OK, Somebody explain why this picture is a mirror image of the real thing

In my actual bathroom the sink is to the right of the toilet. Why is it reversed in this picture?

I caught the invisible man leaving my bathroom

What They DON'T Tell You about Heart Disease

I have congestive heart failure. The congestive heart failure is due to sleep apnea which is caused by me being too fat. All my veins and arteries are fine. They are clear with no blockages. My cholesterol is good even though my "good" cholesterol could be better. My heart was enlarged (very much) but it has gone back down to almost normal size. I'm told that hardly ever happens.

When they told me I had a problem I said, "ok, how do we fix it?" I was surprised to learn that "you don't". It is "managed" with medication, diet and exercise. I was told to lose weight (a constant battle that I keep losing). I was given a c-pap machine and have since graduated to a bi-pap machine. I am on oxygen. It used to be around the clock but now I only need it at night or if there is a problem.

What kept sending me to the hospital is a condition called atrial fibrillation. I still have atrial fibrillation but I stubbornly refuse to go to the hospital anymore. I am sick to death of doctors

Atrial Fibrillation, in simple terms, is that your heart has an upper chamber and a lower chamber. Each chamber works together to pump blood through the heart. In my heart the bottom chamber doesn't pump effectively causing the blood to back up into the upper chamber. When this happens instead of both chambers working together they start pumping independently without any rhythm which causes it to work harder and harder. This causes chest pain and possibly death if it doesn't reverse.

My everyday life is affected by being overwhelmingly tired. I don't mean me saying to myself "God I'm tired, I need a break.". I mean lying in bed being too tired to even raise my arms. I can't even shower standing up anymore. I have a chair that I sit in when I shower. I have to park in handicap spots which gets me lots of dirty looks because I don't really look handicapped. If I have to walk across the parking lot to shop then I just don't shop. When I go in the store I have to have a buggy. Not to carry stuff but to prop myself up as I walk through the store. If I forget something as I make my one round through the store it is just forgotten. I don't backtrack to get it. Same thing when I leave the house. If I forget something in the house or truck then it stays there until I go back again.

My truck is a glorified wheelchair. It is always close by because I can't walk very far from it! I get jealous of the old people in the building walking the block to Rite Aid, I can't do it. If I do then I'm in bed for the rest of the day...sometimes more. If I have to work(usually around 4 hours 2 times a week) then that is all I do that day. They give me every concession they can, so I can continue to work. I cook on my days off. I shop on my days off. For years I only did one thing a day because that is all I could do. Now I am quite pleased with myself because I can manage to keep my apartment reasonably clean even though it is cluttered. Housework is my exercise.

My feet and legs look like tree trunks on good days. On bad days I look like the Michelin Man. Puffed up all over. Salt is my mortal enemy. I dream of salt I want it so bad. I do have some but I always live to regret it. A salty fast food meal can put around 10 lbs. on me in a day. If I'm lucky it will come off in around 5 days but usually it hangs on for a month or so. Then if my sodium levels drop too far I suffer cramping all over my body. Sometimes the pain doubles me over.

I take medicine by the handful. 40 meq of potassium, Diovan 160/12.5, 40 mg. torosemide, 50 mg. spironolactone, 600 mg ranitidine, xyzal on a good day. I also have breathing treatments when I need them and various other meds according to what is going on at the time.

The average heart failure patient lives 5 years. My five years was up last June and I am happy to say I feel better now than at any time since my diagnosis. When I was awarded my disability it was because they expected me to die within 3 years. That deadline was up a year and a half ago. So, I'm beating the odds and that's a good thing.

I bought the bra of my dreams!

I mentioned recently that I had bought a bra in my hard to find size of 44B. It was a happy day because that size is nearly impossible to find and it was pretty to boot.

I was shopping in Family Dollar yesterday when a bra caught my eye. It was pretty but it was a 44D which is what all bra makers think about hefty women buying bras. They think we all have big honkin' hooters to match the rest of our body...not so with me. So I put the bra down and started to walk away, when I thought, "Hey, wait a minute."

I went back and picked the bra up and sure enough it was just as I thought. It was sized wrong. There is no way that a woman with size "D"s was going to fit them in that tiny cup. Glory be, I found me another bra...actually 2 of them because they were sold in pairs!

