The writer of the article has been a life long smoker from Europe. After immigrating to the US, and being detected with asthma, nearing her middle age, she was trying to stop smoking approximately on everyday basis, but all of the attempts sadly did not succeed. Nicotine gum and patches didn't work for her, therefore she consulted her surgeon, who enrolled her in a program and prescribed medications, but that didn't her her quit smoking either. What she discovered was that a drastic change of routine worked good in her case. Something amusing approach to a very serious matter suggests that everyone have to get what works efficiently for them, as well-known "one size fits all" approach never makes everyone contented.
In the first person: I was born 40 something years ago in Europe, with a cigarette in my mouth. My parents smoked, my relatives smoked, my friends smoked. My father is 82 and still a chain smoker. Smoking is an inevitable part of cultural habits, meeting people, and having excitement. For a culture that lives on lanes full of cafes, smoking is not optional, it's almost compulsory.
I was 13 when I got addicted on cigarettes, enough to start budgeting part of my daily allowance for cigarettes. Mind you, I wasn't an outsider, a straight A learner, from a well-to-do academic family, I was really trying to fit in. At that point, and even many years later, trying to quit smoking was not even in the back of my mind. It will take me 30 more years to get to that point.
Novelist by occupation, smoking was very much a part of my daily routine. It was precisely like it used to be in the old black and white movies - me, the typewriter, and the big ashtray with the cigarette butts heaped up high. Soon after I moved to the US, the problems with my smoking ensued. They were not just of social nature any more; they became a health concern also. Not merely did I move to the Bay Area, California, which was the undisputed leader in the witch search for smokers, I was analyzed with asthma.
I could say from that moment on, 15 years ago, I was trying to quit smoking on an everyday basis. There was by now a drastic change in place for me - I couldn't smoke at my workplace any more and I had to time my smoking habits according to the office schedule. It was harder at home since my colleague, an American, was a smoker too.
We decided to merely smoke outside the home. That didn't work at all, as, unfortunately, it's California, the weather is lovely year around, so we both ended up only sleeping in the house, while living, eating, having friends over on the back yard terrace. It's amazing with how much yard work you can spend - our postage stamp sized back yard became more similar to jungle with heirloom tomatoes, tea roses, sweet peas, and citrus trees.
I lastly quit smoking cold turkey. Two years afterward, with a new lease on life, I'm proud to say - I haven't had a cigarette since. I know it very well: once an addict, always an addict and I had my share of night sweats, nightmares, inevitable shivers, unmanageable crying. But I can all the time say it was resulted by my divorce drama, not nicotine. Every now and then, during lunch break in the monetary region, I stop by somebody smoking in front of their office building. Second hand smoke still smells so good.