Time to Confess My Bad Habit: Smoking
I have a confession to make. I know this will make some people label me as the lowest of the low, but I have to spill the beans. I was a smoker for 14 years.
I started at 14, just one of those rebellious things. When some of my friends eventually gave up the habit by 15 or 16, I stuck with it. At one point, I was up to two or three packs a day during one long summer. We would just all hang out and chain smoke all day and then get up and do it again the next day.
My parents knew (my father was none too pleased), but they didn't give me tons of grief about it. My mom had smoked for years. In fact, that may be one of my earliest memories of her. It is very true that children of smokers tend to smoke themselves.
The fact I smoked became part of my identity. I was many things: happy, funny, nice, creative, clumsy, a smoker. It was just a part of me. It never was a problem until RT school.
I had several classmates who smoked too. We would all head outside at the slightest hint of a break. One of our instructors would stand just inside the door and from time to time yell out little tidbits to us: "You know you're killing yourselves." Or maybe his classic line: "You keep that up and it's job security for the rest of us."
I never let any of his words actually penetrate into my stubborn head. I just laughed it off and kept puffing.
It was difficult when I went to clinicals as a smoker, but even harder when I graduated and started my professional life. There were several of us RTs who smoked. It wasn't too bad...until they all had the night off and I was the only one working.
People came out of the woodwork to make comments about my dirty little secret. All of that well-meaning "information" just made me all the more determined to light up.
Time came and went, and our campus went entirely smoke-free. There were talks of punishments ranging from a ticket to termination for getting caught. I think I lasted a week wearing the patch at work before I would take the patch off and sneak a quick smoke. Soon I was taking that stupid patch off four or five times a night to "just get a little fix."
Eventually I gave up the patch idea and just hid and smoked. Then I moved out to the open. I knew every spot to go, every security guard who was sympathetic, and every charge person who would get mad or be cool with my repeated breaks.
I always got my work done and never took a lunch break to make up for my time away from the unit, but it had to have gotten old to my co-workers.
It wasn't that I hadn't tried to quit. I tried gum, the patch, an inhaler, cold-turkey, yadda, yadda, yadda. If it was out there, I gave it a try at least once. I truly did enjoy smoking; but eventually all the bad aspects to it would catch up with me and I'd try to quit again. It never worked because I never really wanted to quit.
Everything changed July 20. I was trying Chantix for the second time...and it worked. Little did I know I was already a few days pregnant. I really do believe finding that out is what has kept me on the non-smoker path.
I may have slipped back into smoking, but wanting to keep my baby healthy has done the trick in keeping me motivated to stay smoke-free. Sure there are days I want one or see someone with one and miss it, but I think my days as a smoker may well be over!
How do you all feel about that story? Had any experience on either side of the fence that you want to share? I would love to hear from both sides. Until next time!