Walked on the treadmill this morning for 27 minutes and a total of 1.1 miles. I’m so out of shape that my thighs burned and my legs felt like jelly after. I’d bought some audio books from audible.com, downloaded to my ipod, and I’m hoping the storylines will distract me from the unpleasantness of the exercise.
Oh, I did some research this morning as well, because…that’s what I do.
When you read most the anti-smoking literature out there, they tell you shit like: When you quit smoking your blood pressure drops, your pulse lowers, co2 goes down, o2 goes up, sense of smell and taste gets better, and pretty soon you start farting sunshine and rainbows from your ass.
And this is all true. I’m sure. (Okay, not 100% sure, but close). But what all these sites don’t tell you is the other stuff that starts happening to your body the moment you quit. Like as your lungs start to repair, you develop a wheezing congestion in your chest that can last a couple of weeks to several months. Also, constipation or diarrhea. Unfortunately, in my case, I could go for some diarrhea right now if you want to know what side of that sorry equation I fall.
Still, I’m not giving in. At least not this second, but I’m a little disheartened that I’m not feeling all airy-fairy-merry nirvana that the “stop smoking” websites seem to point to.
Also, apparently most states have a smoking “quitline” (a play on hotline – clever, huh? whatever.) So, I thought, I’ll call these suckers, and see if they can answer some of my “Why am I not farting rainbows?” kind of questions. I stayed up until they opened (not a 24 hour hotline), and the woman that answered was pretty unsympathetic to my plight and didn’t really listen. This is a little of our conversation.
Me: “Hi, yeah, uhm, I stopped smoking 10 days ago and I’d really like to have a cigarette, and oh, yeah, are my lungs supposed to be so junky? When does that stop?”
Quitline: “Are you trying to quit smoking?”
Me: “Yeah, like I said, I stopped 10 days ago.”
Quitline: “Are you currently a smoker?”
Me: “No, yes, I don’t know what qualifies as current. I took my last drag 10 days ago! I really just want someone to answer a few questions for me. Can I talk to someone who can help?”
Quitline: “I can enroll you and set you up with one of our Quit-coaches. Are you currently enrolled in the program or would you like to enroll?”
Me: “If I was currently enrolled, I wouldn’t be talking to you. (Deep breath) Okay, so what do I need to do to enroll?”
Quitline: “I just need to go over the program with you, then get some personal information including how old are you, how long have you smoked, how many packs a day, have you tried to quit before, your name, address, social security number, and your bra and underwear sizes. It should only take half your life.” (Okay, so she said 10 minutes, but you get the picture).
—All that just to talk to a freaking quitline counselor. It’s a good thing the government doesn’t run the suicide hotlines. Needless to say, I hung up. The government already knows enough about me without having to know all the intimate details of my 31 year mission to slowly kill myself.
Yeah, that’s right, I smoked for 31 years. Did I mention that yesterday? No? Oh well. I started when I was 9 years old. Was a pack a day by the time I was 12. That’s some good parental supervision, eh? LOL. I remember when my 75 cents of lunch money would get me a pack at the corner store.
Any ways, just reporting in. I’ll keep you posted. I hope the next entry still has me smoke-free.
Renee (still taking it one second at a time)
Tagged: personal, quitting smoking, smoking cessation
