MindGraph wrote:
Thanks R2 for the post. Haven't pm'd you in a bit about it cause I know your trying to find a place for everything but think about you alot. You've actually been an inspiration to me to quit smoking. This tuesday my wife and I are going to the doctor together to get the Chantix perscription. I'm ready and I've been fortunate that smoking hasn't affected me physically with the exception of I notice a shortness of breath lately when I'm out running around and god knows what it could be doing inside but before I thought about things you've said in the past and had some bad dreams in between and I want to get it stopped while I still have my health.
I think your doing great with what is on your plate and I do wish you and your family the best.
Enjoy that bike man! It's a great out. I'm going up to the lake today with the jeep for the same reason.
Hang tough bud and enjoy today!
Do quit.
In the last five years of my mom's life I watched her health deteriorate. No longer could she walk up a small hill without being out of breath. And in the ensuing years when we talked by phone it was the coughing and hacking which dominated the conversation. Then one night a phone call from my step-dad to tell me she'd suffered a stroke.
I flew in to see her in the hospital, curled up in a fetal position, crying like a lost child. The stroke left her weak, unable to write or follow simple conversations, yet it also made her forget that she smoked. We both had a good laugh and cry that after 40+ years it took a debilitating stroke to cause her to kick the deadly habit.
I stayed for a month to comfort her, make her laugh, help her buy a new bra, relearn the ABC's, and many other tasks related to caring for a small child in an adult's body. At the end of four weeks I had to get back to my family. I hugged and kissed my mother goodbye. Deep down we both knew it would probably be the last time we saw each other.
We spoke on the phone several times after I'd returned home. A couple weeks passed before an emergency room doctor called to say she'd been readmitted to the hospital after having suffered another stroke. She wasn't expected to live. I flew back to see her. I spoke my last words to her while she held and squeezed my hand. The decision was made to remove her from life support. Over the next four hours I literally watched my mother drown from fluid buildup in her lungs. I'll never forget the sound of her breathing as her body struggled to keep her alive. Nor will I ever forget that split second of silence at the moment she died at the young age of 61.
I guess I'm spilling my guts because I'm hoping my extremely abbreviated version of the events leading up to my mother's death will cause you or anyone else reading this post to take the necessary steps to kick the nicotine fiend.