I�m fine for now. No problems. No attacks or shakes. No internal or external conflicts. I�m at peace. I know I can do this, but I know the next 72 hours are going to be a struggle as I go thru the nicotine withdrawal.

Will I be a Dr. Jeckel, the calm, mild mannered, easy going guy transformed to Mr. Hyde, a neurotic / psychotic, raging mad man/killer just because I no longer want to ingest smoke into my lungs? I mean, will it be that bad?

Sandra, my wife, has been losing weight. I�ve seen her struggle with eating habits, but she�s successfully losing. It hasn�t been easy for her, my quitting smoking won�t be for me.
She�s given me good tips to help:
Get more rest and sleep
Exercise
Pray
Keep something in your mouth as a substitute for smoking
Remember too, you might get upset at the least little thing, some people do, not everybody, but I�m warning you, think before blowing up. Understand why you might be getting upset. Is it because you�re going thru the withdrawal, or is it a legitimate concern?
Wean off slowly

All are good suggestions. The last one I�m not so sure about. I�ve decided to quit cold turkey.
I�ve thrown out all the ashtrays, lighters, and matches in the trash. I don�t need reminders lying around.

Friends that have quit suggest using �the patch�. If I need it, I may have to.

It�ll be strange not firing up a cigar every time I start the computer, or read a book. Or wake up.

My wife�s health, as well as my own, is my reason for quitting. The extra $45 a month I spent on smoking will come in handy for other things.

Another thought. Watching our 14 year-old dog die from cancer two weeks ago made an impression too.

Before going to work, I stop at the drug store to pick up a 'Congratulations' card for a couple at work getting married.
I remember Sandra�s advice, �Keep something in your mouth.� I get a shopping cart and walk the aisles.
I get cans of salted nuts, bags of hard candy, a couple of bags of chips and dip. I think about weight gain, and decide to put the chips and dip back.
I go to pay and notice behind the clerk, is a shelf of 'Smoking Aids'. The cheapest is $52.
Gee, I�d save more money buying two boxes of 50 count cigars. It�s cheaper to smoke then it is to quit!
I catch myself, then smile at the thought, the attack is starting already? I expected it to happen, but not this soon. It�s only been 1 � hours since I quit.

Driving to work
I�m approach a yellow light, and stop. I see a homeless guy standing on the street corner. He�s holding a cardboard sign, �Need Help! Thank You, and God bless you!� I see him there everyday. Today I notice he�s got a cigarette in his hand. I'm wondering, has he always smoked and I never noticed before?
Imagine that! He�s homeless, needs food, but he�s got a cigerette. I�ll bet he�d had a home to go to, and have plenty to eat if it wasn�t for his smoking.
I want to remember his face, he�ll not get anymore of my money. No, not to support his habit of smoking. If I can�t smoke, neither can he!
The light turns green. As I pass him, he waves and smiles.
I catch myself again. Another attack has crept up on me, and I didn�t recognize it. I need to pay more attention.

Little did I know, several day later, I'd seriously consider standing on the corner next to him. My sign would read, "Need a smoke! A spare cigar or cigarette will do! Thank you, God bless You!"

I arrive at work. Brent, our computer system analysis is getting out of his car. He has a cigarette in his mouth. I�ve never seen him with out one. He occasionally borrows a cigar from me to tie him over until he can get to the store around the corner to buy a pack.
Maybe I should tell everyone at work I�m quitting smoking. If I get irritable, or easily upset, or worse, go ballistic, maybe people will remember why I might be on edge. Maybe they�d be more forgiving, more supportive, and understanding.

�Brent, I�ve decided to quit smoking.�
�Yeah? Wish I could,� the cigarette tip bounces on his lips as he talks.
I know Brent works two jobs, he�s always hurting for money. I get an idea and tell him, �I figured I�ll save $45 a month by quiting.�

�45 dollars? Ha, I smoke $8 worth a day.�

I do the math, $8 a day for 30 days, that�s�$240 a month? 240 x 12 months a year�$2,880! Gee, I thought I had it bad. I was spending $540 a year.

