Dawg's Quit Story

"I hated cigarettes growing up, and I hate them now."

I hated cigarettes growing up. They kept my dad from playing football, or basketball, or tennis, or any of the things I liked to do. My mom smoked when I was born, but shortly after that, she just quit. Just decided one day that they couldn't be good for her and quit(this was way before we had all of the scientific evidence we have today).

I'll never forget being twelve, and being a pretty darned good tennis player. My dad, who had played in college, decided he would go play with me one night. I think this was the night he convinced himself he was old, and could no longer do anything physical. We only played for about thirty minutes(no time to a twelve year old who plays tennis with anyone that will pick up a racket against him every day). Afterwards, dad put the racket in the car, lit a cigarette, and said hew would never play me again. He was too old. Oh, I begged him, I told him he could get it back, it would just take time. But that night was our first and last time playing.

Dad died at the age of 54 of a massive heart attack. He had suffered with emphysema for four years and smoked until the day he died. I was 18.

We found out my brother had leukemia on my 16th birthday. He had gone into the hospital for tests after my mama saw some bruises on his legs. He was a skydiver, and was used to bruises from opening shock, but these were a really bad color. The tests finally indicated chronic myelogenous leukemia. Subsequent tests showed that I was a perfect match as a bone marrow donor and after four years of battling with chemotherapy, remission, going out of remission, more chemotherapy, college, girlfriends, me learning to skydive with my older brother, going to skydiving meets etc.,(my dad died in the middle) we admitted Ed into Duke University Medical Center for the last time. We tried the bone marrow transplant, but in killing the bad bone marrow to introduce the good, the radiation killed too much of him and he died three weeks later. I held one hand and mom held the other.My other brother and my sister were in the room with several other friends, but mom and I had spent the last 6 weeks at the hospital with him, so this just felt appropriate. He was 24, and I was twenty.

Shortly after my 21st birthday, I quit college and started smoking cigarettes. I had gone through 6 months of insomnia, lying awake for what seemed like weeks at a time. By the time I came out of it, I didn't care if I lived or died. I remember Mom chastising me for starting smoking so "late" in life, and I calmly answered that I wanted and expected to be the next one to die, because I couldn't handle any more hurt(my poor Mama had just lost her husband and one son, and another son is telling her this...how selfish was I?).

Over the next 10 years, I smoked, got married, joined the Army, got out of the Army and graduated college. I only even thought about quitting smoking once and that lasted about 4 hours. Finally, my wife at the time and I were going through counseling and we decided to quit. We kind of made it contingent on our marriage lasting, and looking back, it was easy for both of us. We wanted our marriage to work. That quit lasted 11 months, and then we decided to smoke one pack and put them back down. That was 10 years ago.

Since that time I've smoked, had several jobs, gotten divorced, gotten remarried, and tried to quit on several occasions. I've seen my resting heart rate go from almost athletic mid 60s to high 90s. I have high blood pressure, just like my dad, and all the signs are pointing that if I keep going, I will do just as I told my mom twenty-one years ago. But I also, finally forgave myself for letting Ed die and decided I want to live after all.

When I told my mom that I was quitting smoking after three weeks quit, and that I had found this forum, and that I really believed I could do it this time, she started crying. She's seventy-one, and I think she is still worried that she will outlive me if I don't quit, and she probably will. But you know what, one of the things that the last twenty years has taught me is that you shouldn't outlive your children, and part of living is hurting when people you love die. I want to outlive my mom. I've got lots of reasons to live now, but it would be enough if the only reasons were that mama shouldn't have to watch another child die, and because I want to be able to hold her hand in mine when she really needs me to.

I hated cigarettes growing up, and I hate them now.

~dawg~
(Junkyarddawg)

Dawg's One Month Milestone
Dawg's Two Month Milestone
<sub>Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they’re yours. Richard Bach, Illusions

May your day be filled with enough challenges to make you strong, enough failures to make you humble, enough success to make you believe in yourself, and enough love to make you believe in others.</sub>