This post is sponsored by Nuffnang.
In an act of serendipity kicking my bum, I happened to be offered to write a post for the Quit campaign just a few days ago. It coincided beautifully with this comment, and writing this post.
Heh. Some days, I think the universe may be trying to tell me something. Quit smoking, Lori.
If I'm totally honest, most warnings from the universe, the Quit campaign and my mother fall on my willfully ignorant ears.
"If you keep smoking, you will die."
The big problem with that is, you see, that I am not exactly afraid of dieing right now. Yes, it would break my heart to leave my children. But I'd get to see my husband again, and I can't perceive that being a bad thing.
But I guess the kicker here is that... I might not die. Certainly not straight away. I might live for years, in pain and unable to breath, a burden to those who love me.
Because that's what emphysema does. In fact- lets look at hard facts here- emphysema rots your lungs. And I've probably already got it. In fact, if you're a smoker, then do you.
Not that you believe that. Because one third of us smokers actually think the effects of smoking are over exaggerated.
Uh duh. I hate to say I'm included in this not too-clever group of people. I live in denial of how much I smoke, how bad it is for me, how that cough never quite goes away. How nice it'd be to be able to go for a run without gasping for breath. How old my lungs feel compared to the rest of me.
But I ignore all of that. Because, after all, it won't happen to me.
How many smokers think that?
Me, of all people.... I should know better.