He saved my life and I don't even know who he was

I was being forced to rent a crappy room in an even crappier building. I didn't want to do it but I thought I had no choice given my situation with my money and my health. I was ready to hand over the first weeks rent when the landlord had to go and tend to some people he had kicked out of the building the week before.

I was waiting for him to come back when the man who lived in the room next ot me opened his door and whispered for me to come over. He cautiously looked for the landlord (who had just introduced us minutes before) and he hurriedly told me that no matter what I did not to rent a room! He said that the people the landlord was talking to were raising hell and were mad that he had kicked them out and I would be renting their old room.

I thanked him and I left without even saying goodbye to the landlord. The tennant who had just warned me retreated back into his room.

A week later there was a murder in that building.

A few days later the 3 people I had seen (hellraisers) were arrested for the murder.

They were convicted.

That man, whom I had never seen, and will never see again, more than likely saved my life.

It's NOT the Way to Go!

This post is about having sex when you have heart disease. The best advise is "proceed with caution".

You know the old joke about the man having sex with the beautiful blonde and he has a heart attack and the punchline is "What a way to go!"?

Well I can tell you from experience it is definitely NOT the way to go.

After being diagnosed with my heart problem, I had started to feel a little better so I called up my "friend with benefits". I invited him over and we were having our usual fun time nothing too strenuous mind you-just a good relaxing evening. When it came time for my "big moment" I did not think I was going to live through it. My heart had never pounded like that before ( or a better way to phrase it is, "my heart had never NOT pounded like that before) and once the "Big O" had kicked in there was no turning back!

By the third heartbeat I literally thought I was going to die! It seemed like an eternity between each beat and I thought each beat would literally be my last. The fear in me completely overrode anything else I was feeling. In fact it completely ruined my afterglow.

Afterward I was nauseous and had a terrible headache. Unfortunately for me that is probably the last time that I'll ever have sex. When I told my dr. about it(completely embarrassing but I needed to know) he could not believe that I had even attempted to engage in such activity. He told me that I was not supposed to be doing that in any way, shape or form. I asked him why nobody had told me. He just said that in my condition they thought that I knew better. So my advise is listen to your dr. if you know what is good for you!

Fortunately it is 5 years later...things have changed for the better.

If You Could Go On a Reality TV Show, What Would It Be?

I am a reality TV junkie. I would love to go on Survivor. The show started when I was caring for my dad and I couldn't leave him to try out for the show. After he died I intended to try out at the first opportunity but I started getting sick (with my heart unbeknownst to me). At first I intended to get stronger and then go on the show. Now I know it will be an unreallized dream.

However, I did qualify to go on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" 7 times back in the Regis days. Back then you had to call in and answer 5 fastest finger type questions. They qualified 40 people daily and then 10 were drawn randomly to be on the show. (as I understood it) I was thrilled the first few times I qualified. I just knew I was going to go on the show and leave a millionaire. There was one thing I could say about myself in those days, "I was a veritable fount of useless knowledge."

I never did make it through the drawing to be in the final ten.

If I had on iota of talent I would go on America's Got Talent. But since I don't ... oh well. I keep trying to discover acts however. I have a really cool mouth harp act that I am going to submit on the youtube auditions this year. I wan't get anything out of it though. Just the pleasure of saying, "I knew them when...."

Remember Dark Shadows

I sure do. I was only around 5 when it was on the first time. My mom would watch her afternoon soaps. I don't remember the order but I do remember "The Secret Storm," "The Edge of Night," "General Hospital," and "Dark Shadows."

We weren't even allowed in the living room when "Dark Shadows" was on, mostly because I had nightmares every night. I do remember sneaking up behind her recliner and peeking around it to watch "Dark Shadows." I remember being terrified by it but I couldn't resist. At least until the day I heard a haunting voice calling through the mist for Angelique....Angelique... I watched as another woman (probably Angelique) walked through the fog until she got to the cliff and there was the most terrifying apparition ever! Her hair blowing in the wind around her obviously dead face. I don't think I ever sneaked and watched it again!

The in high school they had "Dark Shadows" reruns. All my friends would watch it and race to school the next day to discuss the episode we had seen the night before. We were avid followers.

Last but not least there were my first lucid dream. As I mentioned I had nightmares ( now called night terrors) every night. My poor mom was up with me sometimes several times a night trying to calm/wake me from my dreams. She used to tell me to make the dream do what I wanted it to. Kill the monster! Make a door and run away! Anyway here is my first lucid dream and the beginning of the end of my nightly nightmares.

I was dreaming that Barnabus Collins was in the room outside my door waiting for me to come out of my room so he could get me. Finally I got tired of that big bully. I marched out of my room right up to his face and told him, "this is MY dream and you don't scare me!" Then I spat a wad of tobacco right iin his eye! I never dreamed about him again. Obviouly my smokeless tobacco assault worked!

The Just Gave Us New Stoves...

