Smoke

I am a smoker. Been smoking most of my life- over 35 years now.
I started smoking right about when the Surgeon General started making noises implying that smoking wasn't good for you, but deeply in the age when cigarettes were heavily advertised- and used- virtually everywhere. The only place smoking was not allowed, back then, was around flammables. People smoked not only on tv and the big screen, but in theaters; you could smoke on airplanes, in elevators, in stores- even in hospital rooms. I think the statistics for that time, which held until just recently in this area, said that 2 out of 3 people smoked.
My mother did not smoke, and did not want me to, but we had only one conversation that I can recall wherein she asked me not to. Hers and the Surgeon General's were the only voices I heard saying anything at all against smoking, and they were drowned out by the overwhelming support- actual and implied- smoking then enjoyed. In other words, I was strongly encouraged- and hardly discouraged at all- in developing an addiction to nicotine.
Within a few years of having become physically and psychologically dependent on cigarettes, I tried to quit smoking for the first time because I was pregnant. I was not able to, though, and I remember one of the nurses saying that we new mothers didn't realize that our babies were born addicted to nicotine, too. I pondered that, while I smoked in my room.
As the years passed, I tried now and then to quit again, never succeeding for more than a week, during which time I gained 5 lbs. The fear of how much I might gain if I went longer was a factor in not wanting to try again for a long time after that, and even hearing that it would be better to be overweight than to smoke didn't help. Now that I've gained some weight passing through menopause, at least that shouldn't be as big a hindrance as before. But that is only one of the obstacles I face.
The last time I tried to quit smoking, about 20 years ago, I managed to make it for 13 hours before I caved in. I spent as much of the time as possible sleeping; I gave up when I started itching all over and crying.
When my last child was born, the labor lasted so long that I had to go outside, with the IV attached, to have a cigarette a couple of times. I also smoked in the bathroom, before and after- I knew they wouldn't throw me out before, and actually wanted them to, after. I never stayed long in the hospital anyway, after giving birth, but that was mostly because I couldn't sleep there, and wanted to get my babies away from all the poking and prodding as soon as possible. But, looking back, part of the reason I always wanted to go home right after- the same day, if possible- was to be able to smoke.
One of the reasons pregnant women shouldn't smoke is because somebody claimed that babies of smokers might be born too early, be underweight, and suffer fetal injury. I don't know what the deal is with that, but I smoked more with each succeeding baby, and with the exception of my daughters- who were a couple ounces smaller because they're girls, and one was my firstborn- they each weighed more than the one before, and ALL of them were born late, with no fetal injuries. But then, I did pray almost continually that they would not have to suffer because I couldn't quit, so make of that what you will.
When I started smoking, cigarettes were 50 cents a pack, and were easily obtained from retailers and vending machines, even though I was underage. Only once did someone refuse to sell them to me because I was under 18. Now they cost anywhere from $4.80 to $5.80, and I hear they're going to tack on another 60 cents for some reason. A friend, who switched to rolling his own after the last big hike, says they've increased the price of the bags of tobacco by $26- that's an increase of twice the original price.
I understand that some of the anti-smoking lunatics are motivated by a genuine concern for health- mostly their own, believing as they do in the second-hand-smoke monster invented to help scare off the tobacco companies and to spare themselves the horror of ever having to smell smoke.
I'll venture to say that most of us who are still smoking these days would love to quit, but are not able. You can be sure that anyone who continues to smoke under the present conditions is completely addicted, and sadly for most of us, the placebos they've conjured up to help us really don't. I have wasted a good deal of money trying such products; apparently the only one that's going to help me quit will have to involve being drugged into oblivion long enough to get through withdrawal. So you know what you can do with those patches, gum, and suicide pills.
The worst thing about being a smoker these days is having to endure the legally sanctioned ostracism of a large part of society. I really don't appreciate being treated like a leper, or a second-class citizen- to put it nicely- just because I smoke. It's hard not to be offended that I am no longer welcome at most drinking or dining establishments, unless I want to spend part of my visit outside, regardless of the weather and probably without a place to sit while I smoke. And it angers me exceedingly that we are being taxed at a much higher rate than anyone else. None of this helps people like me quit- it just makes us very, very mad.
Some of the people being hurt by this ill-conceived war against smoking are the men and women who once put their lives on the line to keep this country safe and free. In Ohio, these heroes recently lost an appeal to get an exemption for their clubs from the smoking ban that was passed a short while before that, through deceit and treachery- not the will of the people. I hope you control freaks are happy. How does it bother you if our vets smoke while visiting their VFW and American Legion halls?
The point of this rant, I guess, is that we smokers don't want to impose upon you anti-smokers, and we have bent over backwards to accomodate your phobic aversion to being exposed to smoke. But you have to allow us to live also, and to smoke if we need to- and some of us really do.