How tragic! Yesterday in the grocery store parking lot, I saw someone with a portable oxygen tank...

[peggysue2]

32. The first time I quit (and yes, it took several attempts) . . .

my youngest son was put into the hospital for bronchial pneumonia. He was seven years old. The doctors told me it was aggravated by my smoking. Quit on a dime, only to have numerous backslides. However, I never smoked inside the house again.

It's been over thirty years now that I quit for good. I think the biggest thing for smokers is the return of taste and smell, particularly smell (at least for me). Generally, smokers do not smell the stink of the cigarette. Until they quit.

I recall walking into our small library after quitting for several months and rubbing shoulders with a woman who smelled literally like an ashtray. It's a hard reality to accept because all those years I'd been casting off the same odor. For those who are particular about their homes? Cigarette smoke permeates everything--your drapes, linens, mattresses, rugs, etc.--and leaves a yellowish film on windows and mirrors and all kinds of surfaces.

My mother was a chain smoker. When she reached a certain age, she was unable to keep up with housecleaning though she insisted she was cleaning day and night. I took a stab at her kitchen windows one morning and was thoroughly grossed out with the orange film all over the glass; it ran in rivulets as soon as I sprayed the surface with glass cleaner. She, of course, was totally unaware of the windows or the dingy wallpaper also covered in that nasty film.

That being said, my mother smoked nearly to the end of a very long life (almost 92). And she had numerous breathing difficulties which made the last few years a misery. Yet after all that time, she just couldn't/wouldn't quit. She was very stubborn, LOL.

So, the lesson for me is the sooner you can quit, the better. It's bad enough struggling with the normal infirmities of aging without struggling for every breath the way my mother ultimately did.