I've informed many of you what's happening in my life right now. For those of you who might not have gotten the news, the stage 0 breast cancer I had in 2005 which was really a big nothing has returned with a vengeance. This time it has presented itself in a lump and also in a lymph node. This is what I know at this moment. I will need a radical mastectomy (both tits) , reconstruction (new tits) and then chemotherapy. Both surgeries can be done at the same time with one really important caveat. I MUST QUIT SMOKING. And I MUST DISPLAY ENTHUSIASM ABOUT QUITTING SMOKING TO THE RECONSTRUCTION SURGEON or he will not accept me as a patient. Okey dokey. Word heard. I could just ignore the reconstruction and wake up totally mutilated. Ehhh..not an option I'm afraid. I'm just too vain. But giving up my long white buddies? The friends I have purchased for 31 years? The stinking thing I really happen to like sucking on must go away? WOW. Those of you who have never had a smoking addiction have no clue how difficult this is. Those of you who have quit and badger me also have no clue about my fondness for the action of smoking a cigarette, the rituals built around the action, the day to day usage which has (in my mind) helped keep me sane. Or has made me insane when I could not conveniently have access to them. So instead of a puff, I take a deep breath and try to describe how and why I got here in the first place.
I didn't start out smoking cigarettes. I hated them. My mother smoked for years. I got a burning cherry stuck inside my nose when I jumped on her lap the wrong way when I was about 5. You'd think that would foster my distaste at an early age. the stank permeated our clothes, the house, the cars, everything. Then she just suddenly quit. She said she stopped inhaling and just went from there. (not an option for me, sadly) I tried one of her leftover cigs when I was 14 and it was miserable. Yes I had the predictable coughing fit and subsequent green face, and it didn't help that the pack was probably pretty stale by then. But there was something much more interesting to smoke...pot. And I could do that.
And so it went. I smoked pot occasionally with my friends. The old pot was pretty low grade, mostly shake and seeds, as compared to the "super pot" on the market now. We'd smoke a couple of joints and get silly. We'd walk around the neighborhood and just zone out. It wasn't a regular thing, I never went to school high or sold it. When I was 16 I started hanging with a different bunch from high school. If there was pot, that was the first choice of smoking. But they smoked cigarettes too. Long menthols which were cool going down, not chokey at all. I'd get a head rush from them. I would bum cigs whenever I got together with these folks until I realized I should contribute and I then bought my first pack, Benson & Hedges Menthol 100's. They cost 65 cents. And now is where I start to sound like an old 60's educational film: It didn't take long to get me hooked. Maybe a week. I remember very clearly standing at a bus stop in Westwood, lighting up a cigarette, taking a puff and not getting the head rush anymore. I thought to myself, I'm addicted to cigarette smoking. I'm really gonna regret this one day. But our teenage selves are immortal! Who the hell cares about the future? Cig smoking made me new friends in the girl's bathroom at school. I chatted with all kinds of lively people over years and years of dead butts. I don't even want to think about how many I've smoked over the years. It's too terrifying.
So today is THAT day I predicted at that Westwood bus stop. Not that cigarettes are the direct cause of my cancer. I have a genetic pre-disposition to breast and ovarian cancer. I certainly don't imagine it helped. And there are so many positive reasons to quit especially in these p.c. days, where even one whiff of cig smoke could cause someone to cough exaggeratedly before they get into their polluter car as response to my bad habit. Plus being a smoker pretty much bans me from just about everywhere, including open spaces like Central Park, or the sidewalks of town, even friggin bars. AND I got stink eye in Vegas casinos too... and it's still legal to smoke THERE. Needless to say the cost. They are a lot more expensive than the originally affordable 65 cents a pack, even if I order online from the Indian Reservation in Seneca NY. Man, if I could have all that cig dough back... Oh, I'm not even gonna go there. Regrets are for losers.
I've got 4 cigs left. What to do afterwards? I'm fidgety with my hands. My husband made the predictable tawdry response (men!) Knit? (I suck at that) Clay?(Even worse in Art School) Write more?(fiction? seriously?) Photoshop? I don't really suck at that, perhaps I will do more of that. I must find another way to reward myself. Cigarettes played a very important part in placation. I would do a job and when I deemed it completed, I had a smoke. Should I employ a masseur to be readily on hand? Smoking was also a good boredom chaser. If I was in a situation that was just way too dull, a cig would at least give me something to do. I suppose I should learn to use my new phone camera photo apps better. There are a lotta "shoulds" involved here. "Shoulda coulda woulda" Loser words, too.
I figure if legendary filmmaker and die-hard smoker Jon Waters could quit, anyone can. He was a major chainer. He wrote about how nasty he realised smoking was after he stopped doing it. I'd really like to get to that place. Not that I want to be an asshole to smokers. I hate THOSE people, the ones who used to smoke and now get all up into people who still do, big hypocrites. I just don't want to "like" it anymore. In contemporary TV and film it's always so easy to tell who the villain or the drunk is...it's the smoker. I don't want to be categorised as evil because I have a nasty habit. And I'm awfully tired of standing outside of wherever, whenever, in the elements, missing out on everything, all just because I need to smoke a freaking cigarette. So, long white friend who really is not my friend, was never designed to be my real friend, just a fake friend who wants to suck money and life out of me, consider our relationship OVER. Because I want new tits. (After I finish my last 4.)
