J'ai oublie

When I was 14 years old, when I was finishing my freshman year of high school and my brilliant sister Amy was finishing her freshman year of college, she said her favorite phrase in French was "J'ai oublie."

OK, I can't figure out how to make all the accent marks. I wish I were Canadian. But I'm not. So Amy said, "J'ai oublie" was her favorite French phrase ever, and I asked, "What does it mean?" and Amy intoned imperiously, "I ... FORGOT!"

Turns out that "j'ai oublie" means "I have forgotten." ROFL!!! Amy is exactly that kind of person, which is exactly why I love her so much.

And I still can't do the accent marks, especially in blogs, but that phrase is pronounced "zhay ooblee yay." So now, you forgot, too!

Anyhoo. The whole reason I'm posting this post is to tell you that while most people were dealing with the holidays, I was dealing with both the holidays and... the forgetting to take Chantix.

J'ai oublie.

I forgot...

To take Chantix.

And I had un-set my morning alarm, but I was still getting the nighttime alarm to remind me to take my 1 milligram of Chantix.

Even with an alarm... I still managed to forget. Christmas was crazy. I mean, it always is, and I still was ahead of the usual schedule this year. Yet, even with all that work and the alarms, I forgot to take Chantix. For *days* at a time!

So. Here it is, and we're almost at the end of 2007, and I haven't had Chantix in more than a week, and I haven't had a cigarette in more than four months.

This is *so* weird. I haven't gone through Christmas without a cigarette since 1984. And trust me, Christmas is WAY more stressful than it was back then!!!!

But I made it through.

I think I have quit smoking. I feel nostalgic when I think about all those holidays when I went outside to smoke. But I got through it all.

I am going to miss the vivid dreams. So far, I still have the vivid dreams, and yes, I have been sleepwalking a good bit. (My husband tells me that on Christmas Eve, I led him on a merry chase while I wandered around the house, totally asleep.) I'm going miss hanging out with Mama. The vivid Chantix dreams have been such a fabulous god-send in terms of dealing with my perpetual longing for Mama. She died in April, 1993. I think *anyone* who has lost their mother is going to tell you how hard that is to deal with. Mama was my best friend, and the vivid dreams have given me such marvelous hours of visits with my best friend. I did have one vivid dream of visiting with my father -- who died when I was 8 years old -- and *that* dream was not fabulous. It was just weird. But since I got on Chantix, every time I've dreamed of Mama... Honestly, y'all, it's like she's really here. And that's... such a blessing.

I hope I haven't totally scared some readers. It's not maudlin. It's just... really cool.

So, anyway, I haven't had the Chantix, and I haven't had the vivid dreams.

And I haven't smoked. In fact, I am still totally disgusted by the whiffs of smoke I smell in public.

2007 was such an amazing year!!!

I'm almost ready

OK. I didn't post last weekend, like I said I would. I still keep up with a few of the Chantix bloggers, but only every other day instead of every single day. And I no longer read their blogs because I know that they're going through exactly what I'm going through. I keep reading them -- because they're interesting. Because I feel like they're my friends. Because they're fun. But not because it's going to bolster my resolve not to smoke.

I still make way more stuff out of paper than I ever did before. I am way more productive in the cards and the scrapbooks and the handmade boxes and books and doodads. But it's not because I'm desperate to keep my hands busy and to get my mind off smoking. It's because I became accustomed to it, and I enjoy it. Here it is almost Christmas, and I have some seriously kick-ass crafty things to give to my relatives. - Piles of handmade greeting cards that they can send to their friends. - Stacks of nifty little books filled with photos of loved ones. Heck, I even have tiny message boards that can hang out on the fridge door. I mean -- I have seriously made a whole ton of paper things, and it's not ALL because I'm jonesin' for a cig.

My doctor originally prescribed six months of Chantix for me. She said it was because I was such a longtime, heavy smoker. I smoked about two packs a day for 22 years. (Ya know what? I smoked more like 3 packs a day for a while there. I try not to remember that, I would love to deny it, but it's true. I smoked 3 packs a day for about a year during 2005-2006.)

Even though Chantix itself recommends 3 months, I was glad that my doctor prescribed six months of the drug. After all, Chantix itself recommends quitting after 7 days, and I failed miserably at that. I didn't quit smoking 'til the 20th day. Having the extra three months of drugs made me feel ... more secure. If that's possible. I mean, come on, quitting smoking is not an activity which actually qualifies for use with the word "secure."

