Do any of you have kids who smoke?

<p>^^ Way to go, caymandriver.</p>

<p>On New York television stations, they run PSAs for New York Smokers Quitline, and these PSAs are grotesque. They’ll show a smoker’s artery, complete with fat build-up, as a gloved hand squeezes out all the fat. They’ll show a guy who had his larynx removed and speaks out of a box in his throat. They’ll show an internal photo of a smoker while he is inhaling, and the path the smoke takes. Really gross stuff.</p>

<p>New Yorkers who have seen the PSAs have remarked how disgusted they are when they view them. But the results have been astounding in terms of getting them to quit. And I say “good for them!”</p>

<p>When caymandaughter has her bloodwork and physical over Christmas, you may want to have a chat with the doctor ahead of time. Perhaps Doc can share a tale or two about his/her medical experience treating smokers. I remember when my husband and I quit (and my husband had a VERY difficult time), his Doc told a story about his patient who recently had to have his gangrened leg amputated, due to obstructed circulation, which was a direct result from his smoking. Pictures, anyone?</p>

<p>Hi guys- I know I will get beat up bad here, but I admit that I am a smoker. Started in high school (I was a “perfect” child- great grades, top of class, obedient child) I chose smoking as my almost single rebellious act since my parents were rabidly anti-smoking. (This was before all the health data- their issue was the cost). </p>

<p>I have tried hypnosis, patch, nic gum, e-cigarette substitute- all to no avail. I heard recently (2 days ago) on NPR a teaser for a report I didn’t hear about how today’s smokers are different than those of years ago and how the addiction is actually different today than before- or something like that. If anyone heard it, could you summarize for me? </p>

<p>I smoke approximately 3 packs a day- the crazy part is I only smoke them half way down. </p>

<p>I can tell you, however, from personal experience, that the more people told me not to smoke, even when they were genuinely concerned for my health , the less likely I was to quit. It has only been in recent years, when people have finally given up on trying to change me that I have taken the issue far more seriously and have made attempts to quit. </p>

<p>So, DonnaL, I would say you have every right to be upset and concerned that your son is smoking. I certainly can’t say smoking has been a good thing for me. But, I just tell of my experience so that you can consider whether any discussion of this at all will help him come to the conclusion to quit. He is the only one who can make the decision to quit. He is also, for sure, not unaware of the health risks.</p>

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<p>True for me as well, pipmom.</p>

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<p>Even truer. Only the smoker can make the decision to quit. The smoker must be ready, and the smoker must have the desire to do so. And the smoker must be ready to jump in to “quit mode” with both feet.</p>

<p>I think a lot of kids think "I won’t be the one with medical problems, it will happen to someone else" or “I can quit any time I want because I have willpower” or “Who cares what happens when I’m 50, that is ancient.” They don’t realize that once you ARE fifty, death or severe medical problems are as frightening, loathsome, and unacceptable to you as when you were 18 or 21–that you want just as badly to go on living.</p>

<p>I’ve never met a smoker in their forties or even late thirties who was happy about smoking. They were all trying to quit. But once you’re addicted, it’s so hard. I know you said it was easy for you, DonnaL, but for most people it’s hard . . . It may be hard for your son too.</p>

<p>I had a coworker last year . . . he was not that old. Probably mid-30s. He smoked. In January, I said something about New Years resolutions and asked if he’d made any. “Yeah, I’m going to quit smoking,” he said. “I’m tired of coughing all the time.” I asked if that was a big problem. He said, “Yeah, sometimes when I get out of the car I just cough and cough until I vomit up black stuff. I’m sick of it.” </p>

<p>Think of what must be happening to his lungs for that to happen. And only in his thirties! Where will he be ten, twenty, thirty years down the line? He didn’t manage to quit smoking while I was there. He’d struggle through a few weeks, and then come in one day smelling like smoke again. Poor guy . . . </p>

<p>I’m sorry to hear it’s so prevalent in Europe. One of the most frustrating things in life is when the information is there to steer people away from danger and they shut their eyes to it. “It won’t happen to me . . .”</p>

<p>best wishes to pipmom, who started smoking before health warnings (around '65) or so when warning labels came around. You’ve been a long-time smoker, but I wish you good luck quitting.</p>

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<p>Not necessarily. I certainly wasn’t ready to quit. When I took my last puff, I had just walked in the door after a midnight run to the store to buy cigarettes, so I would have plenty in case it snowed the next day. In fact, a large percentage of successful quitters stop, out of the blue, on the spur of the moment, with not even so much as an hour of advance planning. I think that you do have to be open to seizing the moment.</p>