I didn't start out smoking cigarettes. I hated them. My mother smoked for years. I got a burning cherry stuck inside my nose when I jumped on her lap the wrong way when I was about 5. You'd think that would foster my distaste at an early age. the stank permeated our clothes, the house, the cars, everything. Then she just suddenly quit. She said she stopped inhaling and just went from there. (not an option for me, sadly) I tried one of her leftover cigs when I was 14 and it was miserable. Yes I had the predictable coughing fit and subsequent green face, and it didn't help that the pack was probably pretty stale by then. But there was something much more interesting to smoke...pot. And I could do that.
And so it went. I smoked pot occasionally with my friends. The old pot was pretty low grade, mostly shake and seeds, as compared to the "super pot" on the market now. We'd smoke a couple of joints and get silly. We'd walk around the neighborhood and just zone out. It wasn't a regular thing, I never went to school high or sold it. When I was 16 I started hanging with a different bunch from high school. If there was pot, that was the first choice of smoking. But they smoked cigarettes too. Long menthols which were cool going down, not chokey at all. I'd get a head rush from them. I would bum cigs whenever I got together with these folks until I realized I should contribute and I then bought my first pack, Benson & Hedges Menthol 100's. They cost 65 cents. And now is where I start to sound like an old 60's educational film: It didn't take long to get me hooked. Maybe a week. I remember very clearly standing at a bus stop in Westwood, lighting up a cigarette, taking a puff and not getting the head rush anymore. I thought to myself, I'm addicted to cigarette smoking. I'm really gonna regret this one day. But our teenage selves are immortal! Who the hell cares about the future? Cig smoking made me new friends in the girl's bathroom at school. I chatted with all kinds of lively people over years and years of dead butts. I don't even want to think about how many I've smoked over the years. It's too terrifying.
So today is THAT day I predicted at that Westwood bus stop. Not that cigarettes are the direct cause of my cancer. I have a genetic pre-disposition to breast and ovarian cancer. I certainly don't imagine it helped. And there are so many positive reasons to quit especially in these p.c. days, where even one whiff of cig smoke could cause someone to cough exaggeratedly before they get into their polluter car as response to my bad habit. Plus being a smoker pretty much bans me from just about everywhere, including open spaces like Central Park, or the sidewalks of town, even friggin bars. AND I got stink eye in Vegas casinos too... and it's still legal to smoke THERE. Needless to say the cost. They are a lot more expensive than the originally affordable 65 cents a pack, even if I order online from the Indian Reservation in Seneca NY. Man, if I could have all that cig dough back... Oh, I'm not even gonna go there. Regrets are for losers.
I've got 4 cigs left. What to do afterwards? I'm fidgety with my hands. My husband made the predictable tawdry response (men!) Knit? (I suck at that) Clay?(Even worse in Art School) Write more?(fiction? seriously?) Photoshop? I don't really suck at that, perhaps I will do more of that. I must find another way to reward myself. Cigarettes played a very important part in placation. I would do a job and when I deemed it completed, I had a smoke. Should I employ a masseur to be readily on hand? Smoking was also a good boredom chaser. If I was in a situation that was just way too dull, a cig would at least give me something to do. I suppose I should learn to use my new phone camera photo apps better. There are a lotta "shoulds" involved here. "Shoulda coulda woulda" Loser words, too.
I figure if legendary filmmaker and die-hard smoker Jon Waters could quit, anyone can. He was a major chainer. He wrote about how nasty he realised smoking was after he stopped doing it. I'd really like to get to that place. Not that I want to be an asshole to smokers. I hate THOSE people, the ones who used to smoke and now get all up into people who still do, big hypocrites. I just don't want to "like" it anymore. In contemporary TV and film it's always so easy to tell who the villain or the drunk is...it's the smoker. I don't want to be categorised as evil because I have a nasty habit. And I'm awfully tired of standing outside of wherever, whenever, in the elements, missing out on everything, all just because I need to smoke a freaking cigarette. So, long white friend who really is not my friend, was never designed to be my real friend, just a fake friend who wants to suck money and life out of me, consider our relationship OVER. Because I want new tits. (After I finish my last 4.)
you inspire me
ReplyDeleteTittys much more important than ciggys. Yes, definitely end the affair. And kick cancer's ass while your at it; you've got much more important things to live and give to the world. Sending positive energy and hoping you'll consider non-standard support through your therapy. It can make the journey a little less rugged.
ReplyDeleteDeep Nutrition: Why Your Genes Need Traditional Food
ReplyDeleteby Catherine Shanahan MD. and Luke Shanahan
Genes can be turned on or off according to what you feed or don't feed your body (read: cancer genes can be turned on or off). If you don't want to read this right now, get someone who loves you, to. I think they/You'll be pleasantly surprised ~ like I was.