Or rather I didn’t; some two weeks and quite a few dark things ago I had an aberration, and decided that after forty five years I would give up the nicotine thingies.
Having absolutely no will power, and being allergic to the patch do-dahs and finding that the E-fag things are about as much use as a floppy on a porn set I had a word with the nice people dahn at the Tesco chemical dept and they “persuaded” me that the best way to go was a whatsit called
Champix which I could start on immediately without having to go and see my
So orf I went home to the Castle Champix in hand and an appointment in a week’s time with an “advisor”.
I tried to read the "instructions" but as they were the size of a roll of wallpaper I lost the will to read about halfway dahn the second paragraph and unfortunately never made it to the "side effects" bit.
I started the next day on the little white ones, and after about half an hour the nausea started, then the headache, then the indigestion, then the dizziness, by day five I was confined to bed, bucket in hand, the room spinning, head throbbing, stomach heaving and joints aching, but I said to myself “self it will be worth it”.
On day eight I started on the blue ones-double amounts of nausea, dizziness, headache, constipation, bad dreams and urine production dahn to zero but I said to myself “self it may be worth it”.
By day ten I was still in the four poster, room spinning, head about to explode, stomach empty of all sustenance, nightmares, not a piss in days and then it happened, I started to go blind, I kid you not, the world slowly became fuzzier and fuzzier and then disappeared, so I said to myself “self it isn’t worth it”.
So I stopped the
Tampax Champix ten days ago and have
only just managed to find my left handed brain cell and regain a partial set of
the alphabet, still have a whimsy of falling dahn and lying in vomit, still
knackered, but I am now able to pee and eat.
So I have given up-giving up, and as I sit here on the sofa with a nice cup of milky coffee and a smoke watching his Maj galloping around the garden I realise that there are far worse things in life than smoking.
But while in my vomit soaked, head bursting, spinning, arid bed I did come up with a few alternative pressies for those who may not be your favourite people.
And the Eye-pad.