Today at my daily radiation appointment I realized something. At least one of the people that get radiation around the same time I do is a smoker. I did not see them smoking. I am assuming this based on the reek of cigarette smoke that was filling the room when I walked in, disappeared as soon as that person did and then came back with a vengeance the moment he/she returned. I suppose I should be horrified by this. That someone would continue to do whatever it is that gave them cancer while they were getting treatment for said cancer. Honestly, besides the stench, I didn't have it in me to be disgusted. After taking about two seconds to think it over I realized if I had to give up something for the rest of my life because it was the cause of my Hodgkin's I doubt very much that I could. Or that I would even try.
Thankfully, I'm not saddled with any real addictions. I enjoy some sweet brown liquor now and then, a cigar or pipe on occasion, a couple of cups of coffee in the morning, and some rock cocaine on the weekends. Nothing I couldn't quit tomorrow. Except the coffee of course. I'd probably need some time at the methadone clinic to shake that monkey off. Point being, I wouldn't want to give up any one of them for the rest of my life. I suppose I could bend on the rock cocaine assuming I could substitute opium in its place. What happened to opium dens anyway? There's a weed dispensary on every corner in Los Angeles and not a single opium palace. They're no different than pot clinics only they come with beautiful silks from the Orient. Plus, what's not to like about dens and palaces? That just sounds inviting. I bet if we called them Opium Loft Spaces they'd be cited as a driving force for inner city gentrification. If you were looking at buying some property and a realtor told you an opium den had opened up on the block would it be a turn off or you would you think what an ethnically diverse neighborhood I'm moving into? You'd think you were exactly the forward thinking, non-judgmental, totally hip type that is moving into the neighborhood right as we speak. Where's the nearest Restoration Hardware?
Anyway, the good old days of opium dens and the Chinese building our railroads are behind us. Back to the point of this post. Since none of my various habits are considered contributing factors to lymphoma I won't have to worry about giving any of them up. Ol Stinky McSmokypants has to undergo a whole lifestyle change in order to keep his/her cancer from coming back (I'm assuming) and that is not so easy. The phrase itself - lifestyle change - sounds horrible. Lifestyle change, to me, equals no fun any more. I'm all about fun. Fun follows me around. Mostly due to the fact that I can commonly be found in bars, casinos and steakhouses. You know where fun doesn't go? Your local organic farmers market. The herbal remedies isle at Wholefoods is devoid of fun. The Bikram Yoga studio hasn't seen fun since the mid 90's. I will not be pulled into any pseudoscience or natural living nonsense as a response to beating cancer. I will lose the extra weight while still enjoying some form of meat at every meal of the day, a couple of glasses of red wine at night and the occasional weekend bender. Steaks will be grilled, briskets will get smoked. As before, pipes and cigars will be enjoyed in moderation. I'll keep laying in the sun on the beach. I will continue to play with asbestos whenever I find it inside an abandoned building. Okay, that last one I've never done. The point is, I like - make that love - all the things I do on a regular basis and I am not willing to give any of them up. Steak is my cigarettes. I know they're not the same on the scale of what is or is not bad for you but I cannot fault anyone for failing to give up their smokes. I will not be giving up my steak.
Thankfully, I'm not saddled with any real addictions. I enjoy some sweet brown liquor now and then, a cigar or pipe on occasion, a couple of cups of coffee in the morning, and some rock cocaine on the weekends. Nothing I couldn't quit tomorrow. Except the coffee of course. I'd probably need some time at the methadone clinic to shake that monkey off. Point being, I wouldn't want to give up any one of them for the rest of my life. I suppose I could bend on the rock cocaine assuming I could substitute opium in its place. What happened to opium dens anyway? There's a weed dispensary on every corner in Los Angeles and not a single opium palace. They're no different than pot clinics only they come with beautiful silks from the Orient. Plus, what's not to like about dens and palaces? That just sounds inviting. I bet if we called them Opium Loft Spaces they'd be cited as a driving force for inner city gentrification. If you were looking at buying some property and a realtor told you an opium den had opened up on the block would it be a turn off or you would you think what an ethnically diverse neighborhood I'm moving into? You'd think you were exactly the forward thinking, non-judgmental, totally hip type that is moving into the neighborhood right as we speak. Where's the nearest Restoration Hardware?
Anyway, the good old days of opium dens and the Chinese building our railroads are behind us. Back to the point of this post. Since none of my various habits are considered contributing factors to lymphoma I won't have to worry about giving any of them up. Ol Stinky McSmokypants has to undergo a whole lifestyle change in order to keep his/her cancer from coming back (I'm assuming) and that is not so easy. The phrase itself - lifestyle change - sounds horrible. Lifestyle change, to me, equals no fun any more. I'm all about fun. Fun follows me around. Mostly due to the fact that I can commonly be found in bars, casinos and steakhouses. You know where fun doesn't go? Your local organic farmers market. The herbal remedies isle at Wholefoods is devoid of fun. The Bikram Yoga studio hasn't seen fun since the mid 90's. I will not be pulled into any pseudoscience or natural living nonsense as a response to beating cancer. I will lose the extra weight while still enjoying some form of meat at every meal of the day, a couple of glasses of red wine at night and the occasional weekend bender. Steaks will be grilled, briskets will get smoked. As before, pipes and cigars will be enjoyed in moderation. I'll keep laying in the sun on the beach. I will continue to play with asbestos whenever I find it inside an abandoned building. Okay, that last one I've never done. The point is, I like - make that love - all the things I do on a regular basis and I am not willing to give any of them up. Steak is my cigarettes. I know they're not the same on the scale of what is or is not bad for you but I cannot fault anyone for failing to give up their smokes. I will not be giving up my steak.
First visit to the opium den of the new year . . . truly a historic day of firsts.
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