Yes, guilty as charged, I’ve been here before. But, here I go again… cold turkey for the very last time.
Maybe you read my diaries about my short-lived attempt to give up my lifelong nicotine addiction in 2022.
Back then, when I caved in on Day 15, I abruptly stopped writing with no explanation. But I think everyone knew that my two weeks' of withdrawal symptoms had gone down the drain in a puff of smoke.
When I last posted about the hell of giving up, I wrote: “Some lusts are stronger than others. And my lust to kick the habit is still standing strong.”
Famous last words.
That was in February 2022 – more than three years ago – and here I am again: sharing my battle to kick the habit in the butt – pun intended.
I really thought my failed attempt in 2022 was my last shot at giving up and I had made peace with the fact that as a die-hard smoker I am one of a dying breed – no pun intended.
But this was not to be.
This year, at the end of February, I returned from two thrilling weeks in India with a nasty cough. And it’s strange that I developed the cough over there, because - although not by choice - I actually smoked very little.
Indian people frown upon smoking and if the smoker happens to be a woman, they scowl and sneer. On top of this, I was the only real smoker in our all-female tour group of 14. I say real smoker as one or two of the ladies asked for a puff when they had enough wine.
But after almost three weeks back in George, the cough is refusing to go away.
When two extremely knowledgeable friends of mine, Dr AI and Dr Google, informed me on Saturday morning, 15 March that my specific brand of cough is indicative of the onset of emphysema, I choked on my first cigarette of the day.
I immediately had visions of travelling with an oxygen tank while people looked at me with a mix of aversion and pity as I moved my oxygen mask aside just long enough to wheezingly take a drag from a cigarette clenched between two nicotine-stained, shaking fingers.
So, I decided then and there that on Monday morning, 17 March I would once again go cold turkey. This time for keeps.
That gave me two days to finish the two packets of cigarettes in stock. As smoking 40 cigarettes in two days is a tall order, I decided to give whatever cigarettes were left to one of my colleagues who struggles to finance her habit.
Alas, the poor woman lost out as I puffed away to the very last cigarette – foolishly trying to make up for the cravings that lay ahead, and late on Sunday evening I killed off my very last cigarette.
It is now early afternoon on Day 4 and I am extremely irritable and could smoke a whole packet of cigarettes at once - box and all. Thankfully, since quitting, I have only had one-and-a-half fights with my man, so all in all, not too bad. (Then again, the fact that he is in Heidelberg, Gauteng for a national target shooting competition, helps to keep him out of my line of fire!)
It comes in 3s
They say - when it comes to nicotine cravings - Day 3, Week 3 and Month 3 are the worst. Well, I’ve made it through Day 3 by hitting the sack at 7:30pm last night when the need for a cigarette almost got out of hand (and into a car heading for the nearest garage).
But, instead I ate a sugar free chocolate and turned out the light. This time I intend to find out if withdrawal symptoms persist into YEAR 3. (If I survive this pesky cough.)
I hear red berries and rooibos are very good for the lungs.
I hope red wine as well…
