October 4, 2006

• Choices

  A Xanga friend posted some good thoughts on smoking today and it led me to consider my own beliefs on the subject, which are quite different.

  True, it's an incredibly stupid thing to start, for sure, but like a lot of folks my age, I WAS stupid (and young) when I lit up for the first time.  It didn’t take too long before it became a habit -- and I discovered for myself that the addiction of smoking is real as hell.

  I’ve managed to quit twice, for two completely different reasons, but both times were followed by life-shattering events that made me feel as if I was going to fly into a million little pieces, and I lit up again because there were things to be done and I didn't know how else I might become calm enough to do them.  Did it  help?  Absolutely!  So now when I ponder on this subject, I usually end up asking myself if I'd rather live to be 85 all crippled up with arthritis or maybe incontinent and in a state of dementia -- or die a lot younger having found a skosh of peace during the years I had. 

  We're all gonna die from something.  The human body is not designed to last forever and I've accepted that.  Might as well; can't change it.  I've seen a lot of folks suffer crap a HELLUVA lot worse than death in my lifetime, i.e. stuck in a wheelchair or tied to a bed in a nursing home, wearing blank stares and diapers, eating Pablum or worse, and drooling down their respective chins for years on end.

  Unfortunately, thanks to our rather absurd penchant for keeping people alive as long as possible regardless of the QUALITY of life, the words John Mellencamp sings are entirely too real:  "Life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone."

  (I used to nag my mother, who was an alcoholic, to quit drinking because she was killing herself.  And she did quit, finally.  But you know whut?  She was a mere shell of a person after that.  There was no life left in her.  How I wish now with all my heart that she could have lived those final years doing what SHE wanted to do.)

  So I'm pretty much of the opinion that people who smoke know the risks and they are the only ones who can/should decide whether they wanna keep smoking or try to quit and eventually die of something else.  (However, having said that, it’s also my opinion that smokers should not inflict their “exhaust” on others in homes, workplaces, restaurants, et. al.)

  My children and grandchildren frequently nag me to quit smoking -- or else cast dire looks of disapproval when I excuse myself to go outside for a smoke.  And you know whut?  I am ecstatic that they do not smoke!   I love them all even more than my life and would do absolutely ANYTHING for them -- except live MY life by THEIR standards.  Under no circumstances do they have the right to ask me to do that. (And under no circumstances will I ever allow them to take care of me when I am old and unwell.)  I have earned the right to make my own choices, and if I am diagnosed with cancer, I shall choose to call Hospice to help me die as gracefully as possible.  No remorse.

  --------------------

  On a closely related subject, and as more humorous food for thought, I leave you with an alleged recent quote from Willie Nelson when he was caught a week or so ago with (gasp!) a bag of weed on the bus:

  "It's a good thing I had a bag of Marijuana instead of
  a bag of spinach. I'd be dead by now."

  
  

  • 1:38 pm
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