As a child I grew up in a house full of smokers. I was the youngest of six children. My mother smoked Winstons. My father smoked Marlboros. My brother smoked Camels. Two of my sisters smoked. From birth to age 16, I lived in a house with a constant haze of cigarette smoking that I drew in with every breath. And I didn't understand that there was anything offensive or dangerous about it, because it was all I'd ever known. My parents both died of smoking related illnesses when I was in my teens. I lived alone for many years while I worked and put myself through seven years of college. During that time I was very infrequently around people who were smoking. After a few years, I noticed that even the slightest scent of cigarette smoke would make me start to feel ill. If I was around it for more than a few moments I'd become nauseated and asthmatic. Even today, whenever I smell cigarette smoke, I can't help but start to feel sick, and have to ask the smoker to extinguish it or I have to leave the room. Even if people around me aren't bothered by smell, I can still smell it and I know what it is that I'm breathing. You can even hang an air freshener up and talk about the importance of smokers' rights, but I'll still feel sick. If you've never been completely immersed in cigarette smoke and watched it choke the life out of people you love, it may not bother you much at all to stand in a room full of people while they are smoking. But your telling me that it really doesn't bother you isn't going to change the way I feel. Nor will telling me it's all in my head. Because I still know what it is that I'm breathing, and I'll still feel the way I feel.