August 24th, 2002


Smoking, Cancer, and Bouncy Little Kangaroo Rat

It really scares me that people who smoke anything can still get cancer even years after they quit. Inflaming and aggravating your lungs with smoke and chemicals or other irritants can cause slow growing cancer that can show up years later. My friend Coral quit smoking at thirty and got lung cancer and died ten years after she quit. My Mom quit seventeen years ago. I asked my Mom's doctor if someone who was a smoker, pot or otherwise, can get lung cancer years after they quit smoking, and he said, "Yes, of course. Inflammation and irritation of the lungs, and abnormalities brought on by smoking, can take a long time to cause problems." Have you ever seen how sticky the bowl of a pipe gets, or a bong? Well, then why wouldn't it follow that this same thing would be happening in the lungs?

Why are we all in so much denial? It's so so so sad. I mean my Mom just had to have part of her lungs cut out, it was a very scary surgery that she now has to try to recover from, she's doing really well, and I think it has to do with a miracle brought on by prayer or Maui Ha or something wonderful like that, but she's still suffering, and it may have spread to other parts of her body. Mom at eighty-six is one of the zillions of smokers who took it up when no one knew it was bad for you, in an era when it was depicted as being glamorous and sophisticated, when being thin was of the utmost importance, and you could stave off hunger with a smoke or two. I just don't understand people who start smoking now, tobacco smokers or chronic pot smokers, who don't see the simple basic connection between inhaling something irritating into the lungs on a daily basis, and the damage this can do to their bodies.

I feel so sorry for smokers because people are so mean to them and they get hassled and shamed so much for smoking while at the same time it's one of the hardest of all addictions to quit. On the other hand I am absolutely panicked about my man getting cancer and I don't want him to inhale one more puff of anything, blah.

Oh and by the way, there is a kangaroo rat living under my bed. We were visiting with our little pal in the shower and marvelling at how he likes to run up and down our arms and how far and fast he can jump, but when we left, Beau opened the door a little too wide and he sprung out into my room, sigh, we couldn't catch him in time and now he's lost under the bed somewhere. We grabbed all of the cats and tossed them out into the hallway so they couldn't get at him but how am I going to live like this? I mean I can't keep them out forever. Sparkle and Twinkle and the new baby are stuck in my bathroom now and they are going to be so pissed.

(no subject)

There's a cute little Kangaroo Rat hiding in my room somewhere and a whole lot of rat eating kitties are dying to get back in. We're tearing the place apart trying to find him. There's always some goofy drama going on in my life, no wonder people read my journal outloud to eachother. My life is nuts. To say nothing of our television commerical like rabbit breeding disaster. We're building more cages right now.