Nicotine patches, gum, and vaporizers can help satisfy some of the cravings, but they can’t replace the rituals of smoking a cigarette: retreating outside with a co-conspirator, crinkling the cellophane, and the aluminum foil as you open a new package, the intoxicating buzz of that first drag.
Bruce Holaday, 69, a retired educator from Mill Valley, California, knows all too well the power of nicotine. During the last five decades, Mr. Holaday estimates that he has tried to quit smoking 100 times, often relying on nicotine replacement products. But he invariably returned to his lifelong affair with Marlboro Lights.
His last attempt in August, a cold-turkey tactic without nicotine replacement therapy, set off an excruciating maelstrom of cravings that lasted several months. “It was like a sudden earthquake of want and need, and then there would be these tremors for the next 10 to 15 minutes,” she said.
But this time, Mr. Holaday joined a support group at Stanford Health Care, which introduced a powerful social component to her research. He described the effect as “not wanting to let the team down” and said he learned to avoid stressful situations, such as watching the news. He found that if he could deal with the initial waves of desire, they invariably died down.
At the end of June, it passed the one-year mark since the last drag.
It gained weight, but no longer rolls easily on hikes. And he is confident that he will never smoke again.
Asked about the possibility of drastic government intervention to force Americans to resign, Mr. Holaday paused and thought about the first puff he took half a century ago as a freshman. “Without that nicotine rush, I probably would have left and never smoked again,” he said. “It’s going to be tough on smokers, but anything we can do to prevent a new generation from getting hooked is a good thing.”
Robert Chiarito contributed reporting from Chicago.
