The author of the article has been a life long smoker from Europe. After moving to the US, and being analyzed with asthma, nearing her middle age, she was trying to quit smoking nearly on everyday basis, but all of the efforts unhappily failed. Nicotine gum and patches didn't work for her, therefore she contacted her doctor, who registered her in a program and prescribed medications, but that didn't her her quit smoking either. What she discovered was that a drastic change of routine worked good in her case. Something humorous approach to a very serious matter recommends that everyone needs to get what works greatly for them, as popular "one size fits all" approach never makes everybody happy.

In the first person: I was born 40 something years ago in Europe, with a cigarette in my mouth. My parents smoked, my relatives smoked, my friends smoked. My father is 82 and still a chain smoker. Smoking is an necessary part of cultural habits, meeting people, and having excitement. For a culture that lives on avenues full of cafes, smoking is not optional, it's nearly compulsory.

I was 13 when I got hooked on cigarettes, enough to start budgeting part of my daily allowance for cigarettes. Mind you, I wasn't an outsider, a straight A learner, from a rich academic family, I was really trying to fit in. At that point, and even several years later, trying to quit smoking was not even in the back of my mind. It will take me 30 more years to get to that point.

Novelist by profession, smoking was very much a part of my everyday routine. It was accurately like it used to be in the old black and white movies - me, the typewriter, and the big ashtray with the cigarette butts heaped up high. Soon after I moved to the US, the problems with my smoking resulted. They were not simply of social nature any longer; they became a health concern also. Not only did I move to the Bay Area, California, which was the undoubted leader in the witch hunt on smokers, I was diagnosed with asthma.

I could say from that moment on, 15 years before, I was trying to quit smoking on an everyday basis. There was already a severe change in place for me - I couldn't smoke at my office any more and I had to time my smoking habits according to the office timetable. It was difficult at home since my associate, an American, was a smoker too.

We decided to only smoke outside the home. That didn't work at all, since, sadly, it's California, the climate is lovely year around, so we both finished up only sleeping in the house, while living, eating, having friends over on the back yard patio. It's astounding with how much yard work you can invent - our postage stamp sized back yard became more like a jungle with heirloom tomatoes, tea roses, sweet peas, and citrus trees.

I lastly quit smoking cold turkey. Two years afterward, with a new lease on life, I'm proud to say - I haven't had a cigarette since. I know it very well: once an addict, always an addict and I had my share of night sweats, nightmares, inevitable shivers, uncontrollable crying. But I can always say it was caused by my divorce drama, not nicotine. Every now and then, during lunch break in the fiscal area, I stop by someone smoking in front of their office building. Second hand smoke still smells so nice.

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