I just watched a friend of mine die of lung cancer. She was a lifelong smoker who started smoking in her teens. Before the cancer diagnosis we’d tell her she really needed to quit, she’d say, “Yeah, I know,” and walk outside to have another. My friend died two weeks before her 55th birthday, leaving two children aged 20 and 21. That’s a terrible age to lose your mother.
My friend had small cell carcinoma, the most deadly and aggressive kind of lung cancer. She was diagnosed just after last Thanksgiving with a prognosis of six months to live. She survived for five months and three weeks, despite having intense chemotherapy. She was determined to live, and fought harder than anyone I have ever known to overcome the cancer, even to her last week of life. The cancer was relentless and took her anyway.
Something dreadful you may not know: When someone is afflicted with small cell carcinoma lung cancer, the cancer spreads to the brain in as many as 41% of patients. My friend was one of the 41%. I watch this woman, who had been a brilliant mathematician, reduced to being unable to figure out how to address an email to her friends. I heard her tears as she was unable to cope with, or even understand, important things her family was trying to resolve with her. I saw her gripped by irrational panic attacks, struggling to keep from suffocating, trying to scream, convinced she was having heart attacks. I saw her family trying to calm her down from the panic attacks, dreading the next one, knowing it was going to happen without warning and they couldn’t stop it.
I stood by her bedside in hospice during her last week of life, where the nurses did the only thing they could to suppress the panic attacks: moderately heavy sedation. She knew who we were and responded to our voices. But she was unable to engage in anything resembling intelligent conversation or assist with her own care in any way. The only good things about her death were that her pain was finally over and she didn’t die alone.
But the pain for her children has only just begun. It’s going to be with them for a long time.
Is smoking really that bad? Well, it stinks up your clothes and house, reduces your sense of taste, leaves you looking prematurely aged, and yellows your fingers. You wind up with burn holes in your clothes, your car seats, and your carpet. The constant exposure to smoke causes allergies and other respiratory problems in family members. Other than that smoking itself isn’t really that bad.
The cancer that results from smoking is devastating.
Ask yourself: Do you feel lucky?