No, not the Big Gay Closet, as Harry will insist on calling it. Lestrade got me in the comments of the last post. Yeah, I did used to smoke, in medical school. Try going to medical school and not smoking, see how far you get. Got time to eat? No. Time to sleep? God, no. But there's always time for a fag.
I picked it up again in Afghanistan for a bit, mainly for the same reason. Also, of course, cancer seems a bit farther away when you're getting shot at on a daily basis, no matter what logic and common sense tell you. I suppose the same goes for getting shouted at by doctors and nurses while you're trying to learn to intubate someone for the first time or find a particularly deep vein. Medical school: not unlike war in many respects.
I never really got addicted though. (If you listen carefully, you can now hear the sound of Harry and Lestrade restraining themselves from punching me in the nose.) I dropped the habit easily enough the first time, and of course the second time I was too high on morphine to begin to notice any withdrawal symptoms. It's just not my thing, I think. And I do appreciate the effort certain members of my readership make not to taste like an ashtray when I kiss them.
6 comments:
I had better be the only "member" of your "readership" going to that sort of effort, thanks.
We need to talk about my tag, John.
Tell you what, when you're six months sober I'll change it to anything you like.
...Anything?
...Anything that isn't deliberately designed to embarrass me in front of the entire internet.
Would I do that? :)
PS: The entire internet doesn't read your blog, Mr Delusions of Grandeur.
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