April 2008 - Posts
THE last few days have been a real, hard slog. I'm bored - bored of being a non-smoker.
I'm running out of ideas to keep myself occupied.
In truth, I've been craving a cigarette like there's no tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I've been quick to stuff anything into my mouth that's guaranteed to blur my curves.
Yesterday (Saturday), I drove friend Sarah and my daughter, Fern, to Dorchester. The aim of the mission was to spend loads of money, in my on-going quest to keep occupied.
Spend money I certainly did, but I also headed straight for a restaurant! As soon as I slapped a pay-and-display ticket on the windscreen of my car, I slapped a few centimetres onto my waist. I was suddenly 'starving'.
A chicken and bacon panini later (not to mention half my daughter's All Day Breakfast), I felt like a stuffed turkey as I waddled towards the town centre.
I optimistically bought loads of clothes in a size, I feel certain, I won't be able to fit into in a couple of weeks' time!
In a bid to overcome the 'old prune face' factor, I splashed out on yet more anti-wrinkle creams, loads of make-up and plenty of fake tan.
If I don't look like I've got that 'holiday glow' by tomorrow, I'll be gutted.
Special offers worth mentioning: I bought a Max Factor glitter-style mascara (for my daughter) for £9.99 in Boots and got a £5-off voucher for selected skin care products. I redeemed it immediately for a TIMEDELAY starter pack, normally priced £7-odd. I got it for £2-something. The creams are brilliant. I feel seven days younger at this precise moment in time but hope, with continued use, a few years will be knocked off by the end of next week! Stay tuned.
Rimmel Cool Matte 16-Hour Mousse Foundation is on offer in Superdrug for £5.99. I'm not sure it's heavy enough for my haggard old face but, for an 'in' product, the price is good. Stay tuned.
The real 'discovery' of the day was Max Factor's Lipfinity. It's around £8-a-go but, I'm so impressed with its staying power, I bought two! Brilliant for somebody like me, who's out the door at 7.50am and regularly not home again until 9pm. My handbag's bulging at the best of times (council agendas, notebook, pens and camera) so make-up is something I definitely can't be bothered to carry around. Mind you, I think it's about time I slipped in a hairbrush!
Bargain of the day: a fantastic print top (with back tie), reduced from £14 to £3 in Peacocks. I LOVE the New Season stuff in Peacocks, but was disappointed that many items in my size (10 to 12) had sold out. I'm going back for new stock next week - before I'm a size14 to 16!
Skin care: Clean and Clear 2-in-1 facial scrub and mask - BRILLIANT, for me and for my daughter. Well worth whatever I paid for it, around £4.
Brand names: Playboy duvet and pillowcase set for my daughter - £21.99 in Argos. The deep pink has lifted the look of her bedroom, although I'm not relishing the thought of buying the rest of Playboy's range... It's not cheap!
My daughter and I got loads of new clothes. Bargain basement make-up came from a cheap shop (not as good as This and That, in Bridport). It will keep us busy, experimenting with different looks, for a few weeks.
My mate, Sarah Tait, formerly of Charmouth, is only 23. She has been a fantastic help in steering us towards what's 'in' at the moment.
I finished off our trip to Dorchester with a visit to Iceland (the shop). I came away with so much stuff I struggled to carry it to the car (Sarah and Fern had already gone back with the clothes and make-up).
Dragging at the bottom of one of the freezer bags was a bottle of imitation Malibu (Palm Beach - £4). After dropping off Sarah's shopping, we went back to mine, ate quite a few pork chops (£2.50 for a whole tray) and polished off the Palm Beach.
It was such a lovely, warm day... The sun was out and we bought a lot of clothes only suitable for warm weather.
Today, the morning after the day before, my daughter is wearing crop, white jeans and a summer top - and I'm almost in a bikini. The sky's a sickening colour of grey and drizzle is virtually upon us...
I'm still desperate for a cigarette!
BEAUTY pundits often extol the merits of water. They banter on about the bland stuff, hyping it up to be the ultimate elixir of youth.
I’m not a great water drinker, myself. Hence, I’ve always been ugly. And, since I’ve given up smoking, I’m not a great fan of anything liquid.
