No more joking!

I quit smoking on March 26, 2013 the same day my mother-in-law started her chemo.

I know, I know…it is a disgusting, nasty, shameful addiction.  I was never proud to be a smoker.  To make this post easier for those who find my habit offensive and vile…I will substitute smoking with ‘joking’ for the rest of my post.

I loved joking.  It was my coping mechanism and my vice.  Needing a joke was an excuse to take a moment for myself.  When people ask me how I managed to get through the last 20 years raising my 3 kids I rarely admitted the truth…joking.  I didn’t actually hide my joking, but I didn’t advertise it either.

I loved joking.  It was an excuse to go outside and be alone.  It meant time for me even if it was only for 2, 5 or 10 minutes.  No one wanted to ‘hear my jokes’ so I would sit in the garage and savor the moments.  When the kids were young, joking was a way to calm down and reset myself.  The kids have grown, become more independent, and the stress levels have dropped. 

Why was I still joking?  I told myself that someday the right reason would come along to encourage me to stop.

I quit joking once for 2 whole years.  I started up again after an especially tragic event happened to one of my children.  Truthfully- the event was an excuse to start again.  I turned to my vice because no one would tell me not to at that time.  Even my husband said he understood. (I have a very patient husband.) 

For the last 12 years I have joked knowing that I would one day need to quit again.  I had done it once before and I knew what to expect.  It sucks rotten eggs!   Those memories are not the best motivators.

Then Grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer.  As I read through the paperwork from her biopsy, a word kept bouncing off the page…

CARCINOGEN

I know jokes contain carcinogens. 

“WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING????”

My mother-in-law is very health conscious. 

She eats right. 
She takes care of herself. 
My mother-in-law has cancer!

I need to at least quit joking.  Eating right and taking care of myself can come afterwards.  So, at 9:30, the morning of her first chemotherapy I joked for the last time.

After her treatment was finished I went straight from the hospital to the drug store and bought “The Patch”.   I had seizures as a child so I can’t take Chantix, and “The Patch” worked for me last time.

I didn’t tell anyone.  If I spoke of it aloud, then others would hold me accountable.  If I went public with my decision- then I had to stick to it. 

My family didn’t notice for 24 hours.  I finally told Kelsey the next afternoon because I realized that if no one knew- I might just start up again.  I told John when he got home from work that night.  I had made it through the first 24 hours and wanted to make sure I stuck with it for another 24.

According to an app I put on my phone- it has been 23 days since my last joke.  I have saved $178. (Jokes are pricey!)  I feel better.  My body is adjusting.  The worst is behind me.   I can’t say I’ll never joke again…but I’m trying my hardest.