Call me Patch Adams

Well, a few of you know that one of the things I had to do pre-surgery (6 days and counting!) was to quit smoking. Well, I had set my start date for this week. I figured I'd start a week ahead of time to ease into the process, rather than deal with skinpeeling nicotine cravings whilest trying to recover from massive surgery.
Oh, for those of you wondering why quitting was necessary for this, smoking impedes the healing process, as it thins your blood a bit too much for real clots to form, thus lengthening the time a wound takes to close. When you smoke while recovering from oral surgery, you risk a horrid condition called Dry Socket, which I've heard is akin to having your gums smashed repeatedly with a meat tenderizer. Also, since I will more than likely have an exposed sinus due to the wisdom tooth they are also removing, smoking could actually be even more dangerous on top of all the other reasons.
Sooooo...I was a day late in starting, but the process has begun! I smoked my last ciggy (I hope) last night, and woefully placed the circle of doom on my back. Honestly, waking up this morning and not smoking was weird, but with the patch on, not so bad. I even got through two cups of coffee without a serious craving. I always had a cigarette with my coffee, it was almost mandatory. Having now gotten through a few hours, it's a little more difficult, but I am still feeling fairly in control. Of course, I say this as I furiously suck on a piece of licorice. My dad says the first three days were the hardest. Which is fine, because it's only 6 days before I'll be in complete incoherency, so at least I have a deadline I can see to ease this nightmare and begin another one.
Oh, and to all my friends who have quit smoking before me, you are all my new personal heroes! I've known this day has neeeded to happen for quit sometime. I have a son, after all, and one whom I want to set a good example for. I smoked while I was pregnant, which is a horrible thing, and I still feel miserable to this day that I was so addicted to something that I did that. Oh, let's see, what else? It really is a disgusting habit. Your fingers turn yellow; your hair, body, and clothes stink; it's ridiculously expensive (and for what, seriously?), you can't get the smell out of your house; people look down at you...I could go on...but there's the obvious...It's friggin unhealthy as hell.
The only real hurdle I've had in dealing with this (and will more than likely continue to face) is my husband. Not exactly known for being Captain Supportive, he's been particularly brtual in regards to this. You see, yes, my husband smokes, but he smokes less than I do. I smoked a pack a day, whereas he was about at a half. But, being the person he is, he feels that the addiction is purely psychological, and thus relatively easy to beat (yes, I realize the irony of this statement by him, being that he himself has an impossible to beat psychological issue). He whined and hemmed and hawed over me going on the patch, feeling it was an unecessary step in the road to quitting. I had to berade him over and over to buy it, stating that it was what I felt I needed to quit, and if I feel I can do it with the patch, shut up and buy the damn thing already! Finally, yesterday we went and got me a box, and I also picked up a bucket of licorice. I can't actually go the more common tootsie pop route, as the concentrated sugar in lollipops really hurts my teeth. Of course, I caught another round of shit for that. It fucking kills me, despite everything I've gone through in my life, I am apparently 'weak' in his mind for not being able to kick this habit on my own. Ugh, he better start hiding knives soon if he wants to live through this experience while maintaining such a pisspoor attitude. Ugh, husbands. Remind me when I am done going through this current level of hell in my life to completely kick his ass.