Here's a story about people smoking outside.
For the last two weeks, I've had pretty much the same daily routine: Wake up, shower, eat breakfast, go downstairs to the hotel lobby and wait for the shuttle to M.D. Anderson Cancer Hospital, sit next to mom in ICU, go back to the hotel, go to sleep. There are breaks for lunch and e-mails and the occasional update on SportsJournalists.com.
The first day, I waited for the shuttle from inside the lobby. The driver never stopped. I asked the girl at the front desk about it, and she called him on a walkie-talkie. He explained he essentially does a drive-by, and if he doesn't see anyone out front, he skips this hotel and goes on to the next stop. So that means I have to stand outside in the blazing heat to wait for him. OK, fine.
But not fine. In front of the hotel is where the smokers congregate. The noxious, toxic fumes linger long after the smokers have put out their last cigarette, and just standing near them my clothes and my person accumulate enough second-hand smoke that when I get to the hospital, the ICU nurses often ask me if I've been smoking. See, we have to put on gloves, surgical masks and gowns before we can enter the room, because mom not only has lymphoma, but she's fighting various respiratory issues, including multiple pneumonias and the threat of new infection daily.
So every day I look for creative ways to stand close enough to the front entrance of the hotel to make sure I get on the shuttle, yet not so close that I em enveloped in smoke when I get on the shuttle. Problem is, the same two or three people who exhale smoke like chimneys every day are also on their way to M.D. Anderson, and after 20 minutes of smoking, they put out their butts when the shuttle arrives and quickly hop aboard. The cloud of smoke around them follows them into the shuttle. So no matter what I do, I'm going to smell like smoke and carry those toxins with me into ICU.
I suppose I should take a cab or drive, but what will end up being 18 or more hotel nights is setting me back a pretty penny, and I have to try to save somewhere. Cab fare and parking fees would eat me up, so the shuttle is my only real option unless I decide to sleep outside.
Yesterday I had enough, and I asked one of the women if she could refrain from smoking for about 5-10 minutes before getting on the shuttle, to let the smoke dissipate as much as possible before she gets on the shuttle. She shot me a fierce glance, then told me it's none of my business if she smokes outside. I told her I was visiting my mom in ICU, and that I'm wary of the dangers of second-hand smoke. My mom lived for 30 years with a smoker, my dad, and he died at 52 of lung cancer. We're now wondering if my mom is paying the second-hand-smoke price with her life at 75.
"Everybody dies of something," the smoking lady said to me. "You don't look like you miss many meals. You don't see me telling you to cut back, do you?"
"When the surgeon general comes out with a report on the dangers of second-hand fat," I told her, "feel free."
Later I heard her telling someone about her mom, who is also in ICU. With lung cancer. Then she got off the shuttle and smoked another before going into the hospital.
That is when I fully realized how addictive cigarettes must be.