A month, not even a month. My next doctors appointment is on June 15th and I am anxious. I want to know, if I am on the right track. I feel that I am and hope the results then will back me up. See, my doctors don’t know that I took myself of the medications, I decided not to tell them. I won’t tell them right away either, when I will sit in their office in June. I want to see what they have to say first. I want to see the results of the tests and blood work first. I want to know, if I made progress or if things got worse. If they got worse, well. then I screwed up….big time. But I don’t think so.
Category: <span>Quit smoking</span>
Everybody who smoked once will remember the awful moments, when we looked around and realized that we were out of cigarettes. That’s a smoker’s nightmare. We start to search in pockets and purses, we open drawers and hope to find somewhere another pack. “This can’t be…we can’t be out”.
Every time this happened I wanted one even more. Just the plain thought about not being able to smoke drove me crazy, almost like a panic attack.
A man observed a woman in the grocery store with a 3-year-old girl in her basket. As they passed the cookie section, the little girl asked for cookies and her mother told her no. The little girl immediately began to whine and fuss.
The mother said quietly, “Now Monica, we just have half of the aisles left to go through; don’t be upset. It won’t be long.”


