Cold Sweats Turkey Hell
So Carrie gets nose surgery and can’t smoke. Great time for us to quit right? I’m not sure if the past four days could be described as a great time. Little did I know when I smoked my last cigarette Friday morning at 8:30 a.m. that I was standing at the Gates of Hell. This being my own Divine Comedy (or Tragedy depending what non-smoking personality you are talking to) I have outlined below the results of quitting smoking cold turkey:
Circle One~ Driving alone seems to bring about the worst cravings. When I smoked I would light a cigarette the instant after turning the key in the ignition whether I was driving a block or a hundred miles. Friday, I sat at stop signs and traffic lights wanting to jump out of my window and grab the cigarette casually hanging between the driver’s fingers next to me.
Circle Two~ Cold sweats all night long Friday and well into Saturday. I could not stay awake and slept for almost 18 hours. It was not a restful sleep but a lot like the foggy headed, dizzy sleep you have after a few too many doses of NyQuil. Standing outside myself and surveying my condition I looked a lot like a lifetime special on a junkie.
Circle Three~ Food Glorious Food!!!! My mouth which was used to the motions of sucking on a cig every hour or so has nothing to do. It misses its little friend and has gone in search of any food substitute that might sate the cravings. To avoid having to kick the next habit and keep myself from being the next reality t.v. star, I try to snack on baby carrots and fat free sorbet but Sunday proves too much and eat apple pie ala mode. Biggest Loser IX here I come!
Circle Four~ Nervous energy. This is your body’s idea of punishment / blackmail. You won’t need to rearrange the closet (AGAIN) if you just go downstairs and smoke. The linen closet never bothered you before, so just go downstairs and smoke and quit rearranging the hand towels.
Circle Five~ Life is like a box of……. cigarettes? Everywhere I turn there is a box. Empty. Full. Half smoked. It took some serious will power to take the boxes I had in my purse and put them away. Those were like security blankets ready to soothe me should I fall off the smoke free wagon. Did I throw them away? Hell no! I may still fail at this and cigarettes are just too expensive to keep replacing.
I would love to continue, because believe me this whole life change is consuming me. I am obsessed, but for now I need to walk around the office and burn off some nervous energy before I run downstairs to smoke. One hundred and three hours and counting……
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Monday, February 05, 2007
Who Nose What Tomorrow Will Bring
Carrie underwent her surgery on Friday. All went well according to the doctor. Of course how it went is a pretty relative question? For instance, if you ask Carrie how it went she is liable to tell you that it’s possible the surgery went well as she slept through it all but that the recovery really sucks. She might ask you why those members of the medical establishment who said this would not be painful lied to her. She would probably also go on to say that when they mention they will be leaving “Teflon strips” in your nose you somehow picture a small, flat strip along either side of the septum and never once would it cross your mind that anyone would use the word “strip” to define a thick “Teflon” rubber tube with the circumference of a Big Gulp straw shoved up, sewed on, and effectively holding open your nostrils. No, “strips” make them sound small.
All of the information they give you pre-op stresses the importance of staying ahead of the pain. After her discharge from the hospital, we dropped off Carrie’s prescriptions then I got her all settled at home before returning to the pharmacy to pick them up. Detour to the grocery store for grill cheese fixins, the ultimate sick food and I was back at the house fast ready to whip up a sandwich and administer the first dose. Ah, but the pain Gods had conspired against us so when I got out the prescriptions I noticed the pharmacy had given me someone else’s stuff. A cursory inspection of the primary uses and side effects led me to the conclusion that yes, I would have to go back to the pharmacy because this stuff would in no way begin to ease Carrie's pain and that someone in our neighborhood has a very nasty rash.
The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Carrie mostly nodded in and out of a pain induced sleep. The post-op directions I was forced to sign as her caregiver for the next 24 hours AND the pre-op instructions on what to expect said that saline nasal spray should begin “the day after surgery” but Dr. Carrie did not think this could be right so began spraying a full 24 hours early. Nothing bad happened but I write this because it goes to demonstrate again how different we are when it comes to following the advice of an authority figure. Carrie is her own authority figure where as if I were to start spraying harmless saline up my nose early I would need to be rushed to the emergency room before nightfall as a result of a massive anxiety attack that I broke “the rules”.
