Things have been really intense lately.
Broken pelvis. Broken tailbone.
Morphine. Pain pills. IV.
Walkers. Canes. Wheelchairs.
Rehab. Physical therapists.
Now I'm home, and the excitement is over.
I quit smoking today. I set the goal long ago-- "I'll quit smoking the day after my 23rd birthday."
I actually never really was sure if I was going to do it or not.
But surprisingly, I acted like a robot this morning. I smoked my last cigarette on the front porch, and as soon as I was done, I made my mom drive me to the pharmacy to get Nicorette.
The withdrawal headache is the worst part so far, and the gum doesn't really seem to do anything about that.
I'm having my first piece just now though-- made it through the whole day without it.
Hoping to turn a lot of things around about my life right now. It's hard to stay positive, but I'm doing my best.
That's all I can say for right now.