Day 15 & 16 - Turning hard-headiness to work in your favor.

I woke up this morning after a night of WEIRD dreams to find that my tonsils are swollen. While I don't really get sick, I do wake up with swollen tonsils or allergies sometimes. It's funny, when I was a smoker, I had chronic bronchitis. I've been smoke-free for going on 3 years this October, and I haven't really been sick since then. I've had a small cold for a few hours, more than likely just allergies, but nothing major at all. My life has definitely changed for the better since quitting smoking. I urge my friends who have recently picked up the habit to put it down all the time. It's not that I'm being a hypocrite, I just know what it is doing to their bodies. I smoked for 15 years. My wake up call happened around March of 2010. I had gone on a trip to NC with my best friend (I call her my sister. After 25 years of friendship, I earned that right :)). The last day we were there, I started feeling like a cold was coming on. As we were flying home, it started getting worse. By the time we landed, I was floored. I thought it may have been the flu, so I started treating it as such. About a week later, I was no better, and the build-up in my lungs was quite hard to miss. It literally sounded like someone was crumpling up paper every time I took a breath. I was standing in the office with my Cpl., and took a breath. He demanded that I see a Dr. ASAP. I made an appointment a couple hours later.

As the doctor did his routine,"Take a deep breath" with the stethoscope, I noticed he was reacting in a way that is not normal. I could tell he was really concerned. So I was sent for chest x-rays. When the results were in, I was advised that I didn't have the flu, but a flare-up of bronchitis. A flare-up that was left untreated for so long it was starting to grow arms out of my lung walls, making my lung collapse around it. (Sorry for the image.) He was surprised I was even standing, much less at work. He told me I had two options: go home now and don't come back to work for 3 days, or he would admit me into the hospital. I reluctantly agreed to go home. It was the weekend, after all, our busiest time of the week. Before I left, I asked the Dr., "My father smoked for 40 years, and his lungs looked as though he'd never picked up a cigarette. Am I that lucky?" Nope. He advised me that if I don't quit, I would have full-blown emphysema in 10 years.

To the average person, that would be enough to scare anyone into submission. But, I am a hard-headed woman. I went home, like he said, but only stayed gone 2 days, instead of 3. I resumed work, and my symptoms got worse. It got so bad that I literally had to sleep sitting up because lying down made my chest feel like it was pressing down on my lungs, causing me to go into a deep coughing spell. I was miserable. I still went to work through it, which only slowed my progress. I got on the patch, but for some reason it would make me queasy. I couldn't figure out why, so I went back to smoking.

One month. That's how long it took me to recover. I slept sitting up for a month. I can't tell you how good it felt to be able to finally lie down in my bed and sleep without waking up violently coughing. I ended up smoking for a few more months. Soon after getting better, I left the Police Department and moved to Austin. In October of 2010, after a very stressful situation happened to me, I decided enough was enough once and for all. I went back on the patch, Step 1. It started making me sick. Finally, I realized I wasn't smoking enough to warrant using Step 1, so I stepped down to Step 2. Eureka! We've found a winner!

I used about 2 boxes of the patch, then stopped the program. A bold move, considering the duration of my habit. I never picked up another cigarette. And I don't want to. I'm actually quite repulsed by them. Even being around it makes me feel ill.

As I said earlier, I'm a hard-headed woman. So, when I try to urge people to kick the habit, I'm not being bitchy. I was assaulted, and 3 days later I quit smoking. So I can't really sympathize with anyone who says they smoke because of stress. And if I can successfully quit even after a traumatic experience like that, anyone can. You just have to care enough about your body to do it.

I've shared this long-winded story as a prelude to how determination and commitment can do wondrous things in your life. When you are at the point where you are ready to better some part of your life, remember that initial drive you felt when you start to give up. Anything that's worth doing is worth doing right. I've been up and down with dieting and weight-loss. But I will never forget the embarrassment and pain I felt when I stepped on the scale and saw a number higher than I had ever seen. I also will never forget the anger I felt towards myself for letting it get that badly, and the readiness I felt when I decided to delete that number from my body. Whenever I feel like giving in and eating pizza (mmmm....pizza...) I reflect back on that day that I looked in the mirror and was disgusted. I say a little prayer for strength, and I press on.

I'm no fool. I know that I'm human, and humans are erroneous. So I try to deter bad habits before they turn into overwhelming temptation. I'm determined to kick those extra pounds out for good. And I'm just hard-headed enough to do it, despite what my mind tells me.

You can too. Tell that little voice that says "one more slice is ok" to go whistle. "Call for take-out," it says. Get bent. Start treating that inner lazy person as though they are your worst enemy, and you are tired of being pressured to give in to temptation. With training, that little voice can become your best friend, telling you to ignore the craving to order pizza (mmmm....pizza..). All you have to do is get fed up enough. And hang on to that feeling.

By the way, I'm down another 2 lbs. Take that, temptation.