>I don't know about you, but slowly being asphyxiated -- and having it
>be my own damn fault -- is really not how I want to die. It sounds
>painful and it sounds really hard. After visiting, my mom called me
>and said, "I'm so glad you quit smoking." And I'm glad too.
Denial is VERY powerful. Denial of the power of tobacco to kill you.
My mom died that way, slowly asphyxiated after almost an entire
lifetime of smoking. That kind of death doesn't happen quickly, it's
a very slow process that kind of creeps up on you. I know that may
sound absurd, but that's how it worked with Mom. From a very vital,
active woman in her prime she slowly, over the course of a decade or
more, slowed down to become a mere shadow of her self.
Mom never stopped smoking and the progression of emphysema is
insidious. Every day you lose just a teeny bit more. Today doesn't
feel a whole lot different from yesterday, but December sure feels
different than January did.
I don't believe Mom's death was physically painful - she was kept
"comfortable" with morphine, but before the morphine took over she
would find herself gasping for breath with the slightest exertion.
That part of death from emphysema was the worst - no pain but the
sheer terror of not being able to get in a breath. That was painful
What turned out to be her last expressed wish was for some watermelon.
It was mid July and she decided that cold watermelon would hit the
spot. I raced to the grocery and bought a package of cubed watermelon
and raced back to her nursing home room. She didn't have the energy
to chew even the tiniest piece. We ended up soaking a sponge in the
juice and wiping her lips with it. That didn't seem to satisfy her,
but it was all she could do.
All because of ****ing cigarettes.
"Why isn't the number 11 pronounced onety-one?"