Whereas once I’d have a glass of Merlot in one hand and a cancer stick in the other, these days I struggle to swallow sips of coffee.
You see, I’ve gone off fluids. I can’t gulp them down like I used to.
Whatever passes my lips is preferably solid. Stuff that’s sweet, packed full of calories and guaranteed to bring me out in spots – that’s what I like.
Yes, I know, it’s all terribly bad for one’s waistline and complexion. What the hell, after 21 years of being a smoker, my hairline wrinkles are bound to develop into cracks of earthquake proportions. In fact, I bet my face will resemble the Grand Canyon, or a walnut at the very least, in no time – especially as I’m not a plain water drinker.
What can a girl drink instead?
I don’t fancy a pro-biotic tipple. Yuck! The thought of swallowing yoghurt like a can of Stella churns my stomach.
They may be trendy, but I’m not that struck on Smoothies either.
I’ll just have to stick with cola, the old faithful. If ever I’m feeling ‘good’, maybe I’ll stretch to a diet version of the stuff.
My enthusiasm for typing any more today has suddenly fizzled out….
IN a week that has seen me get married, become a victim of crime and be tossed about on umpteen funfair rides, could things get any WORSE?
Anybody watching the CCTV monitor outside the ghost train tunnel on Weston's Grand Pier last Sunday would have seen me screaming my head off, hands waving like an evangelist. I was 'letting it all out', anonymous, in the comfort of complete darkness. I was wailing for England - and the headless corpses and skeletons that jumped out of the blackness to scare me had nothing to do with it. Honest!
I was letting out my frustrations. It's a frustrating thing, you see, becoming a non-smoker. There are easy days and there are bad days. You'd think, after six weeks of abstinence, I'd be over the worst. Sadly, no!
The shocker is that every day is 'the worst', just lately. I'm an addict and, on bad days, don't I just know it!
Right now, at this very moment, I'd kill for a cigarette. Thank God it's just me, home alone, in my kitchen! (Where's this 'husband', when I need one?)
Luckily, I've got my inhalator. Re-charged, with a fresh cartridge, it's taking the hardest battering of my SmokeStop efforts, so far.
I'm on the second cartridge of the day - the most ever.
I've tried to keep myself occupied. I've published at least five exclusive stories on our website and I've been on a trip out into the country.
The thought of venturing from the rural to ultra-rural was good. Yeah, I was going to motor out into the countryside and stake my claim to the most remote of 'remote' outposts on my patch.
Great idea, bad timing... With Primal Scream keeping my Nicotine Dream alive, the vibes of Country Girl continuing to invade my airwaves, I was still in the grip of the surreal when I finally arrived in the village.
Left. Right. U-turn. Three point turn. Left. Right. Left again...
Oh dear! Why are developers allowed to build massive estates in villages?
It was a scarier ride than the ghost train. Especially when I reached a dead end and was faced with a massive gargoyle, plonked smack-bang in the centre of somebody's front garden! If I was in the grounds of a stately home I might expect such a sight, not on Starter Home Way!
I've survived the day without smoking. It's been hard but, at least, there was some good news...
The Midweek Herald has been short listed for a major industry prize.
Puff on that, rivals!
ONE of these days, I'm going to wake up and think the events of a dream are true. As one of our proof readers has pointed out - just make sure none of it ends up in the paper!
While my fellow quitter Heidi insists on removing her nicotine patch at night - to avoid nightmares - I'm showing my rebellious streak by keeping mine on. Not that I like nightmares, you understand... I just haven't had any.
What I'm experiencing is plain strange: short, extremely vivid dreams. They are of the kind that you can't change, no matter how hard you try to re-wind and start again. They show one scene each and nothing either side.
Last night's was a classic. I was at the altar in St Paul's (Honiton) and I said "I do". There was a man standing next to me and he also said "I do". I saw Reverend Roberts in front of us and I realised I was getting married. When I looked at the man's face, I saw that my 'husband' was Stuart Bavington (bass player - Repomen/Bleat), formerly of Sidmouth. We went out together for three years when we were in our late teens.
If that wasn't surreal enough, he instantly broke into song and people we knew as teenagers appeared playing violins in punk style. I could also hear drums, but I didn't see any.