We see Diana, our General Manager�s secretary standing in the hallway, smoking. We stop, talk. I tell her I�m quiting. She says, �Good for you! I am too, I�m down to three packs a day now. I�m slowly weaning myself off.�
This is not encouraging me. I leave Diana and Brent to smoke.
I�m near my supervisor�s office. Bryan is in. I can tell by the smell of his cigar�s aroma in the hallway.
Of all people I need to tell, it�s especially him, just in case�
I�ve been in his office before, I know the first thing he�ll do is light up a cigar. It calms his nerves. Some days when we have time, he�ll even offer me one. Realizing this, I want to make this meeting quick. Get in, tell him, get out.

As I enter, I do a quick sweep around his desk, see the ashtray with a half smoked cigar. �Morning Bryan!� He�s at his desk, typing something on the computer. He stops and replies, �Morning Al, how ya doing?� He reaches for the cigar. I tell him I�m quitting. His face is pale, �When?� he asks. �Today.� �Why?� He lights up. �My health.� (cough) �I see.� He draws on the cigar trying to get fire into it. �And Sandra�s health, too!� I add. I need to get out of here, the smoke curls around Jerry�s head, it�s blue-gray smoke follows the office jet stream, and it�s making it�s way towards me. I want a smoke! NO, I NEED OUT OF HERE!
�I understand. Would seeing a counselor help� a doctor maybe?�
I�m touched at his offering of help. It�s a side I�ve never seen before, �Thanks Bryan, no. But I�ll keep it in mind.�
�Okay then. I�ve got some paperwork to fill out.�
Taking his hint, I stand. We shake his hands.
I�m out of his office, glad to get away from the smoke. Oh God! The temptation was strong. It would have been so easy to smoke �just one more.� I�m determined I�m going to quit! No more �one more�. Yes, there�s going to be more tempting, I need to remind myself.
I do exactly that for the rest of the day. The five minute break time seemed like an hour. Time dragged all day. I fought the urge to bum a cigarette, a cigar from people several times.
I never did.

It�s late at night as I type this. I want a smoke. Badly! I can still smell the smoke here in my study from the cigar I had ten hours ago.
Writing about smoking makes me want a smoke, but it�s helping me fight back, too.
It reminds me of my goal to quit, as well as the struggle I face, and encourages me.

9/26/03 Woke up this morning. Prayed for strength to met the day�s challenges. Not a desperate craving for a smoke. Not yet, anyway. I haven�t smoked in 16 hours.
Sandra asks �How you doing?� She knows it�s going to be hard for me.

�Fine.� I�m lying. I want a cigar bad.
Scenes from a movie I saw years ago from the French Connection, flash thru my mind.
I remember it had a cop rescuing a young girl. He locks her up in room. For weeks she�s going thru the painful process of heroin withdrawal. The scenes of what she went thru are still vivid in my mind. The agonizing pain in her stomach, the restlessness of walking the floor day after night, night after day, the twisting and turning in bed, the sheet in her fists for something to hold onto, the cravings, the sweats.
I�m not going thru anything like that. Not yet.
Next day. Went to work. Saw homeless people on the same street corner. I don�t see the smoker. Maybe it�s good I don�t. I�d be tempted to bum a cigarette from him. The irony hits. Me asking something of a homeless person.

I go to work. Brent�s getting out of his car, cigarette in mouth. �What are doing here?� he asks.
�I work here!�
�I thought yesterday was your last day�
�Huh? What are you talking about?�
�Bryan sent me the paperwork to take your name out of the system. He said you quit... for health reasons.� �Where�d he get that idea?� Then I remembered. In the rush to get out of his office, I might have told him I was quitting. Did I mention I was quitting smoking, or did I just say 'quitting'. I couldn�t exactly remember.

