By Sean McDermott
I had quit smoking so many times that I decided not to use that word ever again and now when I hear people say that they have “quit”, I take it lightly and reserve comment. Quitting is something that you fear, something that you approach slowly and have a plan in place to overcome the odds, the mood swings, the cravings. I had no such thing.
Let me give you some untypical background. In July of 2007 I arrived at Toronto Western Hospital in an ambulance dying of Liver Disease from Alcoholism. I know this because they told me next morning that I had been dying for about two weeks. I wouldn’t have made it through the night if my sister and Mother had not insisted as I lay in my sweat-drenched Queen bed, throwing up repeatedly, that I had to go to hospital. Even then I kept thinking, “if I could just rest” but I went as they say, kicking and screaming. The Chief Physician the very next morning visited my bedside, told me that I was very lucky and that my life was about to change, that is if I wanted to live. There is always the [...] continue the story