to stop smoking. Why? Because I love smoking. I’m not so keen on the cleaning up fag ash bit but I’m pretty much good with everything else about smoking and the rituals that go with it. Or at least I was until I wasn’t. And that’s after 55 years non-stop.
My cigarette consumption was something I obsessed over and saw as related to the degree of stress which I was under. At some points in the past, I was smoking up to three packs plus a day. As I hit retirement I dropped down to a regular two packs a day and, until recently, down to a pack and a half. On a ‘good’ day I’d be down to a single pack or slightly less. Put me in front of a few beers and I’d be easily back up to two packs.
Booze is a different story but as you might discern from the above, for me, they’re intimately linked. If one was going then they both had to go. This may sound nutty. After all, there are plenty of people who drink but don’t smoke why not me? I’m guessing it’s possible but I don’t want to find out. Tempting fate isn’t something I find particularly alluring.
Some might call this sudden change a positive and welcome side effect of having ended up in the hospital. It certainly pleases my immediate family. I see it as an unexpected set of life changing events that were almost predictable based on things that happen in my life at regular intervals and which lead to significant changes in direction.
How did it happen that suddenly, I stopped? I’ve always known that pain is a great motivator. In corporate life, it contributed towards saving IBM and Apple. In my personal life it stopped me smoking and drinking. When your attention is focused on pain free breathing, taking a piss without nursing assistance and being able to sit up to eat, cigs and booze are the last things on your mind. And so it was for a number of days. Those days stretched to a week and now to just over a month. For this committed addict, it is a curious achievement. But it’s also so much more.
As part of my recovery, I was given some breathing exercises using a Tri-Ball Respiratory Exerciser. It’s an inexpensive device designed to help improve breathing. On first use, I was barely able to lift one of the balls. By the time I was discharged from hospital, I could lift two balls a couple of times. Two weeks later, I could lift two balls five times in succession. A couple of days ago, I managed to lift all three balls. Twice. That was a surprise as I’d been told by my respiratory specialist that few people regain enough strength to lift all three balls but that is secondary to learning a healthy way of breathing and, in my case, working towards clearing my lungs of pneumonia related gunk. Today, I can lift three balls twice and get some movement out of the third ball on the third occasion. Who knows where I’ll be in the ball lifting stake next week?
The last week, I walked back from our local convenience store with a small bag of groceries without stopping to catch my breath. This is a big deal. The store is about 300 meters away, down a hill from our home. While the incline is not a long stretch, the first 100 meters can be brutal, especially if the wind is blowing down from the moors above our house. Prior to going into the hospital, I’d do most anything to avoid taking that short trip. As for accompanying my partner on a dog walk? Forget it. A couple of days ago I managed a slow, steady stroll for an hour with the two of them and without feeling like I needed a recovery period. Yes, my back and chest ache but it’s not unbearable.
While I knew that smoking wasn’t helping, I didn’t fully appreciate or perhaps was prepared to admit just how much impact it was having. The same goes for coughing. While in the hospital, the staff wanted me to cough up the gunk from my lungs. It was the last thing I wanted to do as it was excruciatingly painful. Eventually, I was able to cough a couple of times a day before the pain became too great to continue. I haven’t coughed involuntarily for several weeks. It feels strange. On a recent call, my brother remarked that I didn’t cough once. He noticed. Last week, one of my daughters brought me a packet of Tunnocks Teacakes for going a month without smoking. I was touched by that wee act of recognition.
Where is all this going? That’s hard to know. Here are some thoughts.
While stopping smoking has been much easier than I have been led to believe, I get occasional waves of longing for a nicotine hit. I’m told that’s to be expected at this stage but it’s easy enough for me to get over it. A cup of tea usually does the trick. I know enough to know that it isn’t a physical craving per se but a mental issue that translates into a physical urge. Some argue that vaping is the answer. I know it’s not because cigarette smoking is a lot more than just the nicotine thing and vaping only serves to put me on the road to cigarettes. Most of the addiction to cigarettes (because that is what it is), is in the mind that to non-smokers appears irrational yet to the smoker makes perfect sense. That’s one of the great mysteries of addiction and a reason why psychologists haven’t come up with a single formula for treating addiction in all cases.
In my current state, I’m reminded that the mind is exceedingly good at playing tricks on and with us. We readily confuse intelligence with rationality and then wonder why otherwise bright people do (apparently) dumb things. What we fail to see is that one person’s insanity is another person’s rationality. This works for good and ill. There are so many examples of things that we take for granted today but which when they were first conceived seemed mad. Equally, there are things we do that we believe to be OK but which turn out to be really bad. I could and have rationalized smoking on the basis that I’m 70, I’m still here, I enjoy smoking and in any event we all die at some point. So why not continue doing something from which I derive considerable pleasure?
That way of looking at the world is incredibly selfish when seen from the point of view that smoking is shortening my life and that other people might want me to hang around a bit longer. The rational mind asks - but is that true and if not then one more cigarette can’t do any harm? Except it can, and realizing that at both an emotional and intellectual level takes an enormous effort. But once that realization sinks in, then other things come into view. The simple pleasure of getting out and meeting random people while walking a dog is not to be under estimated. Taking a leisurely stroll around grocery isles need not be a chore. The prospect of pottering in a veg plot is something to anticipate with joy. Knowing that I’m not imposing a bad habit on others removes a pressure I’d forgotten exists and has its own rewards. For me, it is these simple pleasures, or rather the ability to have them in my life that motivates me to keep on this path of stopping. I’ll never know if it means one more hour, day, week, month or year of life but that is not important to me and, I suspect to those around me. What’s more important is the quality of time spent in those relationships.
In the meantime I look forward to seeing my dentist. He’s been giving me grief about smoking for several years. It will be interesting to see his expression when I tell him what’s recently happened. That will provide a prurient pleasure, so yes. I’m still impish and mischievous.
P.S. - I’ve got a long way to go before I can confidently say that smoking is behind me but as always in life, it’s one day at a time. And I’m OK with that.
Good for you! I still miss smoking, but it does get easier with practice :)