Chewing chewing gum

Day 25. As I alluded to in my last post, I have recently come to realize that I have developed a new problem: addiction to Nicorette. Now, I'm officially on the patch, and I never decided to go two-handed here: when I started out, I chose to do the patch with additional, more visceral help from the gum, four of which I would chew a day. And I have kept to this. In fact, I have steadily decreased my intake, to the point where I'm down to two a day. So, you're asking, what's the problem?

Basically this: that I'm doing it at all. Apart from the physical/chemical needs for cigarettes, the hardest part of quitting is getting rid of the habitual ones. There are still times when the stress is high, or there's something else entirely, and I think, "Well, that's it, I want a cigarette." I then sate this desire with the gum. But as a fellow smoke-quitter pointed out, that's a feeling I should be fighting off as well. Otherwise, what am I quitting, exactly, when I'm still essentially giving into the addiction? (Okay, so the disappearance of hacking coughs is a plus.)

Except when I'm asleep, there is nicotine floating around my system at all times. The point of quitting smoking is not just getting rid of the cigarettes themselves; it's to completely rid yourself of nicotine. According to my trusty box, I'm due to step down to the next level of Nicodern -- from the current 21mg, which I've been on since the start, to 14 -- in 2 1/2 weeks. After that, the process gets a sudden adrenalin shot, with the next step-down -- to 7mg -- only two weeks later, and nothing two weeks after that. (In other words, I will then no longer be a smoker. I even have an according sticker I just can't wait to stick somewhere prominent.) As I type this, I have in my possession only four or five more sticks of Nicorette. Those shall be my last, no less because they are mindbogglingly expensive.* Better start the complete wean-off now.

* But only in a sense. Like Nicoderm, Nicorette is priced to be roughly equivalent to the amount of money you would spend on cigarettes in the alotted time. In other words, you spend what you would otherwise spend, only you do it all at once. The problem with this, and why I think this system needs to be severely restructured, is that those of lower socioeconomic backgrounds aren't going to be able to keep this up. If you run out and have twenty bucks in your wallet for the next couple days, you could save up and fight the cause with absolutely nothing to help you, or you could just cave. As anyone who's found themselves strapped for cash for a long period of time knows, getting healthy is expensive. Just as it's less a strain on your wallet to grab something at Wendy's than it is to grab something at Whole Foods, it's cheaper to buy a pack of cigarettes rather than buy a box of Nicoderm. Where are the eternal tax hikes on cigarettes going again?

Catching up

Day 24. A partial list of the alterations to my non-smoking body that have caught my attention over the last week:

* the return of a less persnickety palette
* a healthier appetite, most notably for between-meal snacks (and, by the way, thanks, Halloween)
* an expanding second chin
* flabbier arms that could, for now, reasonably pass for muscle
* a greater sense of fatigue, and a need for at least seven hours of sleep on average
* more sporadic-than-usual spaciness
* an actual, honest-to-god, no-fucking-joke outbreak of acne over my face (I am 26)
* a sense of calmness that I actually decipher as eerie
* fur where there was no fur before (sorry; couldn't resist)

You'll notice that, other than the first two (and one of them's debatable), none of these are exactly pluses. Here we are, folks: into the dregs. I was expecting to gain at least a little weight, as that is normal and also, depending on who you ask, probably a good thing for me. (Though I never hit below 180 lbs., I have been described as "rail-thin," as I also happen to be hideously tall.) What I wasn't prepared for was to find my face dotted with more and more red dots as the days progress. Halfway through Junior High, I was hit quite extraordinarily by acne; dermatologists were consulted, numerous medications were prescribed, and I was grouped along with others ceremoniously dubbed "pizza face." Since high school, I had managed to moisturize my skin to the point where my face had taken on a babyish texture. Now, I'm worried.

Still don't crave a cigarette, though I think I've developed a new fixation: nicorette. But that's for another post. (Literally. It'll be the next one.)