He sang: "What can a poor boy do?"
Then I sang: "Better go back to your Moma, she'll look after you!"
Singing with me at one point was Taina Wells, of Sidmouth. Stuart's brother Greg sang and played a guitar. Dom and Giles were playing the violin.
How weird is that? Even stranger, when I woke up this morning I heard the same words again - it was Primal Scream's song Country Girl.
I bumped into Taina in Sidmouth the other day and I believe this chance meeting prompted that particular dream.
Because I couldn't see either side of the one scene, my dream didn't tell me what I really needed to know - was I a smoker or non-smoker?
THE thought of an alien landing on Roundball Hill was never likely to fill me with dread - or encourage me to light up.
Vandals, however, are another story... I'm afraid I'm writing this two days after having a cigarette ripped from my grasp. Only the quick-thinking of my daughter saved me from reverting to smoking. This is how it nealy all went wrong...
After hearing that every ride on the Grand Pier at Weston-super-Mare was free last weekend, my daughter and I made the 100-mile round trip to check it out. The weather was wet and windy, but all the rides were indoors and we had a great time. We arrived home in Lyme Regis at around 3pm. I nipped indoors briefly before we headed for the corner shop. With rain forecast for the rest of the day, we decided to buy some treats before snuggling up in front the telly. We were gone for about 10 minutes.
When we arrived home, I spotted a group of youths hastily retreating from my drive. I immediately noticed the rear windscreen wiper on my beloved red Ford Escort had been pulled away from the glass and bent over. Part of the wiper was just hanging. I was fuming. Last summer, my garden was trashed and my house entered while I was on holiday. Youths were to blame and some of them were back, this time to vandalise my car!
I jumped out of my new Corsa, took a photograph of the damage and drove straight to Lyme Regis Police Station. I've had enough, you see. The station was closed and I couldn't reach anyone using the station's outdoor phone. My daughter and I passed the gang of youths on our way to the station. They appeared to be heading for the corner shop.
Sick of being targeted by idiots with nothing better to do, I decided to take the law into my own hands (sort of). I drove to the corner shop, instructed the one youth stood outside to "Get inside" and then I went in and shut the door. He was protesting "I can't go in, I'm banned!" I wasn't having any of it!
"Nobody is leaving this shop until I know who has vandalised my car," I screamed. "And I want the police - NOW!" I was blocking the door, so the youths had no option but to grass up the culprit. They couldn't give him up quick enough. Poor Sue, the shop owner, looked a bit taken aback by the commotion, but she got dialling straight away. She tried to call police three times, but was using an old number, and the culprit legged it, while his pathetic mates stood around muttering "Sorry, Belinda." Sorry's not good enough!
When I eventually got home, I was none too pleased to find the alleged vandal back on my drive - this time having bent the wiper the other way, presumably to 'mend' it. I tried to explain I don't want him, or any of his friends, anywhere near my house. When will they get the message? How about, I go around to their houses and do to their parents' property what they do to mine and see how THEY like it?
So, yes, I went indoors, grabbed a cigarette and was about to light it when my daughter intervened.
I came so close.
On Sunday we returned to Weston-super-Mare and enjoyed a brighter day by the sea - with plenty of free rides!
ALIENS have purportedly landed on one of East Devon's most prominent landmarks, Roundball Hill, and I'm still not tempted to light up.
As my reporter investigates the claim, I'm sat behind my desk quite confident that any UFO sighting will be quickly explained away. Watch this 'space' to find out!!
For anyone about to reduce the strength of their Nicotine Replacement Therapy, don't worry. I did - and for nothing. After five weeks without a cigarettes, the reduction was painless. I was light-headed for an hour or so, but that was it. No terrible cravings. No urge to fail.
Beam me up Scotty!
THE switchover from full to medium strength patches wasn't an arduous ordeal. If anything, the strange taste I've had in my mouth has eased and I feel very positive about remaining a non-smoker. I didn't use the inhalator more often, either. I was convinced I would.
According to my SmokeStop nurse, I'm not actually classified a proper non-smoker yet - not by the medical profession. Presumably, that recongition will come when I'm off nictotine replacement therapy?
