The UTI from hell is searing its way through my body with sharp spasms and intermittent torpedoes of pain.

TODAY IS BATH DAY! Woo-hoo! It’s always so damn pleasant to start my day with an assisted bath. I wish I could request one every day, but the hospice administrator would probably accuse me of acting like Princess Grace. I guess it never hurts to ask, though. Right?

It occurs to me that extension cords are a very important part of my life.

THURSDAY, 8/30/2018, 10:03 A.M. Happy, happy Thursday! It’s a few minutes past 10 a.m., Sam is enjoying his first nap of the day (he loves being retired!) and when he wakes up I’ll ask for some help moving to my computer workstation. The process requires: 1) a great deal of liquid Morphine approximately 15 minutes in advance; 2) help sitting up; 3) help standing; 4) repositioning my catheter bag; and 5) speedy readjustment of my catheter tube so I’m not actually sitting on the damn thing. (If I sit or sleep on top of my catheter cord I wind up with open wounds on my legs.)

The weirdest product on Wal-Mart.com’s virtual grocery shelves: B&M Canned Brown Bread.

WEDNESDAY, 8/29/2018, 12:07 P.M. I’m already not having a very good day and it’s only a few minutes past noon. I think my big issue right now is skin pain, especially a small area on my inner right thigh. My skin is unbearably sensitive, and right now I’ve got a pruny, agony-riddled expression on my face that’s probably nasty enough to scare away the neighbors, I’m gritting what’s left of my teeth, and I started moaning — rhythmically — about half an hour ago. Sam can’t hear me because he’s asleep, but if I wanted to wake him I’m pretty sure I could do it ... and he’d jump up to diagnose the problem and find out how he can help. God bless Sam ...

Canned beef tastes exactly like mom’s pot roast, minus the dinner-table drama.

I can’t believe it’s already 4:50 p.m. on a muggy Tuesday afternoon here, and I’m just getting started on today’s Howdygram post! Sam is in the other room gabbing with the hospice chaplain — the one whose name isn’t Charlie — and I can’t decide if I’d rather: 1) type; 2) sleep; or 3) eat things. To tell you the truth, I think my answer would be: ALL OF THE ABOVE, KATIE!

Sam has a meeting today with the hospice chaplain. No, his name isn’t “Charlie.”

Hello, shalom and who’s-your-mama from the screwballs at Howdygram headquarters! It’s 4:20 p.m. on a hot and sticky Monday afternoon here in north Texas — a steamy 95° last time I checked — and we’re finally through with our scheduled hospice visitors until tomorrow. This morning I saw my C.N.A. (for bathing and hygiene) at 11 and then my R.N. (to check my vital signs and the wounds on my legs) about an hour ago. Tomorrow Sam and I have an appointment at 11 with my hospice social worker, Theresa, to finalize the logistics for our mid-September “respite hoo-hah” … which is actually my five-day stay at The Villages of Lake Highlands nursing home in Dallas. (Only 18 days to go. Oy.) And last but not least, tomorrow at 4 p.m. Sam will meet with the hospice chaplain — no, his name isn’t “Charlie” — to talk about whatever subjects they usually talk about. They always sit in the living room and I can’t hear them. I’ve tried. (Stop laughing.)

It’s still Sunday. See what happens when you’re a housebound old coot?

Oh my God, what a day. I’m not sure I can even begin to describe Sunday’s “whine list,” but I’ll give it my best shot for the sake of Howdygram readers far and wide who check in every day to find out what the hell’s going on around here. First, however, you should know that I’m still alive and happy … but not necessarily in that order.

As a typical senior citizen, my concerns mostly revolve around eating things and defecating.

SATURDAY, 8/25/2018, 12:19 A.M. It’s Saturday morning, about 19 minutes past midnight, and I’m moaning on the chaise, unable to move and feeling so goddamn horrible that I almost can’t stand it following two very miserable days of pain. I can’t go into too much detail — sorry, not even if you beg — but I suppose I can tell you that: 1) I’m unbearably constipated; 2) the worst of the pain right now is in my knees, thighs, shoulders and upper arms; and 3) I’ve been developing open “cuts” on the back of my left thigh where my catheter cord glues itself to the barrier cream on my skin. The pain, in a word, is REALLY, REALLY SHITTY. (Okay, fine … three words.)

Glue your first-born child to the inner cover of a laptop computer and swing it over your head.

It’s Thursday morning, just a sprinkling of minutes past 10 a.m., and I’m grieved to announce that Sam went to bed last night without turning on my oxygen generator … and I really needed it because I’ve been congested for the last couple of days and TRYING MY DAMNDEST TO ”HOCK A LOOGIE.” Whether or not I’ll be successful still remains to be seen. (I’ve never been especially good at hocking loogies. Stay tuned.) Incidentally, THE NO-RINSE SHAMPOO CAP FOR INVALIDS that I mentioned in yesterday’s Howdygram post [click here] actually contains a small amount of the lousiest conditioner I’ve ever used, and believe me … I’ve tried plenty of lousy conditioners over the years. This one makes my hair feel lumpy. (For the record, the model in the photo looks absolutely nothing like me. I DON’T HAVE A PUCKERED NECK.)

Sam is shopping for a pedometer and I’ve been pondering an overly-generous squirt of liquid Morphine.

