Please read the free preview of my new book “A Struggle to Quit” and buy it if you want the full story.
Chapter 1
Maria sat at the kitchen table in their modest home in Mexico City, a cigarette dangling from her fingers as she exhaled a plume of smoke toward the ceiling. Her husband, Carlos, entered the room after a long day at the office where he managed accounts for a local firm, his tie loosened and his face showing the usual fatigue from staring at spreadsheets. Their two children, Sofia and Miguel, were playing in the living room, their laughter filtering through the open doorway.
Maria glanced at Carlos as he poured himself a glass of water. “Another rough day?” she asked, taking another drag from her cigarette.
He nodded, sitting down across from her. “The usual, deadlines and meetings. How was your shift at the bar?”
She shrugged, stubbing out the cigarette in an ashtray overflowing with butts. “Busy, as always. Tips were decent, but I smelled like smoke all night, not just from the customers.”
Carlos reached across the table and took her hand. “You’ve been saying you want to quit for months now. Maybe it’s time to try again.”
Maria sighed, her eyes drifting to the window where the city lights flickered in the evening dusk. She had always dreamed of becoming a chemist, enrolling in university with plans to work in a lab, mixing compounds and discovering new formulas. But after Sofia was born, and then Miguel two years later, her studies had fallen by the wayside. Now, at thirty-five, she served drinks at a neighborhood bar, coming home each night with the scent of tobacco clinging to her clothes, a reminder of her own habit that had spiraled out of control.
“I do want to stop,” she admitted, her voice soft. “It’s costing us money we could use for the kids’ school supplies, and I hate how it makes me feel, always craving the next one. But patches didn’t work last time, and those gums taste awful.”
Carlos squeezed her hand gently. “We’ll figure it out. You’re strong, Maria. Remember how you balanced everything when the kids were little?”
She smiled faintly, but her mind was already turning over the idea that had been nagging at her. Earlier that day, while scrolling through her phone during a slow moment at the bar, she had seen an advertisement pop up on a local news site. It was for a medical study aimed at helping people quit smoking, promising innovative methods and compensation for participants. The ad had caught her eye because it mentioned a facility not far from their neighborhood, and it emphasized that only dedicated individuals need apply.
That evening, after putting Sofia and Miguel to bed, Maria sat on the couch with her laptop balanced on her knees. Carlos joined her, peering over her shoulder as she navigated to the website linked in the ad. The page detailed the study, explaining that it involved testing a new approach to curb nicotine addiction, with phases conducted both at home and in a lab setting.
“This looks legitimate,” Carlos said, reading the fine print. “It’s run by a research group affiliated with the university hospital. They even have contact information.”
Maria nodded, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I think I should sign up. What do we have to lose? If it helps me quit, it could change everything.”
He kissed her cheek. “I’m with you. Go for it.”
She filled out the online form, entering her name, age, contact details, and a brief history of her smoking habit, how she started in her early twenties during stressful university days and now went through a pack a day. The form asked about family support, and she mentioned Carlos’s willingness to help. When she hit submit, a confirmation message appeared, stating that she would hear back within a few days for an initial screening.
Maria closed the laptop and leaned back, a mix of nervousness and hope washing over her. For the first time in years, the thought of a smoke-free life felt within reach.
Chapter 2
A few days after submitting the form, Maria received an email scheduling an initial appointment at the research facility for the following morning. She showed it to Carlos over breakfast, her nerves evident as she sipped her coffee. He agreed to take the morning off work to accompany her, squeezing her hand in reassurance before they dropped the children at school and headed out.
The facility was a modern building on the outskirts of the city, with clean white walls and a reception area that smelled faintly of antiseptic. A nurse greeted them, leading Maria to a small exam room while Carlos waited in a nearby lounge. The doctor, a middle-aged man named Dr. Ramirez explained the eligibility phase, emphasizing that only a small percentage of applicants would qualify based on how their bodies responded to preliminary tests.
Maria nodded, signing the consent forms as Dr. Ramirez prepared the first drug, a clear liquid in a vial that he administered via injection. He told her it was a mild sedative to monitor her baseline reactions, but in truth, it was designed to induce a state of heightened suggestibility. Once it took effect, he began the tests, asking her to perform simple tasks like standing on one foot, reciting the alphabet backward, and then more unusual ones, such as barking like a dog or pretending to swim on the floor. Maria complied without hesitation, her movements fluid and unquestioning, her mind foggy but obedient.
After noting her responses, Dr. Ramirez administered a second drug, this one intended to counteract the first and restore normal cognition. He repeated similar requests, but now Maria frowned, asking why she should do such silly things and refusing outright when he pushed further. She crossed her arms, insisting on explanations, her usual assertiveness returning. The doctor smiled faintly, jotting down notes, and concluded the session, telling her they would analyze the results and contact her soon.
Carlos rejoined her as they left the building, the midday sun warm on their faces. In the car ride home, Maria recounted the odd tasks, laughing a bit at how ridiculous some felt, but admitting she couldn’t recall everything clearly from the first part. Carlos listened, his arm around her shoulder at a stoplight, but neither was certain about qualification, the doctor’s neutral tone leaving them in limbo. At home, they prepared lunch together, the uncertainty hanging in the air as Maria lit a cigarette out of habit, then stubbed it out halfway, frustrated with herself.
That afternoon, while Maria was folding laundry and Carlos reviewed work emails, her phone rang. She answered, her expression shifting from curiosity to surprise as the voice on the other end congratulated her on qualifying for the study. The coordinator explained that her responses fit the profile perfectly, and they scheduled a new appointment for the next day to begin the paid phase, where Carlos would play a key role in the at-home components. Maria hung up, turning to Carlos with a wide smile, the news lifting the earlier doubt as they hugged in the living room.
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