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<p>That’s not crazy. That’s normal. Nobody actually enjoys smoking. We smoke because the junkie addiction has altered our brain chemistry in a way that requires nicotine. Our brians are wired to demand the “aaah” sensation that accompanies nicotine binding to specific brain receptors, triggering a dopamine release. There is so much nicotine in a cigarette that it only takes a few puffs every 20 minutes to keep the receptors bathed in nicotine all day, every day, for you entire life, unable to quit, until it kills you.</p>

<p>It’s a horrible way to live. When you escape the trap, you’ll look back and say, “why didn’t I do it sooner?” It’s really so simple. Just like a heroin junkie has to stop using heroin, a nicotine addict has to stop using nicotine. It’s out of your system in three days and the physical withdrawal and brain chemistry changes back to normal are substantially complete in just two weeks. Then, the hard part is over and it’s just a dynamic process of re-training yourself to “not smoke” in response to learned triggers instead of “smoking” in response. It’s nowhere near as difficult as the nicotine marketers (tobacco and pharma) want you to believe.</p>

<p>Is it true that most young gay men smoke? Is that Europeans, or is it also true for Americans?</p>

<p>On edit: This article says that gay American men have about two and a half times the rate of straight men, which puts the gay male smoking rate around 60%. </p>

<p><a href=“http://pagingdrgupta.blogs.cnn.com/2010/07/02/report-smoking-rate-within-lgbt-community-nearly-double-general-population/[/url]”>http://pagingdrgupta.blogs.cnn.com/2010/07/02/report-smoking-rate-within-lgbt-community-nearly-double-general-population/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

<p>Thanks to younghoss. </p>

<p>Idad- I understand what you are saying regarding the physical addictive qualities of smoking. But, without a doubt, there is a psychological side that is either intertwined or completely dependent on the physical. </p>

<p>The fact of the matter, in my case, is that I have successfully gone without a cigarette or nicotine replacement for three days or more. Yet, I have returned to smoking. Apparently, there is a psychological need for my return to nicotine use, even though the physical withdrawal has passed. I don’t know what it is. If I knew, perhaps I could overcome it. </p>

<p>And, in case you may be wondering- yes, I do acknowledge that I am a nicotine junkie- no different than heroin, cocaine, sex, alcohol, etc.</p>

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<p>Don’t get me wrong. It was only easy once I finally decided to do it. It took me 15 years to get to that point.</p>

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<p>No question about it. It is an insidious addiction. Here’s why. The brain has a reward mechanism for teaching us to do certain things. When we eat or drink, the brain releases a neurotransmitter dopamine which results in a contented feeling. This dopamine release is the brain’s doggie biscuit, given as a reward to teach us to eat again, or stay warm again, or wear comfortable shoes again.</p>

<p>Nicotine, by a fluke of nature, binds to the receptors in the brain that release dopamine. Thus, smoking triggers the exact mechanism that gives us a chemical doggie biscuit to teach us to do that (smoke) again. But wait, there’s more. Nicotine completely swamps these brain receptors. As a defense mechanism, the brain multiplies the number of receptors in an attempt to leave some free to be activated by other things. The end result is that the chemical reward mechanism is desensitized. Normal stuff doesn’t trigger the dopamine release, because nicotine hijacks the receptors. That’s why smokers need a cigarette to feel satisfied after a meal or after sex. Meanwhile, the dopamine releases from smoking all day, every day, for your entire life, 7500 times a year for a pack a day addict, relentless teached the brain to associate everything you do with smoking (because you are always smoking!) Eating lunch is followed by the “pow” of nicotine hitting these receptors 8 seconds after lighting up. Going to the bathroom is followed by the “pow”. Drinking coffee is accompanied by the “pow”. Arguing with your spouse is followed by the “pow”. After a few years of these obedience training, the smoker is literally a psychological slave to the drug addiction. It’s pathetic, really, but that’s brain chemistry.</p>

