I think I can, I think I can

I think I can, I think I can

This weather has kept me from posting up to date entries, so hopefully after this I should be up to date.  Look for a new entry this weekend and a "before" picture, as I start my 6 week program on Saturday!


Saturday, February 10th


Alright, day #2 of no smoking.  This morning has been quite the test for me.  I made my coffee and just sat here thinking about what was missing.  I want one so bad, it’s just unbelievable.  I’m sort of disoriented too.  I feel kind of fuzzy, like that feeling you get when you have to wake up hours before you are used to.  It’s like I’m doped up on some cold medicine.  All I know is this sucks.


I had some time to think last night.  I thought about where I was from a health stance.  My meeting with Holly was a serious wake up call.  As I filled out my paperwork, I told her about my dad’s heart attack and how it was so surprising when it all happened.  We talked about some other health stuff, and as we went through the process, I started putting pieces of the puzzle together.


As we started things out, she took my height and weight.  Good news is I am a quarter inch taller than what I thought I was, bad news is I’m about five pounds heavier than I was that morning.  Holly explained that’s normal, we can vary in weight throughout the day.  Still, when I seen her tap that marker higher and higher on the scale, I felt my heart just sink.  “What am I doing to myself?” I thought.  I have to keep telling myself my metabolism has slowed, that I knew this was going to happen with my quitting smoking, but it was just hard to swallow—no pun intended.


Next came the measurements, the dreaded time when I find out just how big my waistline is.  First she measured my arms and my legs, which I started to get a little too cocky about.  HA!  My arms and legs are the best part of my body!  At least one thing was going to look good on that paper!  Then came the waist…ohhh, the dreaded waist.  Holly put the measuring tape just under my bra,  and I was like, “Heck yeah, that’s the thinnest part!  My measurements are going to look good!”  My parade was very quickly rained on.  “Umm, no, I just hook the tape together there.  I need you to pull it down so it is even with your belly button.”  I felt like a deflating balloon, shriveling up to a wrinkled piece of latex.  Reluctantly I put it in the proper place, and squinted as I braced myself for the results.


Turns out my thin legs and arms aren’t so good.  Apparently my waistline is not in proportion with the other measurements, which means that my small extremities and big waist puts me at higher risk for heart disease.  That’s freakin’ spectacular.  Talk about hitting a brick wall—that wasn’t what I thought I was going to hear.  As if that wasn’t enough, the old body mass index chart got pulled out.  It looks like a chart on the back of a pantyhose box, and it’s divided into 3 colors from left to right:  white, yellow, and red.  Anyone want to take a wild guess as to which color I was in?  Ding, ding, ding!!!  If you guessed red, you are correct!  As she lined me up, I stammered out, “Ughhh, I’m in the red, aren’t I?”  God bless Holly.  She smiled reassuringly, and said, “Yes, but we are going to get you into the yellow.”


So here I sit, thinking about yesterday and what I’ve got to do now.  I’m in that grey area, where I’m not by medical terms morbidly obese, but I’m also not healthy.  Having my flaws wrote on paper stung, but not as bad as hearing my future health risks.  I don’t want to have what happened to my dad happen to me.  With him, it came out of nowhere—we were all blind sided by it, and heaven forbid the same thing happen to me down the road.  To be honest, it scared me to hear what I was being told, but I guess I need that swift kick to my butt.


Sunday, February 11th


Day #3 smoke free!  I can’t believe I’m doing it, or should I say making it!  I’m not going to lie, I have had quite a few moments where I thought about getting some cigarettes today.  I miss it, but I keep telling myself I’m doing the right thing.  It’s like a break-up.  It’s that urge to just call the guy one last time, but you know you are going to be the fool if you do.  The only thing is I don’t a friend here to slap the phone out of my hand when break down.  I just keep telling myself I’m almost there—and now for some odd reason I’m playing The Little Engine That Could in my head.  That’s another thing—at times I totally lose focus.  I’m still a little disoriented with that foggy feeling, and the headache is minimal.  I hope this goes away soon!


I have found some organizing projects to do since I seem to be wired and slightly edgy.  I went through EVERYTHING in the bathroom, from tossing old products to taking Q-tips to the rails on the sliding drawers.  Next came the hall closet where I cut up (and evenly folded) pieces of old t-shirts for Pledge rags.  Ahh, sometimes being obsessive can be such a relief!


Wish me luck as I face the first official work week with no smoke breaks!  I know I won’t miss standing out in the cold!


Wednesday, February 14th


Blah, all I can say is blah.  The weather is blah and I feel blah.  I feel so incredible sluggish, not to mention sick.  Our power was out all through the night, and I guess sleeping with a hat and gloves under 3 blankets just wasn’t enough.  I can’t quite tell what my body is doing.  I’m tired, drained, and my body feels like it is recuperating from a bad bug.  I don’t know if it is a result of being so cold, or if I’m slowing down as the nicotine gets out of my system.  Who knows, maybe it’s a combo of both.  If anyone else has experienced this while quitting, please, let me know.


Good news is I’m still going strong.  I don’t have the physical urge to smoke, but I often I find myself longing to sit back and take another drag off one.  Driving isn’t too bad, but of course the road conditions have helped me with the need to keep both hands on the steering wheel at all times.  I did think about getting a pack the other day though.  I kept thinking how easy it would be to just swing by a drive-thru for one last pack, just to get that feeling of another drag.


It was hard yesterday to fight that feeling.  When the power went out in the middle of the afternoon, I got bored fast.  I paced and paced and paced, then paced some more.  I think I wore a path on the carpet I paced so much.  Ohh, all I wanted was a cigarette to occupy myself.  I could have even hovered over it to keep warm!  In the silence of the house, I could hear the sound of cigarette paper crackling as it burns with each drag.


It could have also been the sound of trees snapping under the pressure of the ice, but it sure didn’t help my imagination.