I find out Bryan�s out of the office this morning, a doctor�s appointment. Talked to Brent about getting me back into the system and on-line. He can�t without Bryan�s okay. I explain the mix up. He lights a smoke as I begin explaining. A smile breaks across his face, he starts having fits of laugher. His face glows crimson, followed by convulsions of intermittent coughing.I notice he�s drawn from the cigarette only twice since he lit it. Another small portion of his $240 a month habit is going up in smoke.
I do some work without the computer.

At 11:30, Bryan�s back in his office. He's surprised to see me. I explained the mix up about my quitting smoking, not my job. He took it well, seemed relieved I�m not leaving. He didn�t light up in front of me.
Work was a slow day. Break time was slower. Tomorrow starts the weekend. At work I stay busy. At home I�ll have too much time on my hands. My hands will want a cigar in them. I pray.

9/27/03 Woke up. Sandra and I work in the yard. I mowed while she pulls weeds. I imagine I�m mowing tobacco fields. The mowed grass smells wonderful. We talk about what to do the rest of the day. The state fair started yesterday, why not go?
I drool thinking about Fletcher�s corny dogs, I could eat a dozen of them. The new specialty foods introduced this year is fried Oreo�s cookies, and ice cream hotdogs (ice cream wiener with a bun of cake). I could probably eat a dozen of those too.

Instead of driving, we decide to take the metro system. It�s smoke free so that will help take my mind off my craving. We need to catch the metro train to Dallas, another over to City Place Station. From there, catch a shuttle that�ll take us the rest of the way.
Simple, and it�ll kill some time.
As we stand in line for tickets, people are smoking. Waiting for the trains, people are smoking, even right up to the last second before boarding the bus.
Ten minutes later, we get off the smoke free bus. As people make their way over to the fair�s admittance gate they light up.
It cost $12 per person to get in. I'm outraged, I have to pay to get in so I can spend more once I get in.

I look over my shoulder to see the skyline of downtown Dallas. A blue-gray fog covers the buildings. Cigarette smoke, or a bad smog day? A code red ozone alert? Then I realize it's another attack sneaking upon me, I'm having a condition RED alert. My mind says, Warning residents of Dallas, Al Speegle is giving up smoking! Stay Clear!

The first building we enter is the new cars on exhibit. Signs everywhere say �No Smoking�. I�m thinking �Wonderful!� until I see a booth in the middle of the showroom floor. In bright red colored letters, standing four feet tall is one word, CIGARS.
We hit the midway. The day is beautiful, sunny. The aroma�s of various foods fill the air. We by-pass the fried corn dogs, ice cream hotdogs and settle for turkey legs and corn on the cob.
It's nice to see people everywhere are having a good time, especially the people that are smoking.
I can't get away from them. I can almost taste each EX-HELL. In fact, I wish I could.

I get to thinking, people can tell when someone is losing weight. They hear the compliment, "Oh, you look so nice!" It's encouraging to hear, to keep striving for the goal.

On the other hand, what's encouraging for people that are trying to quit smoking. Does anybody say, "Oh, you smell so nice!" or "You're teeth aren't as yellow as they usually are! What are you doing differently? Please tell me your secret!"

What can I do for encouragement, something to make me feel good, to measure my success, like losing a pound.
Do I count each time I say 'NO' over the desire for a smoke and give myself a pat on the back.
Complimenting myself at the end of the day doesn't seem to be as rewarding.
Before I gave up smoking, as a reward for some achievement, I'd smoke. Now...Should I compromise?
Now that I see I can go all day without a smoke, maybe I smoke one cigar a day? Let's see 365 days/year divided by 50 cigars in a box equals 7.3 boxes...

WHAT AM I DOING?? ANOTHER ATTACK!! I NEVER SAW IT COMING!!

