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That's why, for me, the recent news that kills 11,000 people a year didn't come as much of a surprise. Aged 32, my lung capacity is just 44 per cent, which means I'm severely breathless after climbing a flight of stairs; add the effects of passive smoking and things get even harder. I've never had a single drag on a cigarette, even in my mildly rebellious teenage years, because I knew that to try smoking would be the equivalent of attempting suicide (the irony is that when I cough, which is often, I sound like a 40-a-day smoker).

The government's intention to from most enclosed public areas is a breath of fresh air (excuse the pun!), but the fact remains that most pubs, bars and restaurants won't be smoke-free for another four years. By that time, since I might need oxygen to help me breathe, I'm not likely to be going down the pub anyway. Wetherspoon's, thankfully, have decided to take action in advance of the ban, and some of their venues are already smoke-free. I visited a branch last Friday (solely for the purposes of this article, you understand) and found that, contrary to popular belief, the bar was still buzzing. Groups of smokers were standing outside under patio heaters (the only place they could smoke - ha!) and there was an equally lively but wonderfully smog-free atmosphere inside. The 2.00am late licence might have been the attraction for many punters, but the non-smoking policy certainly wasn't keeping people away.

But if I had my way, smoking would be banned in all public places, enclosed or not. These days, you'll often find me at Preston North End football matches (since marrying Gavin this is another cross I've had to bear, in addition to having CF). Even in these huge and open stadiums, you can bet that if the stand allows smoking, I'll have a chain smoker in front of me. I may choose to have the misery of seeing Preston lose (usually!) but I don't choose to pay for the misery of inhaling cigarette smoke for two hours.

If you think I'm a smoker-hater, you're wrong. Although I've always known the damage passive smoking does to me, I've never shied away from friends who've smoked. I would have ended up a lonely recluse if I had, let's face it! In fact, I even shared a flat with three girls who smoked. But problems arose when the open-plan lounge, kitchen and dining room started filling with smoke every evening, and I found myself cooking and eating amidst the lingering fumes. In the end, I was forced to confront my flatmates, and asked if they would smoke in their bedrooms instead. The answer was a resounding: "No!" Why? Because they hated the smell! I remember asking myself whether I was really living with the same three, highly intelligent people I'd chosen to move in with, their thinking was so illogical and selfish.

I'm still close friends with my ex-flatmates, although they're now also ex-smokers. One of them recently told me that, in retrospect, they all feel bad that they weren't more considerate. These days I only have one friend who still smokes, and whenever he's round my place he always disappears into the garden if he wants a fag. Like many smokers, he's also courteous about not smoking when you're eating a meal in a restaurant. But that still changes as soon as the last person has taken their final mouthful - straight away, he's lighting up, and I may as well have asked for a side serving of fresh tobacco! When the ban comes into effect, how refreshing it will be to taste your food in a restaurant rather than just a mouthful of someone else's ash!

I've always drawn the line at going out with a smoker, however. The thought of kissing someone with stale cigarette breath fills me with repulsion and if the relationship was to go anywhere the guy would have to give up smoking. How could I be expected to love and respect someone who, if they weren't prepared to give up, clearly had no respect for my already shortened lifespan? In the good old days when I was single (only joking, Gav!) I did my time in pubs and clubs, but since I get out of breath dancing as it is (some might say that's a saving grace!), the smokey atmosphere meant I couldn't keep going for long. Sometimes it would even set off a torrent of uncontrollable coughing that left onlookers concerned, the risk of which often kept me off the dance floor in the first place.

Had this ban been imposed 10 years ago, when I was spending more time in pubs, I'm sure I would be in far better health than I am now. Instead, I spend a fair bit of time in hospital, sharing wards with ... yep, you guessed it, people who've developed lung conditions as a result of smoking. That's when it hits home just how much I hate people smoking. From the moment they first light up, inflicting their smoke on those of us who don't want it, to the day they take up one of our valuable hospital beds, it's just plain selfish.