How to Stop Smoking. Guaranteed.
If you are a smoker, then by the time you have finished reading this story you will be a non-smoker. There are no catches, there is nothing to pay; it is a straightforward fact. If you want to stop smoking, have your last cigarette now, and come back.
This is the story of a man who died from smoking. A description of the deterioration and final moments is given. It isn’t a pleasant story, but there is a positive outcome - you can avoid dying like this.
My Dad started smoking in his early teens, in the 1950’s when the health risks weren’t so well understood. Dad was probably coerced by his friends, trying to gain some kudos. Maybe adults caught him and told him off. And he probably thought he would gain the image of a cool rebel if he did the exact opposite. Even though the adults were trying to help him.
Pretty soon the chemicals and the kudos caused the addiction. The body tries to normalise the nicotine in the blood stream, by pumping out neutralising natural chemicals – if we take stimulants like nicotine or caffeine, the body pumps out depressants to counteract them. If we take depressants like alcohol, the body normalises by producing stimulants. When the intake of nicotine is cut off, the opposing body chemicals are still there and they then create unpleasant feelings. The feelings of addiction are then remedied by taking more nicotine; and the addict is then smoking just to feel normal again.
I was on holiday when an unexpected call came from my Dad, “I thought I should let you know, I have throat cancer.” He said. “I don’t want to talk about it”. I took it quietly, but after the call the reality rapidly sank in. He might die. How long? Months? Years? How would I feel when he’s gone. Back home, the family discussed it in curiously calm ways.
The next time I saw him, the lump was already very evident, below his right ear. It was growing rapidly – it was a virulent form the doctor had said. Dad took it phlegmatically, “just the stakes are higher” he said as his treatment was planned. The realisation was reaching him in stages. He became more interested in treating the family to meals out. “You can’t take it with you.” He said.
He was soon regularly in and out of the hospital. He endured the hospital waiting lists, with a subdued impatience. He wanted the cures to move faster. They measured him for a protective mask for radiotherapy. His partner was internally distraught, but like my Dad remaining calm on the outside. He was her soul mate, and life, and she dreaded what the future might be. She supported him as his health went into a rapid decline. He was provided with a feeding drip as the growth prevented him from swallowing. His partner pumped liquid food through a tube directly into his