I brought it home and tried it on and eureka...I have 2 pretty new bras and for the first time in my live I am wearing a "D" cup.

Bruno, Who?

Several years ago when I was working at a kennel in West Palm Beach the trainer I was working for transferred to a kennel in Miami. I was saying good-bye to him with a friend and the last thing he did before he pulled out was to reach over and grab me and lay one hell of a kiss on me. He kissed me so hard I got rug burn from his stibble.

Jeannie and I went to the commissary after he left to hang out a little and many of the other trainers were hanging out - as well as my husband. One of the guys asked me if I had seen Bruno leave and I said, " yes".

Jeannie piped in, "Boy, oh boy, did she ever say good-bye to him!" She said it in such a way that of course everybody honed in on her and wanted to know what she meant by that. She laughingly told them about the kiss and everybody started to tease my husband. He took the kidding as good naturedly as any man could who was just hearing that his wife had been kissed by another man. The other guys spent the day making sure that they didn't let him forget about it either.

I got home from work last that night. Bobby met me at the door. He had flowers waiting and we had a very romantic night. Every so often when we were " involved" with each other he would stop everything and say, "Bruno, who?"

He made sure that "Bruno" was the last thing on my mind that night.

It was a wonderful evening.

Lust at First Sight

I was walking with my husband (at the time) to a race. He was a distance runner. We rounded a corner and standing in front of us was one of the most handsome men that I have ever seen in my life. My heart stopped. My mouth dropped open. I was speechless.

In the same second that all this happenned, I realized that my husband was by my side and had just witnessed my astounding reaction to a complete stranger. If that man would have told me to drop to my knees right there on the street, I would have immediately complied - happily I might add!

Well I started laughing uncontrollably. I knew I had been caught dead to rights and I still couldn't take my eyes off of that man. My wonderful husband grabbed my arm and started dragging me along(because I had stopped dead in my tracks). Then the man looked up and saw me laughing and gasping and gaping quite obviously at him. He immediately demanded to know what in the hell I was laughing at.

Thankfully my husband looked at him as we walked by and said "Nothin' Bud, I just told her a good joke."

When we got out of earshot I had to thank my husband for getting me out of that situation. Fortunately he found the whole thing funny. After the race was over he had great delight in informing me that he had soundly beaten the other man

Suicide by Salt

I wrote this the last time I went into the hospital via the emergency room. It is a repost in honor of "Go Red for Heart Disease" month

"Suicide by Salt" that was a joke I made Saturday night at work as I munched on a 99 cent bag of Doritos with a friend. We both chortled happily and continued to enjoy our snacks. I had suspended my diet for the Superbowl and I was determined enjoy that bag of Doritos. I had been craving it for a couple of months.

Saturday night after work was a different story.

I woke up in the middle of a very good dream and my heart was going crazy. It felt like it was skidding to a complete stop and then jump starting again. This feeling is not unfamiliar to me and I wasn't too worried. Then it got worse. Then the chest pain started and just to make sure that I took note of what was happenning I started to get nauseous. None of this is pleasant to experience of course, but I was determined to ignore it and get back to my dream. Then the shortness of breath started. Shortness of breath is impossible to ignore - especially when you're wearing a C-pap machine and air is being forced down your throat!

It was at this point that I knew that I had to go the the ER and I started apologizing to God for misbehaving with the Doritos and promising to never be so stupid again if he would just let me live!

I went to the emergency room. As usual they took one look at me and moved me to the head of the line. When they checked my initial blood pressure it was 195 over 115 and my heart rate was well over 100. Fortunately things started to settle down soon after that and a couple of hours later I was hopeful they would send me home. I went in at 1 am and at 7 am they told me they were going to keep me.

When I saw my dr. he wanted to know what happenned and I told him. I also told him that I had cut my medicine in half starting January 13th. and I promised him that I would take it faithfully as I have for the past year and a half if he would just send me home. He pointed out that I didn't saved any money because now I have a massive hospital bill to pay. At least he did agree to send me home though because it was obvious what caused the problem to begin with.

Now I am weak again. I am on O2 most of the day again. It will take me at least a month to get to where I can function at a level where I can pretend to be normal again. I had a good run for about 6 weeks. Now I have to start over and build up again.

I'm really sick of this shit, but I have nobody to blame but myself!