Apparently, I'm through the worst of withdrawal symptoms. I figured that. I'm not cleaning my house quite so much and, when I sit down on an evening, I'm not in too much of a hurry to get back up again. I need a bit of a kick-start.
I'm the proud driver of a brand new car. It looks exactly the same as the one I've been driving around in for the past three months - except it's got an eye-catching registration plate. It was delivered with four miles on the clock.
I've got a busy day planned, so no time to waste...
WELL, the lower strength patch is attached to my upper torso.
I was a bit shocked when I took it out of its wrapper - it looked considerably smaller than the full-strength version.
Nevertheless, it seems to be doing its job. I feel fine; a bit light-headed, but nothing more untoward than that. I've got the inhalator as back-up.
I'll be taking in a lot of calories today. I've just polished off the last of my Italian tiramisu - and been handed a box of continental truffles by an appreciative reader. Good job I'm going to be flat-out busy this morning.
Hopefully, collecting new car from Exeter office at lunchtime-ish.
Dreams. I seem to have had one every night since becoming a non-smoker. They are extremely vivid, but quick to fade. Hence, I wrote one down as soon as I woke up the other day. Brace yourself...
I dreamt I was the proud owner of the latest kitchen innovation - a sink that doubles up as a slow cooker. I saw a big curry bubbling away in the sink and myself stirring the mixture with a wooden spoon. Unfortunately, the plug came out and the curry mixture drained away, leaving lumps of meat behind. It looked awful.
TODAY'S the day I'm being prescribed lower strength nictotine patches.
By this time tomorrow, I'll either be as I am now (comfortable with being a non-smoker) or tearing my hair out. Which one will it be?
Luckily, tomorrow is the day I'm getting a brand new car. Yes, not that I'm one to boast, but I'll probably be pretty busy posing around the district behind the wheel. So, hopefully, no time for cravings.
I'm seeing my SmokeStop nurse at 4pm today. I can't believe I have been a non-smoker for five whole weeks. Neither can I believe the size I have ballooned to. Even my daughter had to look away in disgust last night. I haven't got a belly - I've got TWO!
As I was driving into work this morning, I contemplated joining Honiton Running Club. Unfortunately, the club's training night clashes with Honiton Town Council meetings - so, perhaps, not. Maybe, I could stroll around the perimeter fence of the airport during lunchtimes instead?
I was awake at 2am today - munching a Twix! I didn't suffer a craving for a cigarette, just chocolate.
I'm only using the inhalator very occasionally now, mindful that later this week my patch strength is to be reduced. The reduction will be a real test, mainly because I'm worrying about it already.
My confidence suffered a blow last Friday. I arrived at my desk to find the latest edition of the company Butt Bin Rota plonked on my keyboard. I was listed to empty all the cigarette butts from the bin on May 1. I scribbled "I've been a non-smoker for nearly five weeks" across the schedule and promptly pushed it under the door of the person who'd devised it. When I followed up my note with a personal visit later in the day, I was told: "It's such a hard habit to break, and you're not down until May 1. You could be smoking again by then."
Let me assure everyone, I will NOT be smoking again by May 1!
In my efforts to keep busy, I took my daughter to Sidmouth at the weekend. We looked around the town centre, enjoyed an evening meal in The White Horse cafe and visited Lidl before heading off to the theatre. Creative Cow presented a flawless version of Harold Pinter's weird, but wonderful, one-act play The Lover. The acting was so good, my daughter and I didn't fidget once - even though there was no interval.
The following day (Sunday), we decided to browse around a car boot sale. We headed off to Exeter, remembering there used to be one at the cattle market. Could we find it? No! Stuck in traffic on Marsh Barton we couldn't miss bright yellow signs for Steptoe's Market. People seemed to be milling around the entrance and we were intrigued. I can't say much more, except it was quite an experience; like going back in time to junk shops of yesteryear.
There's a little something I have neglected to impart over the past five weeks... Before becoming a smoker, I was a chronic hayfever sufferer. Unfortunately, when you give up smoking, the dreaded symptons return. So, when I was nibbling away at my Twix this morning, I was doing so with itchy, watery eyes and in between plenty of sneezes!
A-tishoo!
