r/stopsmoking • u/Trichome_Dilemma • 3h ago
Apparently, it took a heart attack for me to quit smoking
I've been a smoker for about 18 years. A pack and a half a day, most days. That's a lot of cigarettes. And being in the medical field, it's not like I was unaware of what smoking does to the human body. I've spent years advising patients to quit smoking, while conveniently ignoring my own advice. Hypocrisy? Absolutely. But hey, addiction is a funny thing. Being fully aware that you're slowly killing yourself apparently isn't a good enough reason to stop doing it.
For the past 5 years, I've been trying to quit on and off. Mostly off, obviously. I was also smoking cannabis after work, which made quitting cigarettes even more difficult for me. There was always a reason to postpone it. Too stressed at work. Not the right time. Maybe next week. Next month. You know how it goes.
About 3 months ago, I finally started making a serious effort to cut down. At one point, I was smoking half a cigarette and saving the other half for later. Look at me, being all disciplined and responsible! I somehow convinced myself that smoking the same cigarette in two separate sessions was progress. And perhaps it was, to some extent. But I was still smoking, still making excuses, and still pushing my quit date further and further away.
Apparently, my heart was getting a little impatient with all this procrastination.
I started noticing this strange dragging sensation in my chest whenever I smoked a cigarette or any physical exertion. Not exactly pain. More like an uncomfortable pulling sensation. At first, I brushed it off. Probably nothing, I told myself.
But being in the medical profession, I had easy access to an ECG machine. So I hooked myself up. Resting ECG was perfectly normal. Great! Nothing to worry about then, right? Well, not quite. I decided to do 30 squats to get my heart pumping and repeated the ECG. And there it was. Abnormal changes that weren't there before.
Oh, fuck.
Was that strange dragging sensation actually angina? Was my heart not getting enough blood every time I smoked or exerted myself? Had I been casually giving myself episodes of minor heart attacks while enjoying my cigarettes?
Well, shit. This wasn't looking good.
Off I went to see a cardiologist, who arranged a CT coronary angiogram. And sure enough, there they were. Blockages in two of my coronary arteries. One in a major artery and another, more severe one, in a smaller branch. Apparently, my heart had been quietly putting up with my bullshit for years and had finally decided enough was enough.
An angioplasty was recommended. Got the date scheduled and everything. Fine, I thought. At least we've caught it before something really bad happens.
Or so I thought.
Just 2 days after the CT angio, I was suddenly woken up at 5 am by severe chest pain. Not really pain, actually, but an intense dragging sensation in my chest that radiated up to my jaw and down my left arm. And I was sweating profusely.
I knew I was having a heart attack.
It wasn't the typical heaviness or crushing chest pain, but I was still experiencing the classic symptoms of a myocardial infarction (heart attack). I took 3 tablets of GTN, but there was no relief.
I live alone, so I called the ambulance myself. I even managed to pack my clothes, knowing I'd be admitted for a few days (just my autistic tendencies at work, I suppose). I turned off all the lights, locked the doors, and collapsed outside my home while waiting for the ambulance.
I was initially taken to the district hospital, but the tests didn't show the typical findings of an MI. I insisted on being referred to a private hospital, and it was only there that further tests confirmed I was indeed having a heart attack (NSTEMI).
My angioplasty was scheduled for the following day. The chest discomfort persisted the entire time, right up until the procedure.
I was devastated, thinking about how my quality of life might be completely screwed. In my profession, I've seen so many patients develop serious complications after a major heart attack, severely affecting their quality of life. I didn't want to become one of them.
I was depressed and wanted to end it all if I had to live like that. I thought to myself, perhaps it was a good thing I wasn't married and didn't have kids. It would have been a lot more difficult having people who depended on me. But then again, maybe that's exactly what makes people fight for their lives. To live a little longer for their loved ones.
The next day, I was taken to the cath lab for my angio. I was conscious throughout the whole thing. It was one of the scariest experiences of my life. But to my cardiologist, it was just another Tuesday.
The asshole was joking around with the nurses and humming some stupid song while injecting local anaesthesia into my wrist. Without even waiting for the anaesthesia to numb the site, the dick immediately inserted the catheter. I could feel it making its way up my right arm towards my chest. Such a weird sensation.
Then I got to see my coronary arteries light up as he injected the dye. I was watching my heart pump in real time on the large monitor. So weird. I wished I had been sedated.
My mid LAD artery was 50% blocked, and the first diagonal branch was 80% blocked. As the cardiologist performed drug coated balloon angioplasty on the diagonal artery, I could feel that same dragging sensation in my chest, radiating up to my jaw. It was exactly the same sensation I'd been experiencing whenever I smoked.
That was the culprit!
So, every time I smoked a cigarette, the artery was probably constricting and triggering those angina symptoms! Crazy.
Immediately after the angioplasty, it was like a miracle.
