It’s just over two years to the day that I left Charing Cross hospital after surgery for colon cancer.
Once I returned home, as well as luxuriating in my own bed and generally feeling so happy to be back, I threw out all my smoking paraphernalia.
Into the bin went my packs of rolling tobacco, Rizlas, lighters and even the odd pack of American Spirit I kept in case I ran out of the essentials to roll my own.
I was 66 and had smoked since I was a teenager, only stopping while I was pregnant.
Despite this I didn’t have a moment’s difficulty
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