Larry made fun of me when I quit smoking -- but then he had a stroke

Giving up cigarettes was easy, but it was a different story for my husband, writes Jane Shortall

Five years ago I stopped smoking овернайт and found a new and wonderful life. As well as the obvious benefits, my clothes and hair no longer reeked of smoke and I could really taste food and wine and enjoy the true scent of perfumes.

I wrote about having stopped овернайт, how it could be done with pure willpower, without having to pay for counselling, patches, chewing gum or other supports. The reaction was wonderful; people were amazed, delighted and full of praise for my sound advice. Life was fantastic, at least in the bigger, outside world it was.

On the home front, things took a nose dive. Sharing my life was a husband who not only smoked all day, but who still considered cigarettes to be something of a fashion item, a glamorous extension of his hand, like people in old films. But those days were long gone; we all knew that not only had the glamour faded, but now, most cigarettes are nothing more than a mix of lethal chemicals.

I had never suggested that anyone else should stop smoking, I just told my story. But a feeling came into the air, as it were, with Larry making it plain that not only had he no intention of quitting; he did not understand why I had stopped. He couldn't see the point of an existence without cigarettes.

I quit in late 2006 and within a month, it was announced that France would ban smoking in all restaurants and bars early in 2007. This was a double blow for Larry. It was as if I was no longer his smoking buddy and now, to his horror, the French were changing their ways.

Back in Ireland , during our 11 years together, smoking was still part of daily life, as it was here when, in 2003, Larry took early retirement and I, a little bit younger, chucked in a job I loved.

To the surprise of family, friends and work colleagues, we upped sticks, left Dublin and moved to southern France, the foothills of the Pyrenees.

Here, we hoped to find a new, more relaxing, slower way of life.

The move was a huge success; we took to the French lifestyle with gusto and a year later we were married by the Mayor of St Lizier, with only the villagers in attendance. It was like a scene from Chocolat; a wonderful day full of good feeling and best wishes from people who had welcomed us into their lives.

Few of our new French friends smoked; most women told me they had given up years ago. When we were invited to lunch or dinner, it was almost always to non-smoking houses.

Larry often used some excuse and nipped back to our house to smoke.

One Madame held up the cheese course until he re-appeared, almost 20 minutes later, leaving me feeling completely ludicrous.

He would enquire, in a jokey way, about my new healthy life and could hardly control his amusement when I developed some breathing problems. He found this enormously funny and made jibes like "but you were never sick when you smoked" and "don't you know that germs never attack a smoke-filled body?"

He repeated his intention to smoke until his last breath, weirdly announcing that this last moment of life would be spent sitting on our balcony, with a drink in one hand, cigarette in the other. It was more than a bit wearing.

Then, that old saying, "If you want to give God a laugh, tell him your plans", exploded into our lives. Larry had a stroke.

Years of heavy smoking, dangerously high cholesterol (a lifetime of eating fat-laden meat) plus perilously high blood pressure were the reasons given by the medical team in Toulouse .

On the evening he was taken into hospital, a specialist stood at the end of the bed and asked: "You are a heavy smoker, Monsieur?" Larry, frightened out of his wits, heard himself respond "not any more".

Three full days of tests were scheduled and he faced them all, brain scans and MRIs with a gutsy courage that impressed everyone.

My hero went further, surprising and astounding the French doctors by enquiring if he could leave the hospital for the big rugby game on Sunday afternoon, explaining that we had our tickets and the game was an important one. They agreed, advising him to 'stay cool'. We went. Toulouse won. We stayed cool.

The stroke, while not causing long-lasting damage, was a serious warning. It heralded a massive life change and I witnessed the emergence of a colossal inner strength as Larry took up the challenge.

Always keen on cooking, he put 100% into creating low cholesterol dishes, using herbs and spices in place of animal fats.

Shopping and experimenting produced not only scrumptious results but filled some of the hours previously spent smoking.

There is nothing easy about a change such as this; it is a question of accepting the situation, taking the advice of the medical experts and then doing whatever is necessary.

A positive attitude, plus the medication, has been the start of a great new chapter in our lives. And there is an added bonus.

With two people not smoking, the spare cash means whole weekends in Toulouse or Bordeaux, instead of just tickets for the match. Isn't that something, especially in a recession?