Sometime around 4:30 a.m. Saturday, Carrie asked if I would help her get set up downstairs on the couch because the pain was just simply too much for her to bear and the two doses of painkillers she took in the night weren’t working. I gathered her pillows, her tissues, her water with the bendy straw hanging over the top and her bottle of pills. Walking down the stairs I noticed the label said Levaquin not Hydrocodone. Hmmm? Side effects of Levaquin (as published by our friendly neighborhood give-your-prescription-to-someone-else-and-let-them-know-your-deepest-secrets pharmacist) are joint pain and severe headaches. The two very symptoms that had kept Carrie awake all night and had me up at 4:30 a.m. helping her move positions. So much for staying ahead of the pain.
It’s Monday now and although she isn’t feeling much better, her nose is starting to look better. Wednesday they will remove the “strips” and hopefully she will be able to breath a lot easier. Tomorrow I’ll try to share some words of wisdom from the seven circles of trying-to-stop-smoking-cold-turkey hell I have visited this past weekend.
Carrie underwent her surgery on Friday. All went well according to the doctor. Of course how it went is a pretty relative question? For instance, if you ask Carrie how it went she is liable to tell you that it’s possible the surgery went well as she slept through it all but that the recovery really sucks. She might ask you why those members of the medical establishment who said this would not be painful lied to her. She would probably also go on to say that when they mention they will be leaving “Teflon strips” in your nose you somehow picture a small, flat strip along either side of the septum and never once would it cross your mind that anyone would use the word “strip” to define a thick “Teflon” rubber tube with the circumference of a Big Gulp straw shoved up, sewed on, and effectively holding open your nostrils. No, “strips” make them sound small.
All of the information they give you pre-op stresses the importance of staying ahead of the pain. After her discharge from the hospital, we dropped off Carrie’s prescriptions then I got her all settled at home before returning to the pharmacy to pick them up. Detour to the grocery store for grill cheese fixins, the ultimate sick food and I was back at the house fast ready to whip up a sandwich and administer the first dose. Ah, but the pain Gods had conspired against us so when I got out the prescriptions I noticed the pharmacy had given me someone else’s stuff. A cursory inspection of the primary uses and side effects led me to the conclusion that yes, I would have to go back to the pharmacy because this stuff would in no way begin to ease Carrie's pain and that someone in our neighborhood has a very nasty rash.
The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Carrie mostly nodded in and out of a pain induced sleep. The post-op directions I was forced to sign as her caregiver for the next 24 hours AND the pre-op instructions on what to expect said that saline nasal spray should begin “the day after surgery” but Dr. Carrie did not think this could be right so began spraying a full 24 hours early. Nothing bad happened but I write this because it goes to demonstrate again how different we are when it comes to following the advice of an authority figure. Carrie is her own authority figure where as if I were to start spraying harmless saline up my nose early I would need to be rushed to the emergency room before nightfall as a result of a massive anxiety attack that I broke “the rules”.
Sometime around 4:30 a.m. Saturday, Carrie asked if I would help her get set up downstairs on the couch because the pain was just simply too much for her to bear and the two doses of painkillers she took in the night weren’t working. I gathered her pillows, her tissues, her water with the bendy straw hanging over the top and her bottle of pills. Walking down the stairs I noticed the label said Levaquin not Hydrocodone. Hmmm? Side effects of Levaquin (as published by our friendly neighborhood give-your-prescription-to-someone-else-and-let-them-know-your-deepest-secrets pharmacist) are joint pain and severe headaches. The two very symptoms that had kept Carrie awake all night and had me up at 4:30 a.m. helping her move positions. So much for staying ahead of the pain.
It’s Monday now and although she isn’t feeling much better, her nose is starting to look better. Wednesday they will remove the “strips” and hopefully she will be able to breath a lot easier. Tomorrow I’ll try to share some words of wisdom from the seven circles of trying-to-stop-smoking-cold-turkey hell I have visited this past weekend.
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