Breaking the habit

Friday, November 29 2013. It is a day I will never forget. The day I quit smoking. The day my life changed.

I came down with an upper respiratory infection about a week prior that just wouldn't go away. I also had COPD. Nothing major, just asthma from smoking really. But then this sticky crud mucked up the works and I couldn't get enough air.

Thanksgiving Day was rough. I managed to get my turkey brined, something I do every year, the day before. Got it seasoned, basted, and in the oven. And then had to have the family do the rest under my direction, because just going to the sink and back to the table took all my air. I still didn't realize I was in trouble. We had a great dinner. I went to bed full and tired as all get out. Friday morning, I got up and realized I might be in trouble. Couldn't get a breath, couldn't stop coughing. My husband told me to go see my doctor and get some antibiotics. So I did. And they sent me straight to the hospital ER. The ER gave me breathing treatments, but my Oxygen stayed in the 80's, so they admitted me. I was hospitalized for 5 days. The whole ordeal brought some things home in a way I didn't expect.

For one, I did not WANT a cigarette. I smoked my last at 4pm that Friday, before my son drove me to the hospital. While in the ER, when I was panicking because I couldn't get any air in my lungs, and my 18 year old had to hold a mask to my face... I saw terror in his eyes. And I remembered, when I was exactly his age, feeling the same fear as I watched my Dad fight for breath in the ER from THE SAME THING. COPD.
It killed my Dad, and it killed my Mom, and it will kill me if I don't act NOW. That is what went through my mind. And seeing what it did to my son, to watch his mom fighting to breathe..I cried. I begged my kid to forgive me for putting him through this. And I made a promise. I would never smoke another cigarette. Today is my 10th day being smoke free. I didn't crave a smoke in the hospital, and I haven't really craved one since I got out. I have had help.

I started using a nicotine patch on the third day at the hospital because I was getting edgy. Now that I'm home, and bored out of my mind because my doctor won't let me go to the office to work next week.. there have been times when the craving kicked in. For those times, I have an e-cig.

I do wish the FDA would get off their butts and approve these things for a smoking cessation tool, because let me tell you, they work. I use Blu. It helps with the 'habit' part of smoking, and gives enough nicotine to cure the craving too. And tastes better, doesn't smell, and it ISN'T SMOKE. To me, its the same thing as using the patch, or the gum, or a lozenge. Its a cigarette replacement that keeps me from falling off the wagon.

I have had nightmares that I smoked a cigarette.  My Dad used to have them after he quit. I used to think it was kind of funny. But now I understand.  I am AFRAID to smoke. That is the reality of COPD. Of facing your own mortality in the eyes of your children. That was God slapping me in the face with reality and saying, look at your Blessings, don't throw this away! And I don't intend to. No, not at all.

Time to play with the 'experimental' blog for a bit. This is my personal blog, compared to Faith Walking that I consider public.. So I suppose it is ok for me to post my personal pains here right?

I am scared.

I have been scared for several months. Something is wrong with me health-wise and it is causing me tons of pain and issues. Tomorrow I have an MRI scheduled. And I am not sure what scares me most - that they will find something, or that they WONT find something.

What I want, is for the DR to tell me that a rigorous physical therapy program is OK and might eventually give me my mobility back. That there are no tumors, no stones, no body parts about to explode. I want to know that the day I had to use a motorized cart to get around Publix this month was an exception and won't ever happen again. I want to be able to spend the day at the Zoo and enjoy it, instead of walking bench to bench and sitting down wanting to cry.

I am 50 years old next Saturday. And while I should expect to experience some discomfort, I know this isn't the norm. I am jealous of the 60+ year old women who look and act so much younger than me! I want that!
I want to be able to enjoy events with my teens, or walk my dogs, or even get up in the morning and not feel like rolling into a ball somewhere.

I think I might be more accepting of things if I knew WHAT was causing it and that there is a treatment plan. That it will get better and  not worse. That there is something that can be done, or that I can do.. to recover and that I am not doomed to a future of more of this. I am going to make a very poor senior citizen at this rate. I don't handle this kind of pain well. The pain killers my doctor gives me, are either ineffective, or the kind that I won't take (narcotic) so I'm sort of pressed between the wall jam there. If this is normal for my age? Then I just discovered the cause of Alzheimers, because daily narcotic pain killer use for stuff like this will definitely kill brain cells. I refuse to be come a zombie from pain meds, so there HAS to be another option.

Sigh. I am rambling on again, but that is what this is for, right? Anyway, my fingers are crossed, and I am in prayer.  God will pull me through this. I just have to remind my self to let him do it.

I don't feel much like writing this morning, but I have found it to be therapeutic to do so in the past, so here it is. This has been a week of hell. I have certainly had worse weeks..like when my Mom died, or when my Dad went into a coma and died.. This week it was pets. Two of them, just a few days apart. Add to that being in mega amounts of pain with little to no relief, and it totals into a week of hell.

On Thursday morning, we got the call that our little 11 yr old Yorkie had passed away at the vet hospital over night. My husband and I were both crushed. For a 4.5 lb dog, she had us wrapped tightly around her little paw. I have been in pain since Sunday night and more than a little scared about what it could be, and maybe my mind was more concerned with my own health on Tuesday and Wednesday, because we didn't recognize that Booti was that sick until I called to check on her Wed afternoon and heard she was in a coma.  I had fully expected to come home and see her bouncing up, glad to see us and to go to her own room. Instead, I left work and rushed her to the vet. A big shoutout to Blythewood Animal Hospital here. They did everything they could and then some to save her. It just wasn't to be.

Thursday morning, after I had told my husband about the vet call and Booti passing, he told me 'go to the ER. Now.' Huh? He never advocates going to the Emergency Room. He did this week. He called and texted and bugged me till I drove myself down there. I was sure it was a kidney stone trying to pass or a blockage of some kind, because it is just that kind of pain. Nope. Kidney Infection. Bad enough that they put me on an IV antibiotic. Gave me percocet which have very little affect on the pain. Probably because I flipped a bit with the 'really low dose' of morphine they gave me in the ER. I'm a lightweight when it comes to drugs I guess.

I started feeling better Friday night, but Saturday morning I woke up in pain again. So I thought I would get the grocery shopping out of the way just in case. Good thing. Came home from the grocery store and found one of our cats, Disco, paralyzed in the back end and crying. So now there is a trip to the Vet ER which is really expensive. Dr there said Disco had thrown a blood clot and she had a heart condition. It was decided to put her down rather than let her suffer. And I broke down and joined my daughter in crying. It was more than I could take right then. It still is if I let myself think about it too much. Meanwhile I am still in the same amount of pain and all I can do is pray for healing, cause the doctors aren't helping me ;(

I have cried out to God this week. I'm not sure if he chose to allow more tragedy and pain or what. I know he heard me. I am still praying. Pray with me.

Aaaagh, I hate kidney stones. I have lived with them all my adult life and I still manage to keep producing them. This morning is day three of the most recent 'episode' and OMG the pain is horrible. :( And its not moving, which is really odd. Last time this happened it was a certain kind of stone that was blocking the kidney and this is the same kind of pain..just on the other side. Yippee.

God will get me through it. I just have to bear with it. But I am human and it is seriously affecting my ability to be civil to people ;( Waaaah. Gimme my security blanket now so I can curl up in a corner and feel sorry for myself. Sigh.