There'a Always Another Minimum Wage Job Down the Street

There's always another minimum wage job down the street! That has always been my motto and it has served me well. I wish other people would realize it, there would be a lot less misery in the world if people wouldn't put up with their bosses' crap just to make a nickel. Here's one of my favorite examples:

I went to work at McDonald's. Now this was a part-time job for me. I already had another job that I loved I just needed a little more money at the time. I went into work for the first time arriving about a half hour early just in case I needed to do some preemployment duties such as paperwork or something.

The manager handed me a shirt and tells me to go change, so I went into the restroom. I put on the shirt and right at my nipple was at least a quarter size hole. I went back out and told the manager that I needed another shirt. I informed her that the shirt she had given me had a hole in it in an embarrassing spot. She flung the shirt back at me and told me to "Deal with it."

I started to tell her again that the shirt had a hole in it "right over my nipple". She told me once again that it was a problem that I would have to deal with. So I looked at the shirt. I looked at the manager and I said "Okay".

I tossed the shirt on the counter and I walked out the door. I went across the street to RAX and they gave me a job for the same pay but they gave me a shirt without a hole in it. In the meantime I left the McDonald's manager staring at me with her mouth agape as I walked out the door.

Tra la la

.I lost the seven pounds last night that I gained last Friday. I feel so much better. It felt like a python wrapped around my chest and breathing was so difficult. When I walked it was like raising a cinderblock with each step.

I feel so much better this morning. Usually when that happens the weight stays on for around a month. I guess it wasn't heart related this time. Must mean the ole ticker is clicking at a good pace.

NOW FOR A REPOST OF A BLOG ABOUT THE EFFECT OF MY HEART DISEASE ON MY MOM

5 years ago I was in the hospital dying from heart failure. This diagnosis was a complete surprise to me. I was in the hospital for 5 days the first time. When I was released they sent me home with an oxygen machine and 3 tanks of oxygen. I didn't know how to use them. I was so weak that I didn't think I would make it to my house without passing out.

Once I got home I realized I was too weak to be alone. I made arrangements with my neighbors to continue caring for my animals and I drove to my mom's house. What followed was a week of hell. She was not home much because she had a lot to do that week. I do know that what time she was home she stood over top of me screaming at me to get up and do whatever it was that was upsetting her so bad. I don't remember the exact details. I do remember that she couldn't speak to me without catching her breath. I knew the stress of my diagnosis was too much for her to bear and when she feels that way she lashes out - fast and hard!

I know she was mad about my condition. She was also mad because she wanted me to go to the Social Security Office and take care of signing up for SS disability but they would not give me an appointment for another month. She was mad because I didn't have a 3 month safety cushion to pay my bills, even though I had been sick for 9 months before and had missed tons of work and not asked anybody for any help to pay for anything. ( I didn't go to the hospital because I didn't have insurance which of course worsened my condition). She was mad because I was sleeping almost 24 hours a day and mostly staying up at night. It did not matter to her that I had been working midnight shifts for over a year and I needed time to turn my body clock around as well as to recuperate. Basically she was mad because I was at her house and she didn't want to care for me. The reason I went there was because I had assurred her a 100 times when I was caring for my dad that I would care for her if something ever happenned to her. She told me each time she would do the same for me. Little did I know, she didn't mean a word of it.

She would stand over me shrieking if I was awake and she was home, then she would go upstair and call whomever and laugh and have a most excellent time on the phone. Things came to a head on the 5th. day and she threw a fit on me so bad that I left for my house. I went to Walmart because I needed groceries and I had to ride one of those mobile shoping carts around the store. People would look at me and quickly avert their eyes because I looked like a walking, dead person, or they would look at me with such pity that I would be forced to look away.

On the way home I decided to call her to assure her that I was OK and I was thinking maybe I was just so sick that I had blown things out of proportion and she had not done anything wrong. She threw a fit on me then for "shopping". It didn't matter to her that I had no food in my house and I had to buy some groceries...she was mad that I had spend my last $30 at the store. I knew once I got home though I wouldn't be going back out again because I was too weak.

The next day I started to have severe chest pains again so I went into the hospital again. I called to let her know. She was thrilled because she said I would get better care at the hospital I was in. (she didn't like the first hospital even though there was no doubt they saved my life). The next day I had a heart catherization. I asked her not to come because I knew I would need sleep. She showed up anyway when it was over beaming with motherly light. Absolutely thrilled to be by my side and show the nurses how much she cared for her daughter. I knew then I had misunderstood the entire week before.

They released me 2 days later. They didn't want me to be alone so I called my mom and I asked if I could come to her house. She told me "no". So I went home alone and I knew that I hadn't imagined the previous week, she was just showing motherly devotion at the hospital because she is always a different person in public than she is in private. It is her way.

Now my mom complains because she knows nothing about my heart condition. I only tell her the positive things and I only go around her when I am having a very good day. She tells me now that her doctor told her she had a mini heart attack but doesn't know when it happened. She believes that it was when I was at her house that time. It makes sense given the way she acted. She says that she can't fathom having to bury her daughter, that it will be a pain beyond belief if she has to do that.

I have donated my body to Marshall University Medical School, so she won't have to bury me. Also shere will be no financial burden to my family for funeral expenses. Also, she is not my emergency contact at the hospital. That way she won't receive that dreaded phone call when I finally do kick the bucket.