After I got home from my run and chest pains, I told my wife and she was remarkably calm. But we did decide to call a doctor. In Tunisia, they are fond of house calls and for the price of 40 dollars, I got an American trained, English speaking doctor to come to my house complete with a portable EKG machine. I had told her what had happened and with a pensive “hmm”, she went about her check-up. The blood pressure was 140/100 (high) but everything else was normal, including the EKG. She said that if I had had any episodes with my heart, it would show up in the monitor, but it was healthy. The last test was the blood work that I got done the next day and over the phone she told me that a lot of my levels were too high. She asked a lot of family health questions about stroke/heart conditions etc, but nothing like that ran in my family. So she said that it was most likely my lifetstyle–too much drink and too much smoke.
I knew I was lucky and deep down I wanted to be healthy. But that want to change and the long hours of each evening while trying not to crack open a beer too opposing forces. AA wasn’t a real option since I’m not religious nor was there anything like that in Tunisia (or at least not in English). I also didn’t want to make this public to a group of people and looking back now, I really revere just how brave AA members are. And when I say not wanting to be public, I didn’t share with my wife that I wanted to stop my addictive compulsions.
For the next few weeks, I didn’t stop drinking or smoking, but I thought about it a lot. I became really amazed at just how engrained it had become in my life and life style.
–get home from work-have a smoke
–dinner with wine
–TV after some beer (mixed in with some puffs on the balcony
–perhaps something harder just before bed to help me sleep
And that was just the day to day. What about the weekends that involved dinner parties, afternoon BBQs and the after bike ride beers/smokes with several friends on Sunday mornings. I was entrenched and was looking at Everest. After several weeks of continuing with my habits yet racked with guilt every time I opened a beer or puffed on a smoke with the thoughts that I was going to die, I decided I need to try something. Anything.
I got home on a Thursday after work at about 3pm , and normally i would head to the balcony and have 4-6 drags on my Marboro Light. I wanted to try and hold out on today. I told myself that it was OK to give in but at least try. I was completely out of sorts and did not know how to fill this time without my cigarette hit. I walked around, tried to use my computer and then walked around again. Minutes were like hours and after about 11 minutes, I knew I had to smoke. I got one and went outside to light up. But before I did, I just smelled it and looked at it.
The only difference between being smoker or drinker is that the substance is on the inside of your body and not the outside. As long as it was in my hand on the outside of my body and not in my lungs, I still hadn’t caved. As long as that beer was in the fridge and not in my liver, I still hadn’t caved. Just the act of me bending my arm up to my mouth was what made me consume. But I lit up, and crossed that barrier from outside to inside and from sober to not. I did hold out about 15 minutes and felt the scream from within. I had deprived “it” for 15 long minutes and “it” got upset. But that was 15 minutes longer that I had ever done and 15 minutes of suffering that “it” didn’t like.