A few weeks ago I posted about someone in high dependency at the same time as me, coughing away ... and asking if he could have a cigarette! At that time I said how pleased I was that I'd given up, or that would probably have been me. Well, I'm back in hospital, recovering from another (3rd) emergency operation, and a chap has just wandered along the corridor, attached to a drip, asking a nurse if he and his drip could go outside for a cigarette, so off in the lift he's gone. I'm not being smug because I've given up, as I know it is absolute hell, but - once again - I'm pleased that I'm no longer a puffer because I would have been really suffering and doubt that I could have thought of anything but when I could have the next cigarette. Also not sure how my poor old body would have coped with yet another anaesthetic!
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