0928/03
I woke at 9. Time to get up and get ready for church. My first thought was about smoking. Or not smoking. I remembered the time Pastor Bill called for a church wide �day of fasting�. �Our prayers throughout next Sunday will be for unsaved love ones and co-workers, marriages, brothers and sisters that are sick or needing jobs, for all the missionaries and pastors, their work and needs. Finally, for God�s direction and help in decisions for the church. Remember too, fasting doesn�t mean God has to answer our prayers, but it does make us more acute to the needs of others.�

I remembered it�d been a while since I�d fasted the first time, but I knew what to expect: stomach pangs, headache, weakness. All would remind me of my body and its suffering is nothing compared to the needs, and the reasons for the fast. Oh yes, there can be attacks from the evil ones to tempt us, to break us down and take our minds off those needs, and off God. I was ready.

I remembered my first fast ten years ago. I was on my third day without food. My stomach had quit growling, the headache subsided. I was feeling euphoric, praying more, and felt closer to God than I ever had before.

Then the fast 'attack' started.

Steve, a friend I hadn�t seen in five years came by. Sure, I was glad to see him, but did he have to bring my favorite dessert, a German chocolate cake? I didn�t want to tell him I was fasting, but I didn�t want to hurt his feelings either, so I told him I�d eat it later. He ate a piece in front of me, then another, telling me all the places he�d traveled since we�d seen each other last.

From across the table I could smell the coconut and chocolate. I prayed for strength to resist.
He mentioned the exotic foods he�d eaten in Italy. As he described the lasagna, I could almost smell the tomato sauce brewing, imagined it bubbling as it slowly simmered. While Steve talked about the Mexican food at Cozumel, my mouth watered at the thought of the beef fajitas with fried onions and green bell peppers sizzling on the hot plate�

�STOP IT!� It hadn�t been five minutes since I woke and the attacks started. I thanked God for helping me realize what was happening and asked for strength to endure. The thought of food disappeared.

I remembered headed to the bathroom, wondering whatever became of Steve. It�d be just like him to show up of all days while I was fasting. Catching myself with those thoughts I stopped and prayed for him.

It'd be just like Steve to show up now, with a box of my favorite cigars in hand.

I got to thinking about the second time of fasting. That morning, I started brushing my teeth, savoring the mint flavored toothpaste. In the bathtub, my toes poked out the water reminding me of cereal floating in milk. Pouring the liquid soap on the washcloth I thought of white rich creamy icing on a cake. I licked my lips.

�Stop it, get a grip!� I had to tell myself, �Remember the hurts and needs of others! You think you�re suffering by not eating, it�s nothing compared to what they�re going thru.�
Once again, I prayed.

I finished in the bathroom, and had to get my clothes out of the closet, and absent mindedly walked to the refrigerator to get my creamy chocolate liquid diet drink. Opening the door, I saw the slices of ham, with jellied cranberry, and dressing. Realizing my mistake, I slammed the door immediately.
�How could I have been so stupid?� I scolded myself, �Lighten up, it�s a habit.� I prayed while dressing, naming people and their needs.

I prayed while opening two cans of dog food, trying not to think of the aroma and look of the �Chunks of Chicken in Savory Sauce.� The dogs ate heartily. I thanked God for their companionship and health.

I walked pass my study, should I check my email before leaving? Not reading it could be considered a sacrifice �unto the Lord�. Then again, because of my being a writer I might have an email notifying me of an article was accepted for publishing, maybe needed revising, or worse, rejected.
Should I, shouldn�t I. Maybe there�d be a prayer request, I reasoned. It�d be unusual to get one on Sunday morning, but with the whole church fasting you never know. Maybe someone was having as hard a time, too.
I checked. No messages. I resisted the urge to read the news, then thought maybe there�s a world event I should know about to include in the day�s prayers.
I read, scrolled, and clicked. There�s lots to pray about. War, bombings in the middle east, flooding in Florida, a new disease outbreak. I�d never thought to pray while reading the news before, now I was. Maybe fasting does make us more aware. My stomach growled it�s displeasure at the revelation.

