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The writer of the article has been a life long smoker from Europe. After moving to the US, and being diagnosed with asthma, nearing her middle age, she was trying to quit smoking nearly on everyday basis, but all of the attempts sadly failed. Nicotine gum and patches didn't work for her, therefore she contacted her surgeon, who joined her in a program and prescribed tablets, but that didn't her her quit smoking either. What she found was that a drastic change of schedule worked best in her case. Somewhat humorous came to to a quite serious matter suggests that everyone needs to find what works greatly for them, as popular "one size fits all" approach never makes everyone satisfied.

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 fun. For a culture that lives on lanes full of cafes, smoking is not optional, it's nearly obligatory.

I was 13 when I got hooked on cigarettes, enough to begin 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 truly trying to fit in. At that point, and also several years later, trying to stop 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 vastly a part of my daily routine. It was precisely like it used to be in the old black and white movies - me, the typewriter, and the big ashtray with the cigarette butts piled up high. Soon after I moved to the US, the problems with my smoking arised. 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 undisputed leader in the witch look for smokers, I was diagnosed with asthma.

I could say from that moment on, 15 years before, I was trying to quit smoking on a daily basis. There was by now a drastic 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 as my colleague, an American, was a smoker also.

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

I lastly quit smoking cold turkey. Two years later, with a new lease on life, I'm proud to say - I haven't had a cigarette ever since. I realize 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 all the time say it was caused by my divorce drama, not nicotine. Every now and then, during lunch break in the fiscal district, I stop by somebody smoking in front of their office building. Second hand smoke still smells so nice.

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