It struck me that today two weeks has two special meanings for me. I'm exactly two weeks in to being smoke free and I'm exactly two weeks out from my impending surgery. To be honest I'm not sure which is worse, the idea of never having another cigarette or the idea of having my chest sawed open. I suppose it sounds crazy but I'm at the point that I'd gladly trade one for the other right now. I'd love to report that I'm doing well at this whole non-smoking thing and if you define "doing well" as not smoking I guess I am, but in all honesty I'm really not. I think it's been long enough that the actual nicotine craving has subsided so I'm sure my desire comes from the habit itself, which I admit I really enjoy and miss a whole lot. I find I can't stop eating and my voracious appetite has me eating everything in sight. I sometimes worry that I'll wake up and my pillows and couch cushions will be gone. Eating just makes the cravings worse because, as any decent smoker will tell you, there's nothing like that after meal cigarette. Maybe if I just keep eating I'll never be done and thus won't want that post consumption smoke. God only knows how much weight I'm gaining back. I guess one of the good things about the upcoming surgery I have to look forward to is that one of the after effects supposedly is a loss of appetite that takes a while to return. That sounds like a total Godsend at this point! I just have to keep fighting the good fight and try not to panic. I've thought so many times about buying some cigarettes and just giving up but I haven't given in to those urges just yet. I keep telling myself that I have to stay quit until after surgery. I guess I can always decide to start up again later on. I know I shouldn't think that way; I should be focused on being a non-smoker for the rest of my life I suppose. Somehow it makes things easier if I tell myself I can later on. It gives me something to look forward to in a way. OK, so I confess it's taken me a good hour to write this paragraph. I've had to stop several times to nibble on snacks and contemplate what to eat for dinner. I finally decided on my own version of slumgullion, which was a dish my Mom used to make. The more I try to get this posting done the longer it seems to take. Maybe this is another hidden meaning of "two weeks". I started this around 4:00 and it's just going on 11:00 now. It's definitely starting to feel like two weeks.
One thing that's made the evening pass a little faster is that it stormed tonight. It's that time of year here in Phoenix that we get the monsoon storms rolling in with little to no warning. The last storm that moved through a couple weeks ago left me without power for six plus hours. I didn't lose any power tonight, though the lights did flicker a little bit a couple of times so I thought it might happen again. I got a text from my friend Jackie around the corner and their power was off for a little while. I'm glad the power didn't conk out on me tonight as I had dinner on the stove and this isn't the time of year to be going without air conditioning for very long! I at least had my phone fully charged just in case, though, so I could call someone if I needed to and was without power. Now that I've eaten [more] I'm back to wanting a cigarette. I swear if I keep replacing smoking with food my friends are going to have to literally butter me up to get me out the door for surgery. I guess all this going back and forth between thinking about food and smoking is distracting me from thinking about my brother Bud. I still can't believe he's gone and that I won't ever be able to pick up the phone and call him ever again, even if just to catch up on each other's blood sugar and depression status. Food even makes me think of him because he and I shared a love of good food, especially the kinds of things that weren't good for us. His wife had gotten him a teddy bear for his birthday and she gave it to me to hold onto and to keep my other stuffed animals company. It's a part of him that I'll keep with me. I currently have him perched up on the back of the couch with Cass, my newly acquired purple bear with the patchwork heart that I decided to name after Mama Cass Elliot. I'm planning to take both along with me to the hospital so they can watch over me after surgery. And if, God forbid, anything should happen it is good to know Bud will be there along with Mom and Dad waiting for me. Mourning sucks, especially in the midst of everything else going on. I'm not sleeping well and I've been having some very bizarre and wild dreams. I'm not sure where they are coming from or what they mean. Are they from the stress of the impending surgery and recovery I have to look forward to? Or maybe they are stemming from quitting smoking? Possibly the root cause is losing my brother. Perhaps it's all of the above? I find myself thinking of that old line from one of Bud's favorite movies, Airplane!, "Looks like I picked a bad week to quit smoking!" Anyway, here I sit, two weeks in and two weeks out, still smoke free but eating like an absolute pig, dreading my surgery and what's to follow, and missing my brother. Where to go from here? Sigh.
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