I left for church, deliberately taking a different route to avoid passing the doughnut shop I usually visited Sunday mornings. I�d forgotten about the other food places open for breakfast. As I passed the smell of pancakes and sausage cooking, the words �Fast foods� hit me. I laughted at the thought, and gave a �Thank you Lord for a sense of humor.� My mouth watered as I sped up. My stomach said �Amen.� I hoped it�d be the last I�d hear from it, but that would not be the case.

Sitting in Sunday school, our class was discussing John Wycliffe the early Bible translator, and the persecution he and others underwent for their faith. Pastor Bill said, �Just for having an English copy of the Lord�s prayer, even the ten commandments, meant death by burning at the stake.�

My mind told me how horrible it must have been for them. My stomach said, �STEAK?�

�I have a picture,� Pastor Bill continued, �of one man tied to a spit, and roasted over a fire.�

�Oh God, that�s terrible!� I thought. My belly spoke up, �MMMM�STEAK ROASTED OVER A FIRE!�

�Death was their ultimate sacrifice and that�s why we have a Bible today.�

I felt ashamed of myself. Had I, or maybe �We,� gotten so callous to what it truly meant to sacrifice?
Time passed slowly. I recalled praying while fighting my thoughts and pains, concentrating on the teaching. The clock on the wall read, 10:15, �an hour forty-five minutes to dinner� my stomach reminded me.

�No, you�re NOT going to win,� I countered, �I am determined to go without food, like it or not! The reasons are too important, lives are at stea--don�t think it, please don�t think it. Too late, I already had. But it was okay. The rest of the day was like that, �the attacks� hitting me when I least expected them. With each one, I prayed. And prayed like never before.
The church saw some answers to their prayers. Marriages were restored, some of the sick got well, people got jobs. Some results we may never know what happened, at least not in this life time. Only God knows.

In the next days mail, I get the advanced issue of THE DOOR MAGAZINE. In it are four articles I wrote. "Praise God!" My previous record was two in one issue. I wasn't fasting for it to happen, God was blessing a commitment that honored Him.
Quitting smoking and fasting have alot in common. Both require discipline, maintaining a proper attitude/reason for doing it, and much prayer.

09/29/03 Woke this morning. Never once thought of reaching for a smoke. I can boot the computer without looking around for a cigar, ashtray and lighter. Maybe the hardest part is over.

9/30/03 to the present The thrill is gone! No more measurement of time by smoking.

12/29/03 Okay, I have to confess. I did quit smoking. For a month. I got too over confident. My guard came down, I thought the battle was over.
In reality, temptation and lies of self-deceit retreated then advanced at me when I least expected it.
I thought the battle was over. It wasn�t. The real battle has begun. Christmas day. My last cigar. This time for real. I�m now more determined then before.
I�ve learned from my mistakes. And my excuses.
No more, �It�s only one! One ain�t going to hurt. Look how well you�ve hung in there, no cigar for four weeks! You�ve got control now, smoking isn�t your master anymore. I bet you could smoke one every two weeks, just to prove you got a handle on it, you know, just to test yourself.� or �Al, you�re gaining weight since you quit smoking, you need to curb your appetite. Maybe if you smoke a cigar tonight it�ll help not to eat�

The most recent attack is, �New years is coming up. Why not smoke until then, and call it quits next year. Make quitting smoking a new years resolution?�
My answer back is, �I want to end the year right and quit.�

Remember, it�s the little foxes that spoil the haircut.

Feb 24, 2004 - Still not smoking! For Christmas, Sandra gave me a gift certificate to have my teeth whitened. I didn't want to use it until I knew I've stopped smoking. They're looking pearly again!

Dec. 20, 2004. Update: I'm still not smoking. I've been tempted several times this year, but didn't give in. My teeth are the whitest I seen them in years!
Plus, I've saved a ton of money, too!

Dec. 27, 2005 Update: Still not smoking! I still get the urge once in a while, but it isn't as bad as when I first began.

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