I WAS up bright and early, ready for a jaunt into the countryside. I've been to a place that enjoys spectacular views from an unlikely vantage point in isolated, rural seclusion. I was there for work, of course, but enjoyed taking in the clean, fresh air. I suspect, given my recent Peak Flow reading, that my lungs are capable of taking in more air now than they were a month ago.
Back then, I seemed to have a permanent 'bubble' in my throat. It was as though it was hindering the amount of air I could breathe in. That 'bubble'/barrier has gone.
Nothing came of the 'frog' in my throat. So, I'm still waiting for my lungs to start ejecting 'debris'.
I read through some more SmokeStop literature last night. Here's some advice for anybody who thinks they are on their way to becoming a non-smoker by simply "cutting down"... In the vast, vast majority of cases, this method is unsuccessful. Experts say it is often best to stop smoking completely - and to use nicotine replacement therapy for the first three months. Habits can be broken over a period of 12 weeks, while nicotine replacement helps reduce side effectes caused by withdrawal.
I'm feeling a bit restless today, but know I've got to get my head down and crack on with a lot of typing. Maybe, I'll get some nosh in first - that way, I won't have to break the flow later on. I've got an awful lot to do.
Co-op, here I come!
I CAN'T imagine myself as a smoker. Although I was a heavy smoker just a month ago, the habit is a rapidly fading memory.
Today, when I was buying a chicken and mayo baguette and an iced bun in a baker's, I saw a lady I've known all my life. My abiding memory of her, as I was growing up, was of her walking down the garden path with a cigarette in her mouth. After choosing the baguette, I was stalling over 'seconds'. There was so much to pick from and, in all honesty, did I really need a cake? I was just telling myself that a raw carrot would be better for me - and cheaper - when I blurted out: "You can tell I've given up smoking!"
The lady replied: "I know, I've been reading all about it." She said she is in the process of preparing to totally quit. She says she's been trying. I hope she makes it. What an achievement it would be, after all those years of being a smoker.
I do, sometimes, feel that there's something missing in my life. Occasionally, I catch myself almost at a loss for something to do - even though I've got loads to do. It's like I'm looking for something to plug a gap in between tasks.
It was only after I gave up smoking that I realised I had been living my life in bite-size stages. It dawned on me when I came through the front door at the end of my first day as a non-smoker. I had shopping. I realised that I was accustomed to smoking a cigarette immediately. I'd then unpack the shopping and, afterwards, light another cigarette. I probably wouldn't even take my coat off until I was on a third cigarette. It was as though I was marking the start and finish of individual tasks; like I couldn't get anything done without a surge of nicotine.
All in all, I've realised how much time I WASTED standing around stinking the place out with smoke and damaging my health. Smoking is a time waster, all round!
Wear your patch with pride!
THE day before I gave up smoking, my 'peak flow' was recorded at 220. I have been taking prescribed steroids to help keep my airways clear for 10 years.
This week, my 'peak flow' was recorded at 400, which is the best it has been for at least a decade.
ENJOYING a busy week, with few distractions.
I didn't use the inhalator at all yesterday (Monday). However, I've started to develop a 'frog' in my throat. Is this the start of the 'cough' - the process of clearing tar and other debris from my lungs? It is predicted in most support literature, but I have yet to experience it. Bring it on!
I'm also still waiting to develop mouth ulcers but, considering I've spent a small fortune on toothpastes and brushes, I shouldn't suffer too badly.
So far today, I've eaten about 10 digestive biscuits and a piece of birthday cake (not mine). I promise, I'll only eat raw fruit and cooked vegetables for the rest of the day!
Midweek has gone to press and I've just subbed two pages of the Exmouth Journal. Shortly, I'll be going home - and preparing for a night job. I'm lucky to have a busy job, because it has done wonders to keep my brain occupied during the difficult first month of my SmokeStop programme.
On to month two...
Although I was very busy on Friday, it was one of those days when I got little done. Hence, I'm in the office on a Sunday! This is not a regular happening.
My daughter and I had a fantastic day yesterday (Saturday). We went to Cribbs Causeway in Bristol. We walked for, what must have been, miles. Mostly, we were window shopping. But we did invest in yet more toothpaste, some make-up and a flea collar for our cat. We enjoyed lunch at KFC, did plenty more walking and then headed off to a supermarket opposite the mall.
