The Big C – & I'm not talking about the TV series…

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My maternal grandmother died in a horrific car accident in July.

Yesterday my paternal grandmother was admitted into the hospital due to rectal bleeding. She was previously scheduled for heart surgery to remove two aneurysms and will most likely miss that surgery due to her current Dr not wanting to release her – he’s running a barrage of tests.

One of them is for Cancer.

The C Word.

My grandmother began smoking as a teenager in the early 50’s, like many others, before anyone really knew that smoking was dangerous to one’s health. I honestly think that back then, they weren’t even really that dangerous. But Nicotine is highly addictive, and by the time tobacco companies began adding the really dangerous shit, it was too late – people were hooked.

My grandmother  has smoked two packs a day of Marlboro Lights 100’s for as long as I can remember. When she developed so much plaque in her veins five years ago that she got light headed every time she stood up, the doctors told her it was time to quit. She developed a clot in her leg so large that it blocked circulation and her pinky toe on her right foot turned purple.

She kept smoking.

She quit for a short while a few years ago –  maybe a month? She says she just doesn’t have the willpower to quit. Each time I quit, I call and tell her, how hard it is, how much I miss it, how much better I feel without it. She is always happy to hear it, always wishing she could do it to.

I wonder how she’s managing, stuck in the hospital room for two days, unable to take a cigarette break?

My husband and I quit smoking in January, and we lasted until June without starting back. Prior to finding out about my grandmother yesterday, we had scheduled a quit date of October 10th. I am tired of this. I am tired of the smell, tired of the $300 a month we spend on this crap, tired of the taste in my mouth, tired of the smoke in my eyes, tired of a sore throat after a night out when we’ve smoked too much.

I am so tired of it. Better to quit now than be forced to quit in a hospital room when I am 73, with my entire family a nervous wreck, wondering how much longer I have…

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