On each package of cigarettes I buy, there is a warning label advising me this can be hazardous to my health. I recently discovered that quitting can be almost as hazardous.

This year on the list of most important must-haves in our household according to my teenage son, is obtaining a spot on the high school varsity basketball team. My own must-have is the conviction to quit smoking. Now this is the kid who has been brainwashing me for the last two year with the daily incantation,

“Smoking is hazardous to your health, Mom.” I was beginning to think he was on the payroll of the Surgeon General. It was like a small drop of water in a Chinese torture. I began to listen.

I was smoking too much and perhaps if I had other outlets, I might cut down, possibly quit. So being the highly competent mother that I am, I decided if I combined my desire to quit smoking with my son’s desire to play varsity basketball, we would both come out ahead.

My son was a little skeptical about my basketball skills. He suggested that he just go to the gym in town each night like his friends. He thought he might get more practice that way. I was such a great budgeter that I figured every night at twenty miles round-trip was one hundred miles per week at twenty miles per gallon or $16.25 per week or $65.00 per month. Our money was far too precious to spend $65.00 per month on summer recreation. Wasn’t I clever to solve this problem? I would save approximately $65.00 per month on gas and $60.00 on cigarettes. So the practice began.

The first day, my son said, “Mom, when you say pass, I’ll throw you the ball and you shoot.” My answer, What do you mean pass?” I never saw the ball before it hit me. The emergency room cost $75.00, the doctor $35.00 and $35.00 for the x-rays to see if my nose was broken. I was undaunted. The next day, with a white bandage across the bridge of my nose and no cigarettes for twenty-four hours, I was ready for anything. Just as my son asked, “Mom, are you sure those sandals are the right shoes to play in?? I stepped on the base of one of them and that little strap that goes between your toes was no longer between the big toe and the second toe, it was sideways on the second toenail. It cost $109.00 save that toenail.

The next day, my son thought I would chicken out, but once you start something, as I have often told my children, you must finish it. At six o’clock, he passed the ball to me. (I had learned the word pass). I dribbled down the driveway court, my son watching in admiration. No bad for an old lady, my form was great, the ball was bouncing for a change, and everything was perfect. I looked toward my son and reveling in my glory, I never saw the pole.

At seven o’clock, I woke up. I was stretched out on the driveway, the concrete was very hard. Someone had put an ice-cold cloth on my face. I wearily removed it, slowly remembering what had happened. I said,

“Son if you will go into the kitchen and get me a cigarette, I will drive you to the gym to practice basketball”