The first thing I clapped eyes on was a middle-aged woman, stood outside the store's main entrance - SMOKING! She cut a lonely figure and looked ever so slightly embarrassed as shoppers filed past her, flashing condescending glances in acknowledgement of her addiction. I couldn't help but think that I was her just a few weeks ago.
Remember my pulsating new toothbrush? What a bargain that turned out to be! My teeth are the cleanest - and whitest - they've ever been. I bought it, on offer, at Tesco in Dorchester for just under £3. That was a week ago. At another supermarket, in Bristol, the same toothbrush was just under £6.
I'm not the most confident driver when it comes to big cities and those countless, multi-lane roundabouts. In my previous life, I would have stopped short of each junction and smoked two or three cigarettes before even attempting to negotiate them. Yesterday, I had no such prop. I'd even left my inhalator at home. Hence, on the way out of Bristol, I drove into the wrong lane and ended up being sidelined to a rural part of the city.
Rather than turn around and re-attempt the roundabouts, I just kept going. To my daughter's great excitement, we ended up near the Severn Bridge - right next to the three, strangley beautiful wind turbines we'd admired on our way into the city. Modern landmarks, they stand in the heart of an industrial area - an area my daughter and I both remarked resembled a potential crime scene. With its eerie expanses of wasteground, empty lorry parks and quiet roads, it's the kind of place a murderer might choose to dump a body. We kept our eyes peeled - just in case!
Soon, it was back to reality. Before we knew it, the road rejoined the M5 and we were on our way home. The sun was shining and I seriously doubted snow forecast for today (Sunday) would come to anything. I was wrong, of course! But, bathed in the dying rays of the afternoon sun, I felt as though I was driving at the end of a summer's day. "Let's walk along the seafront at Burnham-on-Sea," I said to my daughter as we approached the junction. She wasn't interested.
In a Superdrug bag on her lap was a pair of tweezers. Her first. She said she wanted to go home and practise plucking her eyebrows. The result is another story!
Wear your patch with pride!
WHAT a busy day! I've been out of the office three times, so far, and will be going out again as soon as I get a phone call.
I was a bit of a piglet this morning, munching a BLT sandwich, followed by jelly, custard and cream (in a fancy pot) before 9.30am. But, with all the rushing around and walking about, I'm sure I'll work the calories off between now and dinner at 6pm.
At the weekend, I treated myself to a new pulsating toothbrush, super whitening toothpaste and a mega-strong mouthwash. Now that I'm a non-smoker, I want nice teeth. Getting over my fear of dentists, however, will be another hurdle. I usually only go to a dentist for extractions. I have to be in dire agony and I always go private - so I can be seen immediately, while I'm in the right frame of mind. Never mind root canal work, I want the quick and easy option - tooth removal!
Just thinking about dentists gives me the willies.
No major cravings today. Haven't used the inhalator.
My patch strength is being reduced the week after next.
Heidi remains smoke-free, too.
A BADGE of honour - that's my nicotine patch!
After more than three weeks without a cigarette, I'm starting to see myself as a non-smoker.
Unfortunately, I'm also seeing myself as a bit of a porker. I've just waddled up through Honiton High Street, feeling decidedly larger than I did a week ago. It could be my imagination, but either my trousers have shrunk around the waist in the wash or I've piled on a few pounds.
Having just munched my way through a pasty and a cream cake, I think I should make a commitment to exercise more and watch what I eat.
I'm not going back to smoking, so I'd better get my food steamer back out and bulk-buy some veg.
Wear your patch with pride!
I have enjoyed the easiest days, so far. Hardly any cravings and little need for the inhalator.
My daughter and I spent Saturday in Dorchester. You guessed it, spending even more money!
Sunday, we went to Ferne Animal Sanctuary on the Devon/Somerset border and enjoyed a quiet, but brisk, walk around the charity's nature trail. In the afternoon I cleaned my hire car, because it's going back on Monday. I actually enjoyed the work. My poor old Escort never got such attention.
I'm on deadline - and I'm not stressed. How's that for progress?
I can do it!