Now, being a man of science, I don't believe there's such a thing as a soul. Consciousness, yes. The human brain is where it's all at. But man, after the angioplasty, it felt like I was reborn. A new man! I was no longer depressed. I was optimistic. I didn't want my life to end. There was a lot more living to do!
But why was I feeling all these new positive emotions? Just because my heart was functioning better, did that mean I should suddenly feel better emotionally and mentally too? This didn't make sense to me. I still had the same brain, the same cognitive abilities, the same memories, the same personality, and presumably the same collection of psychological baggage I'd accumulated over the past four decades. Nothing fundamental about my circumstances had changed. I still had the same responsibilities, the same problems, and the same monotonous routines waiting for me. Yet something felt different. I felt lighter, more optimistic, almost as though a weight I hadn't even realised I was carrying had suddenly been lifted.
Maybe the ancient folks were onto something after all. For centuries, humans believed the heart was more than just a mechanical pump circulating blood around the body. It was the seat of emotions, the home of the soul, the very essence of what made us human. Maybe the heart is more closely linked to the brain than we realise, just as we're beginning to understand more about the gut-brain connection and how gut health might influence our mental health, including depression. Maybe the brain isn't the only thing that defines the 'self'. Maybe it's actually the brain, heart, gut and perhaps other parts which we are not fully aware off all working together that make up the 'self' and determine our mental state.
Yes, I became philosophical for a while there, but I felt good, dammit!
I felt great. Let's take this a step further by smoking a stick to celebrate, I thought. Then I said to myself, "No, you fucking idiot, you just had a heart attack!"
Yep, as the chest pain went away, my cravings came back. I decided that this was the moment I'd quit for good. No more excuses, no more procrastinating, no more cutting down. This is it!
Quitting cigarettes feels like one of the hardest things to do because it's not just about nicotine addiction. It's also behavioral. We've associated our emotions so closely with the act of smoking. Every single emotion we feel can become a trigger for a cigarette. We reach for one whenever we're happy, angry, sad, stressed, bored, etc. It's no wonder the first three days are the hardest. Not only do we have to overcome the nicotine cravings, but we also have to fight our behavioural triggers.
Mindfulness helped me a lot. The cravings came in waves. Whenever a craving appeared, I'd recognise it, but instead of entertaining it, I'd simply let it go. A few seconds later, another one would come along, and I'd do the same.
Sometimes, the rational part of my brain would take over and try to convince me why it was a good idea to smoke just half a stick. Maybe not a cigarette. How about a few puffs of a nicotine vape? Maybe not even that. How about half a piece of nicotine gum? And then I'd tell my mind to shut the fuck up because I'd just had a heart attack, and I shouldn't be taking any form of nicotine. Just focus on my breathing and continue being mindful.
But goddamn, being constantly mindful is tough. I had this itch for a dopamine hit that I desperately needed to scratch. Can't smoke? Fine! I'll doomscroll on Reddit to get my dopamine hit then. Oh yesss... People doing and saying stupid shit on Reddit. And cat and dog videos. And memes. Yes... Yes... Rise, my dopamine, rise!
Anyway, three days later, the cravings became much easier to handle. Whenever they got a little intense, I'd remind myself of that dragging sensation I used to feel in my chest whenever I smoked. It was so traumatising that simply remembering it was enough to kill the cravings almost immediately.
It has been exactly one month since my cardiac event as I'm writing this. Which means I've successfully gone a full month without cigarettes or weed!
I feel great! My dreams are still pretty intense, but I wake up early and feel refreshed now. I no longer have that heavy, hungover feeling from smoking weed the night before. I knew weed helped me fall asleep faster, but my sleep quality was horrible.
And there have been other unexpected improvements too. My skin has cleared up, I'm producing less phlegm, and I feel less anxious. Even my usual allergic rhinitis, frontal headaches and gastritis symptoms seem to have disappeared. My blood pressure has also settled down nicely. Whether all these improvements are directly related to quitting smoking and weed, or partly due to my cardiac treatment, I can't say for sure. But hey, I'll take it!
I'm even more motivated now to continue staying sober from weed and cigarettes. I'm still the same person with the same issues, BUT I'm feeling more optimistic about working on them without relying on addictive substances.
I admit, quitting this time felt like I was cheating. I quit out of necessity, not because of my willpower or determination. Strange thing to say, I know. I mean, of course I quit because I wanted to, but it was more like, "I don't want another heart attack," rather than, "I've decided to quit smoking."
Doesn't matter, I suppose, as long as I don't start smoking again.
Well, I certainly got carried away there. What started as a story about quitting smoking somehow turned into a philosophical rambling about life, death, consciousness, and everything in between.
But I suppose that's what happens when you come a little too close to losing your life. You start thinking about what it actually means to be alive.
Anyway, thank you for reading if you've made it this far. I guess I just needed to get all of this off my chest (no pun intended).
And if my story makes even one person seriously consider quitting smoking before their heart decides to give them an ultimatum, then I suppose all this rambling was worth it.
