Today was visit number three, which makes it day 12 smoke free. I wasnt stood waiting outside for it to open last week, so it was a little busier today. A saw a new nurse (new to me, not to the clinic) called Karen, pleasant, well mannered and offering the usual support.
My carbon monoxide levels are down to 2ppm (parts per million), a big drop from my first visit of 47. We talked about different coping mechanisms, methods of distracting myself when I have the urges and Karen wrote me a two week prescription for the patches which is excellent as it means I don’t need to go back for a fortnight.
It does feel strange, having this dependency on them for the patches – though far better than being dependent on cigarettes. I wonder how heroin addicts cope with having to visit a pharmacy every day when they are on methadone. It is probably the least of their worries most of the time, but it is a constant battle for them and ties them to when and where they can go places. Either way, the visits to the cessation clinic remind me that smoking is an addiction, one that has had me in it’s grasp for nearly 30 years and cost me a bloody fortune. It gives me a boost to know that I am kicking it into touch and is something I need to remind myself of when this whole “packing in” endeavour get’s me down.