But I am in my fifth month of the pill. I learned long ago to eat before I take a pill. I had to set an alarm on my cell phone to remind me to take the pill after several weeks. My sister quit smoking using just the patch -- and when she forgot to put on a new patch, she stopped using the patch.

My sister... is a *real* quitter. She amazes me. For all sorts of reasons for as long as I've known her, my sister amazes me -- but for quitting smoking and then giving up the patch before the recommended time, she *really* amazes me.

Anyway, here's the thing: I'm pretty sure I will not be filling my prescription for the sixth month of Chantix. I keep forgetting to take pills now, and that's with an alarm to remind me to take it.

And most importantly -- and I have so resisted this way of thinking --

-- Smoke repulses me.

It really does.

For weeks after I quit smoking, if I smelled cigarette smoke, I thought it smelled delicious. Just *divine*. Oh, if only I could bottle that irresistible aroma and pour it all over me! I would walk through clouds of smoke around the grocery store entrance, and I just wanted to hang out with those happy smokers and smoke with them! I would stand on the street outside the restaurant in Knoxville, and deeply inhale the delectable second-hand smoke like a dieter outside a doughnut shop.

I just ... so loved the smoke.

But recently --

If I run into a cloud of smoke outside the grocery store, I run through it faster than normal, and I hold my breath. The smoke smells so bad. So evil and bad and disgusting. It's like... Oh, I hate to say this, because I'm Southern and we just don't speak of these things. But cigarette smoke smells like... someone... had a bout of intestinal distress. It's literally repulsive. And I can't stop myself from making faces and running away from the bad smell.

I do not *want* to smoke.

And I never thought I would feel this way. I thought I would always be a smoker who simply wasn't smoking at the moment.

Now I look into the future, and I see it clearly, without a cloud of smoke hanging around it. I can watch a long movie and not light up first thing when I get out of a cinema. I can dine in non-smoking restaurants without feeling put-upon. (OK, all Tennessee restaurants are now non-smoking, and I'm so glad in such a perverse way. I honestly think it's an unconstitutional law, but I'm so glad that I don't have to smell smoke while I'm eating.)

My house smells better, my hair smells heavenly. I breathe deeply and it doesn't hurt. I don't cough first thing when I wake up in the mornings, and my sense of smell ... really has... become... more pronounced. Not my sense of taste, though. I still love the way everything tastes, and I can't tell that any food tastes better or worse now than it did before I quit smoking. I wear cologne now. I hadn't worn cologne regularly since I was 29 years old. There was no point. I never smelled the Private Collection over the stench of my smokiness. Now, I smell better than a freshly baked loaf of bread in a clean, new, brown paper sack.

I honestly do have more energy. I really am more positive and cheery and all that happy garbage that the non-smokers heaped on me unbidden when I was a smoker.

At the same time, I am in despair because my very best friend in the whole world hasn't quit smoking yet. I am going to see her in November of 2008. I hope that by then, I will have gotten over my phase of being repulsed by smoke. (Is repulsion a side effect of fear? Because I can handle it if it is.)

So this is where I am: My vivid Chantix dreams are becoming less vivid. (Maybe cuz I keep missing a dose.) I have gone through tons of stress. (Oh, my gosh, if I didn't want to smoke on Thanksgiving Day, then I will never want to smoke.) I am disgusted by cigarette smoke. And my sister, my other very best friend in the whole world, isn't smoking, too.

I think... I think I might be ready to stop taking the Chantix.

In a week or two.

But I refuse to give up the Chantix bloggers!!!

I'm here, I'm here somewhere!

I'm here, I swear! I'm fine, too, and I keep meaning to post. I just... want the post to be *right*, darn it, and I have spent so much time lately cleaning house and baking and washing china... I am worn out when I get to the computer. But I do want to write something, and soon, about where my head is at, as far as quitting smoking and taking Chantix are concerned. I am in my fifth month of Chantix. I have not smoked since August 19th. And I honestly forget for large chunks of time that I ever smoked. Which is weird.

So this weekend, I promise, I will post something profound. Or funny. Or maybe both!

In the meantime, after watching a film (documentary?) about Don Rickles, I'm convinced the world would be a better place if we were all more like him.

Think about that. And then try to fold laundry without cracking up.

And happy Chanukah to all my Jewish friends!!!! Y'all know you're lovin' it! Light a candle instead of a cigarette!!!! Yeah! Very cool holiday!