Reflections of an Ex-Smoker

At the risk of sounding smug, I report that more than a year has elapsed since I stopped smoking and I'm still clean. No mean accomplishment since statistics indicate that 75 percent of those who initially quit are smoking again within one year.

More importantly, however, I want to share the good news, and some of my perceptions, with anyone out there who really wants to quit but is fearful of the withdrawal symptoms and their consequences. It might be easier than you think.

Leaving behind 43 years of continual smoking, to say nothing of several hoarded cartons of cigarettes and boxes of the soothing balm of tobacco, unopened cigars, was not supposed to be easy. Actually, one had envisioned. Although not readily apparent, it is less traumatic to quit "cold turkey" than to cut back on the amount smoked. It is only a fantasy for a confirmed smoker to think he can control his dosage.

Fortunately, it is probable that my smoking had involved a psychological dependence more than a physical addiction, and this resulted in fewer repercussions. Somebody smoking in my presence evokes memories but does not create undue urges to light up as it had in my smoking days.

I did modify those behavior patterns that were associated with my smoking, and subtracted others: not drinking coffee or alcohol as frequently as before; making certain there were no cigarettes at hand for me to latch onto (especially near the telephone); making a special effort — when stressed — not to think about smoking; and using gum and hard candy instead of cigarettes. I carry an extra five pounds (which I might have put on in any case), but on balance I have suffered little from giving up smoking.

Conversely, I can't say that I feel a lot healthier either. I do spit less every morning, and console myself with the thought that, somehow, I must be healthier.

The righteous role of the Born Again Non-Smoker does not suit me, however. Accordingly, I have refrained assiduously from proselytizing smokers. If directed at me, I would have found such efforts to be sanctimonious, obnoxious and non-productive. Quitting may be worthwhile, but it is never entirely easy.

My primary observation about quitting is that the individual must be internally ready to do so. All of the scary health studies, nagging and social pressures are only preludes in the process whereby an inner commitment finally coincides with the generally amorphous desire to quit. There isn't a smoker alive who wouldn't rather quit than smoke, provided he got all the satisfaction of smoking without actually doing so.

As for me, I formulated that inner resolve as a result of an incident that had occurred several weeks earlier. I was driving daughter Lisa to the airport, and she refused to allow me to light up in the car. To humor her and because of my great love for her, I made no issue of it and anticipated the pleasure of grabbing a cigarette as soon as I dropped her off. When I returned to the car after her departure, I noticed a slip of paper on her vacated seat. It read as follows: "DON'T SMOKE A CIGARETTE ON THE WAY BACK."

I smiled to myself at Lisa's concern and initiative, and thought I would honor her simple request for the less than 30 minutes it would take me to drive home. But 10 minutes from the airport I succumbed and lit the darned cigarette. My conscience gave a tug at every puff. I never enjoyed a smoke less. I was filled with remorse, chagrin, self-reproach and anger.

Then and there I made my vow. My failure to heed a simple 30-minute request made out of love and solicitude by a caring daughter revealed a conspicuous lack of self-control. It was time I took charge of my own life again.

About three weeks later, on January 19, 1983, at 3:00 p.m., I smoked my last cigarette.