<p>So, you quit and you no longer have nicotine triggering a dopamine release, but the receptors are so desensitized, nothing else will trigger it either, leaving the new quitter in brain chemistry limbo. This sorts itself out in 2 to 4 weeks as the brain chemistry re-sensitizes returning to normal after nicotine is out of the body, but there’s no question this can lead to an emotional roller coaster ride for the first couple of weeks. There’s no way around it. You just have to accept it as you would accept an itchy cast to heal a broken bone. The more you understand the brain chemistry issues, the easier it is to deal with the aggravation. There’s really no fighting chance at all as long as you are actively using the drug. It’s the drug interaction with the brain that causes the physical and psychological craves. You have to get beyond the physical withdrawal to have a fighting chance with the psychological triggers. Otherwise, it’s like telling a teenage boy to not think about sex, while he’s watching a Playboy centerfold undress. You can’t fight the brain chemisty. The kid doesn’t have a chance. Same with a smoker still using nicotine.</p>

<p>Once you get past the physical withdrawal and brain chemistry issues (2 to 4 weeks), you then have to re-learn all the learned trigger associations with smoking. You experience a trigger, you don’t smoke, and the trigger is gone. Some after one round. Some (like my association with pouring a cup of coffee) take many rounds. It’s really about a year for all of them, because there are seasonal triggers such as cooking Thanksgiving dinner for the first time. Long after I was past daily thoughts of smoking, I went clothes shopping for the first time as an ex-smoker. I walked out of Marshalls and, the instant I hit the sidewalk, my hand reached up to my shirt pocket for the cigarettes, like Dr. Strangelove. First-time trigger. I had always smoked leaving a clothing store (needed nicotine), so that was a life-long learned response. It didn’t mean I wanted to smoke. I just laughed.</p>

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<p>Three days is when all of the nicotine is out of the body. That’s when the brain chemistry can start reconfiguring – a process that takes 2 to 4 weeks. Most of us experience the first full day without a single thought of smoking at about two months. Four months is pretty common as a point where being a non-smoker is comfortable. Of course, an ex-smoker can never, ever take a puff or any other dose of nicotine. The brain chemistry addiction is immediately re-awakened. 90% of ex-smokers who take one puff are back to the old rate of smoking almost immediately. You can’t gamble with those odds. Every month on my anniversary, I spend half an hour reading [The</a> One Puff Files](<a href=“Freedom - Information”>Freedom - Information), stories of ex-smokers who thought they could take a puff. I make a personal commitment to never take another puff for the next 30 days. Mind you, the thought of smoking is completely revolting to me now, but this little ritual reminds me where I came from and is cheap insurance.</p>

<p>It’s been more than 20 years now since my last cigarette, and I still feel the temptation every so often to have just one puff, usually when I’m outside and catch a faint whiff of tobacco in the air – which, that diluted, actually can smell almost pleasant. But even apart from being able to call to mind rather well the foul taste in my mouth after smoking, I’ve always been afraid that if I had even just one I’d be right back in it as a smoker. And I know I’d never forgive myself if I broke that promise I made.</p>

<p>I don’t mind the smell usually, but when I see people smoking, huddled outside a doorway, all gray and pallid like smokers always are from all the carbon monoxide, I picture junkies in the shadows injecting themselves with syringes. Kinda takes all the romance out of it. For me, the only memories of smoking now (a little over 2.5 years) are like the fleeting memories you might have of an old car you used to own. I haven’t been tempted to smoke since the moment I decided to quit (on my third day without smoking). I can’t remember the last time I thought about smoking. I just can’t remember. Certainly not in the last year.</p>

<p>Nobody actually enjoys smoking.</p>

<p>I can’t stand the smell of other peoples cigarettes & if someone walks/drives by who is or was smoking, I curl my nose in disgust, but when I smoked, I liked it, I liked lighting the cigarette, I liked holding it & I liked breathing the smoke out.
But when I quit, it was because I didn’t want to spend the money anymore, not cause I was worried about the health risks or didn’t really like it.</p>

<p>I was never that addicted though- I smoked about a pack of cigarettes a week.
I think when I quit was 1979? I have smoked a few times since then, not more than 5 altogether, when I was very nervous/upset, ( my H smoked at the time ) but not for about 15 years since it was nasty. :p</p>

<p>However, recently have started " medicinal" use of marijuana !!, after about 30 years of not smoking it at all ( I had smoked it * socially* :wink: ) , because of fewer side effects than prescribed medication for pain relief/sleep ( I have fibromyalgia) & I only need a little bit once or twice a week.
( I grow it myself)</p>

<p>Donna I feel your pain, my son just recently admitted he was a smoker. Only he isn’t at just a few a day. He is smoking at least half a pack a day. He told me he has no intention of quitting either. I too was a smoker for almost 35 yrs. and I quit when he was in the 7th grade, hoping to set a better example for him. Guess I failed at that.</p>