Why The Quit Smoking "Rules" Are Irrelevant

Too many rules create a big problem: failure. Quitting smoking is one of those situations where it's very easy to find yourself creating too many rules. You -must- set a date, get rid of everything to do with smoking the day before you quit, cram your calendar with activities that aren't smoking related and avoid caffeine, alcohol and any other situation that would make you crave a cigarette. Sound familiar?

Most smokers have tried several times to quit but have failed. I'm on my umpteenth attempt now and have been completely smoke-free for almost two months but followed almost none of the conventional rules that jump out at you from every website, NRT packet and No Smoking Day pamphlet.

For the past few years I have been getting very bad coughs. Whereas I don't suffer from them on a regular basis, when I do get a cough I get coughing fits so bad that I vomit. These coughing fits could come on their own or be triggered by laughing, talking too much or shouting. I sometimes got these coughing fits when I was well, if I was in a very smoky room for a long time.

In the last week of May this year I came down with a cough/cold, made worse because I was under a lot of stress at the time and was therefore smoking more than I usually would. I put up with it for just over a week, somehow still managing to smoke almost as much despite having a coughing fit after almost every cigarette.

I was in bed with Big Bear attempting to talk after one of said fits. I knew I should quit smoking not only for my health but for the health of the children (unborn included) but clung to it as my last luxury almost - that one last thing that was mine. I genuinely doubted my ability to cope without that, especially with the stress I was under at the time. He shrugged and said "Well, you're strong enough to raise two kids, you never thought you'd be able to do that at first." I melted immediately - that was the sweetest thing he'd ever said to me (he later said "Don't worry babe, I don't get moments like that often!").

The following morning I went to my GP to get some cough medicine (the store-bought stuff hadn't touched it). Sat in the waiting room, I anxiously debated whether or not to ask for some help to quit smoking. In the end, the big question was hastily thrown in at the end of my appointment and I was given a prescription for patches.

The nicotine bugs plagued me in anticipation. I didn't have to quit straight away, I could wait a while. The patches were just there as a just-in-case measure for when (or if) I decided to quit. It was with that in mind that I fell asleep that night with no feelings of anxiety at all.

I woke the next morning and immediately put on a patch. I don't even know why, it just felt right. It was several days before I managed to go a full day without a cigarette - what would have been the last one of the day was the one that was hardest to shake. I've had a few slip ups since - but the "10-Week Stop Smoking Programme" the packet of patches told me I was on lasted 11 days. I forgot to put my patch on one morning and didn't realise until 3pm - that was when I knew I'd beaten it.

I didn't need nicotine replacement therapy or months of preparation. I still have the freshly opened pouch of tobacco I'd began to smoke the day before I quit on my shelf. I still mingle with people who smoke. My cough? It cleared up completely within a week. But realising how quitting helped my health wasn't what made me strong. What kept me strong was remembering the encouraging words of Big Bear, and Goldilocks's smile when I told her I was no longer going to smoke cigarettes.