At 8:35PM this evening, I will have made it TWELVE DAYS since I last smoked.
For some people, this wouldn't be such a big deal outside of the usual "Yay! I made it 12 days which is almost 2 weeks!" celebration. For me, it is so much more than that. What it means for me is that I can go get the pre-op testing for my bariatric surgery done on Friday. It means my nicotine drug test will come back NEGATIVE and I will be able to meet with the surgeon in late March or early April and hopefully get the VSG (vertical sleeve gastrectomy) in late April or early May. It means that I will be well under my high school weight of 270lbs when my 20th reunion rolls around in September. It means I can tell quite a number of jerks off and dare them to call me Thunder Thighs now.
It means I made the absolute best decision I could make for myself and my health right here. It means that even though those stupid demons keep creeping up, I'm going to keep shutting them up with suckers and breath mints.
Don't ever tell me I can't do something. I'll do it just to prove you wrong out of spite.