Hall of Fame Speech Of mikeoxlong

GREAT MOMENTS IN MIKEOXLONG’S DIPPING HISTORY

1. My senior year of high school I was named to the All-South Texas football squad, and my photograph was in the paper. My mom clipped it out and was so proud… until one of her friends who also saw the picture told her “I didn’t know Mike dipped snuff.” Mom wouldn’t speak to me for two weeks.

2. I was a pallbearer at my grandmother’s funeral. I had a fatty in as I helped carry Oma to her final resting place.

3. I had a dip in during my college graduation, with a disgusting spitter next to my chair. My parents took a picture of me accepting my degree – I wasn’t smiling because I had a mouth full of juice.

4. The photograph of my wife and I’s wedding party, which is prominently displayed on our living room wall, features me with a bulging lip.

5. My wife had to have a C-section when my son was born. Guess who had a wedge in behind his surgical mask? I kid you not.

6. I had landed an interview for a dream job. I wasn’t stupid enough to actually have a dip in during the interview, but afterwards I went in the bathroom and realized that I was stupid enough to have forgotten to pick the granules out of my teeth. I didn’t get the job. Because of that? I’ll never know.

7. My family and I visited Washington D.C. We went to the Vietnam Memorial, where we looked for my uncle’s name. There was a trash can across the sidewalk from the Memorial, and every so often I would walk over there and spit in it. It then occurred to me that I was spitting tobacco juice in the presence of the freaking Vietnam Memorial.

8. My five year old son began spitting in cups, just like dear old dad.

SEPTEMBER 19, 2006 -- MIKEOXLONG FINALLY GETS HIS HEAD OUT OF HIS ASS

My dipping story is pretty much the same as everyone else’s, started in high school, can a day for 14 years, blah, blah, blah. Prior to finding this site, I had never even considered quitting. My wife didn’t like my habit, of course, but she didn’t give me a lot of grief over it. I guess she was used to it; her father has chewed tobacco for the last 60 years, and has experienced no health problems because of it. Well, except his teeth are worn down to little nubs and he wears a bridge.

Interestingly, none of the shameful events listed above guilted me into the decision to quit dipping. It was fear, not guilt, that eventually pushed me over the edge. In early September 2006, I found out I have diabetes. I weighed 275 pounds at 6’3”, and the doctor told me I needed to lose weight. A lot. And, he said, stop dipping, tobacco + diabetes = big risk of heart problems. He’s the same doctor I’ve gone to since I was a kid, so he felt free to be straight with me: “Be a man, for Christ’s sake, and do what you need to do.”

So, I finally took charge of my life. I lost 50 pounds and quit tobacco forever. I’m in the best shape I’ve been in 15 years. Every morning I’m happy to get up and look in the mirror. No more bloody gums. No more fat belly -- I can even look straight down and see my schlong! And I’m off the Glucophage, I maintain my blood sugar levels with diet and exercise. I plan to be with my family for a long, long time.

How I lost the weight is a story for a different website, but I will tell you how I quit snuff. To coin a phrase often used here, I shut the door. Dipping was no longer an option. I told everyone I knew that I was quitting so there was no weaseling out of it. I bought 30 cans of SMC, several tins of Altoids and some of that Dentyne Fire gum. And I sweated my ass off. The first week was tough, but I just told myself that I would quit for a day at a time, and let each succeeding day take care of itself. I didn’t really have the fog many quitters talk about, but I sure as hell had the urges the first few weeks. And they didn’t last 5 minutes, either, they usually lasted for hours. I would post up on my QuitSmokeless group’s roll call each day, and then read and read until I got cross-eyed.

Slowly, things got better. There were a few crises along the way, all of which arose after booze-soaked evenings. Twice I was able to make it to a computer and get on this site. Quit brothers flocked to the chat room to help me, and I made it through. The third time was when I came closest to failure. My buddy, who still dips, was driving us home from a bar, and I was three sheets to the wind. I asked him if he had a can. He said no, he had used his all up. I then asked him to stop at a C-store so I could pick up some Cope. “Hell no I’m not stopping,” he said, “didn’t you say you’ve been quit for 45 days?” And he took me home. The next day I woke up, and guess what? It was day 46. That was a close call, and it could have been avoided had I listened to the vets’ advice regarding alcohol use during the early part of a quit.

Early in my quit I sort of assumed that once I hit the 100 mark I would never have to worry about tobacco again. That was stupid, of course. 100 days is certainly an accomplishment, but it’s just an arbitrary milestone – I still have urges from time to time and probably will continue to have them for the foreseeable future. Tobacco will always be there, lined up in that neat row behind the counter at the 7-11. I will always be just $5.00 away from blowing a lot of hard work. I’m not worried, though, I’ve shut the door and no one can make me open it again.

I don’t usually find myself giving advice, but to you potential quitters out there I will say that the time to quit is NOW! Throw that round bastard can in the trash. Believe in yourself. Believe in the ability of your quit brothers and sisters to help you. Read, post, read, post. Don’t waiver. Don’t hope that you will be successful, believe that you will. Tell yourself every day that you are no longer a tobacco user. Freedom is within your grasp.

Thanks to all the members of St. Nic-O-Frees, and to the veterans who helped us along. I couldn’t have done it without all of you. I didn’t post much beyond Roll Call, but I did read just about everything on the December 2006 forum, even the weird stuff. This site saved my life.

Lurkers, this ramble is over. Now get your head out of your ass and go post Day 1.

Yours,

mikeoxlong.
January 10, 2007