The first anniversary of me giving up smoking has just passed. I chose a date I would remember, 14 February. I had tried before - but this time I chose lozenges to help me stop.

The other times I gave up I used patches or nothing, which obviously didn't help and, if memory serves me well, I lasted no more than two weeks without a cigarette. I was always afraid I would not be able to cope. I thought I would get angry and irritable with people, which worried me. There was a period of trying and failing in the past. All very valuable experience.

I decided I didn't want to be trapped anymore. I wanted to be free from having to buy cigarettes and having to have to smoke. I wanted my tongue to stop furring up and to be able to taste, to smell things and stop being the thing that smelt. I wanted my family to be able to visit. I wanted to see my grandchildren more. They hated the smell of smoke. It must have been awful, I notice the smell on smokers and in the rooms they work in. Yuck.

As well as all those very important things for me, I wanted my husband to have a chance of living a little longer. John and I gave up at the same time. We went to the stop smoking session clinic together quite a while before the actual day of giving up. They give you the lozenges on prescription. When we were interviewed we got onto the subject of why John wanted to give up; he had recently been diagnosed with leukaemia. The interviewer had told us that her husband had suffered with it and died four years previously with pneumonia. That sad news made us more determined: we collected the lozenges and patches and waited.

I remember feeling I was in charge of when I needed a lozenge. It suited me best to have this small chalky tablet in my mouth slowly dissolving away. It helped me focus or stop focusing. I had a gnawing feeling in my stomach so it felt and burning sensations in all my limbs.

Sometimes I found myself breathing in slowly and deeply, and out more quickly; something that still happens. Which was withdrawal and which menopause I'm not completely sure. It was horrible, I will not lie to you. I laughed crying. A colleague said that she too could quite easily smoke a cigarette even though she had given up a year ahead of me. Knowing it is not easy is good.

Giving up together was better this time. On the occasions before we found it very easy to confuse emotions and collapse under the strain. Our emotions and ability to cope was not improved by smoking. This fact took a while to dawn on me. So many people I knew had given up, as we were not allowed to smoke at work on site. When I first started work lots of people went for a cigarette in the staff room. Now I no longer go for a fag, have to leave my office to take a short walk and smoke, in all weathers.

As the year is now completed, I will celebrate by taking up the challenge to address the other issues; like the extra two stone I carry around.

Doing it together is not always a great help as both of you are suffering and there is not too much support to share at critical times. I just took on the attitude that it didn't matter if John wanted to try again another time and I wasn't going to stop him. It took away the pressure and voilà, here we are. Nearly every day from the start I said, "I am really glad I don't smoke". I wonder if that helped?