Personal request to bloggers

by

Patricia Parkinson

I hate to do this to you, but well, I'm still sick, not as sick, but God, why won't this fucker leave me alone? This virus, this pneumonia.... this cancer!

I always think its cancer. A sore throat turns into strep throat that turns into throat cancer and I picture myself with a hole in my larynx holding one of those machines to it that will make me sound like a serial murderer, and I have a nice voice! I do! It's one of my favourite things about myself. Aching bones become arthritis and osteoporosis and finally, Lou Gehrig’s. God forbid if I get back an irregular pap smear. My current illness has turned into lung cancer.

I am a smoker - a heavy smoker if the truth be known. I perceive I don't smoke a lot because I never smoke the entire cigarette. I get bored after the first few puffs and flick the rest away. I only smoke cigarettes with white filters and have a theory that if all filters were brown, fewer women would smoke. The white ones seem clean, less bad for me and look better in an ashtray.

Anyway, the thing is, this illness is hitting too close to my mortality home and I've decided to quit smoking!! I suppose this is the thing reformed smokers who can be such a pain in the ass, I hope I don't become like that, but, yes, I will, I can see it now… anyway, this sickness has caused the thing that all non-smokers told me would happen, the thing I didn't believe could ever happen and the thing I didn't want to ever happen. I like smoking.

They’ve all told me, "You'll know when the time is right for you to quit." This saying, resisted for 28 years of my life, I've smoked for 28 years! God, I should have written this number down sooner, reminds me of the times I asked, probably the same people, "How will I know when I'm in love?" "You'll just know," they said. "You'll just know.” They were right about that, so, I figure, they must be right about this too. So this Monday, all the books I've read about quitting smoking say to pick a day, and this Monday, November 27, 2006 will be my first official day of not smoking.

My plan is to get those new nicorette fake cigarettes that look like a cigarette but are plastic and have a nicotine cylinder thingie you put in them and you suck it, or, well, I haven't tried it yet. My main concern is that I'll gain a pound and ditch the idea altogether and never try to quit again. I refuse to be one of those people that walk around with this supposedly healthy smile, clearer skin and increased energy spouting,"Oh gee, I may be a fat porker but at least I don't smoke anymore."

My plan to control weight gain is to go off my antidepressants that I take for anxiety, I’m not depressed, I’m not, really. Anxiety is a good weight loss program, that, and laxatives, I'm kidding of course about the last two points, however, I could take less of them as they slow down my metabolisim and I figure, hey, it's all about less!!! And then I think if I take less and already have increased anxiety because I'm trying to quit smoking, maybe I should take more meds and be semi-comatose and sit around all daying eating bags of things that say, “No Trans Fats! You now have insight into the inner workings of my mind, not that you didn't before, but well, I’m freaking about doing this.

I'm telling you all this here, it's making me manic just thinking about posting it... which seems like overkill now, but I wanted to do this, sitting here late to post, because there are a few things I like to think I know about myself. I am habitually late, not too late, but late none the less, my favourite clothes are outerwear. I love coats and robes and shawls and scarfs and ponchos and fishermen’s knit sweaters. I am a whore for the smell of my husband’s after shave and if I tell people I'm going to do something, especially in a public forum such as this, I will be one hundred percent more likely to follow through. I have to quit smokling. I love my kids and it’s not man hater week so Phil is in the good books and besides, I haven’t finished my novel and Barbara Walters isn’t going to live forever, so with that in mind, this is my request to you. Please ask my about this, do not read this and then forget that I'm trying to quit smoking, ride my ass. Okay? Because well, I have to be accountable you see, so wish me luck and pray that my chest x-ray comes back clear.

P.S.

At the time of posting, my first official day has moved to Tuesday.