Tomorrow is a day of celebration....

... and for me it's a 'biggie'....

On June 10, 2009, at 10:12 in the morning, it will be exactly three years since I put out my last cigarette and became smoke free.

"What's the big deal with that" you say? For some, I'd imagine for non-smokers especially, or perhaps recreational smokers who have never experienced the challenge of quitting, it doesn't measure up as a day to remember, let alone celebrate, with such passion. Those of you, however, who know me well; know how addicted I was, and how much I wanted to quit but simply couldn't jump over that hurdle ~ understand what this day means to me.... One such person is my sister and another, my mother, and most especially, my daughter. Although none of them were ever addicted to 'the weed', they did however see me struggle time and time again.

One such occasion which is deeply ingrained in my memory bank is a scene that played out in a hotel room I shared with my daughter in Liverpool during the first week of April, 1995. She and I were in the UK as she had qualified for the World's Irish Dancing Championships. Leading up to the Feis, my parents treated us to a five day bus tour of England and Scotland. Five months prior to that, I had quit smoking.

It took perhaps three days after landing in England, for me to break down and start smoking. At that time smoking was very prevalent and in every pub and bar, on every street corner. As clear as day is the memory of my 16 year old daughter looking at me that early evening in our Liverpool hotel room, begging me to stop, telling me she loved me and that she didn't want me to die..... yet the weed won... I tried to overcome it but once the mental tape started playing over and over in my brain, it was a fight I ultimately lost. I doubt I will ever be able to erase the guilt I still feel about letting her down.

My next leap to smoke-freedom was in 1997, in the late Spring, the year my daughter graduated from high school. I was doing really well, too, until I heard of a serious car crash resulting in at least one death. The occupants were friends of my daughter's, and she and her best friend had been invited to go with them.... This was one week before my daughter's Grad Party... The next day she and her best friend drove to a holiday destination 75 miles or so away, for an after-grad weekend and shortly before arriving at their destination, they were in a car accident.... It became too much. A few days afterward I broke down and started smoking again. The date was June 5, 1997.....

I ran the gamut in my attempt at quitting. I tried cold turkey, hypnotherapy, some pill that was supposed to help with one's endorphins (resulting in me taking too many pills to try for the effect I was promised, and I become horribly sick), Quit Smoking tapes, and of course, the Nicoderm Patch (which ultimately, became my personal method of choice).

During the Spring of 2006 I was having serious marital difficulties and left my husband. A few months later, I realized that my habit was about $250 a month that could be spent more wisely .... so calmly and collectedly I decided, once again, to try. June 5th because Quit Day. I chose this day specifically because not only was it the 9 year anniversary from one of my unsuccessful stop smoking attempts, but it was also my niece's birthday, so easy to remember....

.... I was doing well too - I was determined, however on Day 3 Smokey, our most adored cat, left the yard at 7:00 a.m. and was gone ALL DAY..... I drove around the neighbourhood, I walked the streets.... no Smokey. It didn't help that the back end of the yard of the Basement Suite where I was living abutted the power lines in a mountainous residential region and that bears had been spotted coming down from above in the area.... nor that I had recently seen bear droppings in the driveway where my car normally sat....

At around 4:00 p.m. I tore off the patch. It is recommended two hours pass after removing the patch before having a cigarette. I spent the next two hours tensely waiting for the time to pass and then hopped in my car to head to the 7-11 a few blocks away to buy a package of cigarettes.... Dang, but wouldn't you know it ~ I was so desperate I lit one up the moment I got out of the store and into my car...... Can I say I enjoyed it? No, I don't think I did, at least I don't remember enjoying it.... what I do remember, however, is mentally beating myself up for backing down, yet again.... I drove home, feeling defeated, and who do you think was waiting by the door to be let inside.... Smokey, of course.

I smoked that package of cigarettes like my life depended on it - and before anyone thinks "why didn't you just throw them away" - I don't have an answer for that; I just knew I would not have 'got it out of my system', psychologically, if I had simply thrown them away. I had to finish them. It was a ritual I had to go through. At exactly 10:12 a.m. on June 10th I stubbed out that 20th cigarette from the very last package, and I became smoke free.

Throughout the Spring and especially into July and the rest of the year, my husband and I worked on our differences and in fact, I started spending weekends with him. We had our ups and downs but most importantly, we learned how to communicate with each other. As well, both of us attended counselling separately. We were committed.

Throughout this entire period every time there was a stressful event, I worked through it without reaching for a cigarette. This, more than anything, became my strength because each time I resisted, each time I resolved an issue and did not 'need' a cigarette to accomplish it, was reinforcement in my mind that I no longer needed a cigarette to survive. I cannot over-emphasize how important this became for me. It was validation ~ desperately-needed validation ~ that I did not need cigarettes to navigate life's obstacle course.

I 'grew' self-respect. My self-respect started as a seedling and with each occasion I resisted a cigarette, it continued to grow until it became a tree in my garden. I watered it faithfully until finally it became so strong it was like a tree in the forest which could fend for itself.

Erased from my memory bank were the stress triggers that when activated, resulted in me 'needing a cigarette'. That is why I no longer need to water my tree and except for special occasions, like tomorrow, I rarely even acknowledge it. It's no longer necessary.

Never before, in all my attempts at quitting smoking, did I ever feel like it had never happened; like I had never smoked. Yet that is how I feel. I have endured serious pain since Christmas and in six days I am facing a fairly significant surgery yet the thought of smoking a cigarette does not even enter my mind. I can be around smokers and there is not even a link in my mind that says "oh, you used to do that".... it is like that part of my memory bank has been erased. It holds absolutely no importance for me. I do not feed it. I do not acknowledge it, therefore it is not. Except on anniversaries ~ then I remember ~ and celebrate.

Yesterday, as part of the preparation for next Monday's surgery, I had an appointment with an internist/respiratory specialist. After taking my medical history I was given an ECG as well as a test to rate my lung capacity. To say I am pleased does not begin to describe how fortunate I felt yesterday when I learned that my lungs have exceeded what the norm is for someone who has been 3 years free from smoking. In fact, I was rated just slightly below the norm of individuals who have never smoked. My heart is perfect and after the breathing tests performed by his assistant, the physician listened to my heart, my lungs and my carotid artery. All are fine and he specifically said my lungs are clear. I abused my lungs for 37 years and I feel humbly grateful to my body for not punishing me for my stupidity and abuse.

I have a very bad left hip - severe arthropathy with complete destruction of the cartilage, (so indicate recent x-rays)... but the silver lining is that because of it I had to have tests done to ensure I was physically able to withstand the surgery. In so doing, I now know that my ticker is good and (hopefully) I am in the clear when it comes to my poor lungs..... I so love life's silver linings.....

Thanks for listening.