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Comment by gerdesj | Hacker News Reader

Obviously the wondrous collection of vapours as you smoke them is not implicated.

You grab a fag and stuff it in your gob. Fire it up. Two inches or so soon disappears. The last inch lingers a bit until you get that slightly rubbery taste that indicates its over. You might continue anyway for a while - suck/savour (hot n nasty)/blow.

Been there. For 30 years. Five years ex-smoker but some damage done and not too sure how much.

Worrying about the effect of stubbing out on your own health is nonsense and ridiculous - who cares whether asbestos fibres are whole or dust after stuffing the bloody things in your gob? At that point you are endangering everyone in breathing range.

Anyone who finds breathing normally a bit of a challenge sometimes or always will soon disabuse you of one or two ideas.

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This is ultimately what killed my father: 45 years of smoking until one day in 2017 when he quit cold turkey and never picked up another cigarette. By that time the damage had been done. He had severe COPD. He was well passed the point of being a viable lung transplant candidate. He wouldn't survive the surgery. Besides, he already battled a litany of health issues stemming directly from smoking.

Fast forward to last year. His ability to breath normally was already a distant memory, and his ability to breath in any capacity without a struggle had become the new normal. After an evening in the hospital, I picked him and Mum up before a quick detour to the medical supplier in town to pick up... oxygen cylinders and a concentrator. About four months later his condition had deteriorated enough that his GP suggested hospice. A year after this initial but rapid decline and he was gone.

COPD is irreversible. It can be slowed, maybe even halted for a time, but it is impossible to reverse.

I'm glad you quit. You may have quit early enough to maintain a normal life. Regardless, I'm proud of you for taking that important first step.

For anyone else reading this who may be a smoker: Please, I implore you, consider quitting today. I know how the story ends. I've seen it first hand.

Cheers mate.

I can still run and walk up steep slopes so all good so far. I'm 53. I am about in fair shape for my age.

I feel your pain and I know I have pained my own family and friends too in the past and I am ashamed for that.

Giving up the fags is hard, really hard but possible.

You're in good shape then! By the time my father quit, the most he could do was shuffle about.

And you're absolutely right—it's hard to give up. I still remember the conversation he had with his pulmonologist. The doctor asked "So what made you choose to quit?"

Dad said "I decided to. It was a conscious choice that I wasn't doing this any more."

The doctor looked at him, smiled, and said "That's exactly right."

I'd guess you went through the same process: It's a choice. False starts to quit are simply an exercise in kicking the can down the road. Actually quitting is a conscious, decisive effort. The only other people on the planet who know what it's like are those who have suffered addiction. The rest of us? We truly don't know what you have to go through when you quit.

"The rest of us? We truly don't know what you have to go through when you quit."

You have had to deal with the fallout and loss. My mum died from cancer when I was about 25. It was a female only variety - I forget the exact name. She had an initial onslaught which was diagnosed in reasonable time, an operation that she described as "quite unpleasant" and a course of radiotherapy. I should probably point out that "quite unpleasant" is a euphemism.

... remission ... all clear ... ... oh sorry its back ... palliative care. Funeral.

Losing a parent early is horrible, even when you are nominally grown up. You should have at least 20-40 years as an adult with your parents, if only so they can ram the point home about what responsibility really looks like as you foist your ankle biters off on the oldies so you can get some respite.

Sorry, we were discussing the fall out from addiction. Yes, it is horrific. Your dad gave up and that is quite an important thing. That shows he tried to do his best for himself and especially - his family. He was old enough and ugly enough to know exactly what was happening ... and he did his best, his very best: that I am sure of.

Absolutely correct on all points, my friend.

It's unpleasant to see the eventual culmination of things you knew would eventually come to pass despite pleadings to the contrary. I'm blessed to have been able to help Mum take care of him in his latter days. Even still, despite his advanced age (75), he was still young enough to technically have 5-10 good years left to enjoy life had he not succumbed to such addiction in his 20s. But, he did everything he could to the best of his abilities, as you said. I've a lot of notes to eventually go through on some hobbies of his that I will one day dig into. The one blessing with this is when they have ample time to get their affairs in order and share things they wanted you to know.

I understand this probably sounds a bit morbid, but it's life, isn't it? It's a good reminder to us all that what we have while we're here on this Earth is incredibly fragile and we need to cherish this gift as long as we are able.

Growing up, you always hear those tidbits of wisdom: Enjoy stories from your elders, because they won't be around forever. In youthful arrogance it's easy enough to laugh it off. Being older, though, you appreciate more. I'm grateful to have had the conversations that I did. I also have a deeper appreciation of some folks around Dad's age I've gotten to know over the last few years from church. Funny how things like this can help your perspective evolve over time...

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