TUESDAY, 8/21/2018, 10:31 A.M. Yo, boys and girls, and happy Tuesday morning to you and yours from the fine folks at Howdygram headquarters! Sam just left for the mall, where he’s hoping to find the perfect pair of jeans for his trip to California in September. He lost a considerable number of pounds earlier this year, and shiny new pants are always the best way to celebrate a weight loss … right? Of course, I’m a certifiable Google genius, which means I’ll try to find Sam’s perfect jeans online before he actually parts with any money in a retail store. If the same brand, style, size and color are available for less dough anywhere on the Internet, I’ll track ‘em down!

I want to cancel my goddamn dental insurance already!

It’s been a rough afternoon around here, and I need a nice refreshing Howdygram post to calm me down a little. The crisis du jour revolves around MetLife Dental and our ongoing effort to collect some dough on the claim that’s been outstanding since — ready for this? — JANUARY. Every time we call MetLife Dental it’s the same stupid confusion, the same stupid “missing information,” the same stupid bullshit. Today, for example, they wanted my “group” number (there isn’t a group number … I’m not a MetLife employee!), the name of my dentist and my dentist’s tax I.D.

I think I destroyed my vocal chords this morning after insufficiently swallowing my medications.

Ahh, it’s Sunday! We just scooted past 12 midnight — okay, I’m lying … it’s 12:56 a.m. — and I feel perky enough to write at least one fucking sentence before I fall asleep again. For the record, I spend most of my time either falling asleep or being asleep. I think it has to do with all the drugs I take, and which drugs I take: Norco, extended release Morphine and liquid Morphine. And at least twice a day I take all three at the same time, which fucks me up bigly, and I absolutely love it. Woo-hoo!

Remember … the Alamo is nothing at which to sneeze.

Good morning, boys and girls! Well, okay, it’s not really morning … it just feels like morning because Sam woke me up a couple of minutes ago to say good night and remind me to take my bedtime meds, so I decided to stay awake for a little while and work on the Howdygram. Got it?

Do you have any idea how many glorious meals an elderly person can make from canned food?!

It’s Wednesday morning, and it’s good to be alive! I won’t get too dramatic with you (if I can help it), but lately I’m beginning to have a different view of life. For instance, I treasure every Popsicle … and I frequently ponder the beautiful canned goods in my pantry, a few of which include: 1) Del Monte Zucchini in Italian Style Tomato Sauce; 2) pickled beets; 3) Chef Boyardee Chili Mac, Mac & Cheese, Ravioli, and Spaghetti Rings with Fetal Meatballs; 4) Del Monte Whole New Potatoes; 5) Ro-Tel Diced Tomatoes; 6) Campbell’s Chicken Gravy. With a pantry like this, do you blame me? Do you have any idea how many glorious meals an elderly person can make from canned food like that?!

I must be hungry. There’s no other explanation for the first paragraph of this post.

There’s nothing quite like the “glug” and “sputter” of an oxygen generator.

TUESDAY, 8/14/2018, 6:27 A.M. It’s barely 6:30 in the morning here at Howdygram headquarters, and I’ve been awake for two hours already. I’ve also consumed a lot of pills, half a glass of Golden Peach soda, a container of Yoplait Boston Creme Pie yogurt (meh) and two extremely tropical Popsicles. Ahh, I’m stuffed!

I still do my own HTML coding for the Howdygram. Impressed?

It’s still frustrating when I’m working on a Howdygram post and can’t fix HTML coding errors. Yes, I still do my own coding for the Howdygram! This evening, for instance, I had issues coding the Recipe Retardo box. Somehow the background color wasn’t right, and the “padding” — the blank space between the ruled box and where the text begins — was wacky. So I kept deleting and starting over, deleting and starting over, and on and on, until I got what I wanted. Arrgh! And if that’s not enough, during it all Sam and I had to deal with a few “issues” about his lack of sleep, feeling exhausted (Sam), not eating enough (Sam), not realizing what day of the week it is (me), etc., until I thought my brain would go KABLOOEY already.

I have to wreck some truly excellent progress by confessing to a few stupid setbacks.

After spending eight productive hours last night sitting at my computer workstation, I have to wreck some truly excellent progress — finally making headway against my latest urinary tract infection; inventing a new recipe even though I’m practically bedridden; eliminating all the horrible, dry “alligator” skin from my feet and shins — by confessing to a few stupid setbacks. I’ll begin, therefore, by discussing the aforementioned setbacks in question. They are: 1) my skin is splitting; 2) my nose is dried out from wearing a cannula all the damn time; and 3) at the moment I can’t think of anything else. However, the “splitting skin” mentioned in item #1 is probably about an inch long on the left side of my body … located parallel to my waistline, below my rib cage and slightly around towards my back. (Got that? There’s a biology quiz on Wednesday.) To me, it feels like a giant paper cut, and when I asked Sam to take a look at it last night with a flashlight, he said it looked like a giant paper cut ... and he said it’s been bleeding, too.

Sam just got home from Costco with a tub of Tide Pods and no Brownie Brittle.

FRIDAY, AUGUST 10, 2018, 8:17 A.M. Happy Friday morning from north Texas, where it’s dark, dismal, thundering and raining hard. There are, however, a couple of “positives” from all this: 1) we desperately need the moisture; and 2) the high temperature today will only be 81°, which is practically cold for the middle of August around here. We’re expecting several thunderstorms (off and on) all day today, part of the day on Saturday and Sunday, too. This report is provided free of charge by the staff meteorologists at Howdygram headquarters … which is actually just me and the weather section of Yahoo News.

If you can find time to remember the Alamo, you’re a better man than I am, Gunga Din!

Hi-de-ho, everybody … it’s 10 a.m. Thursday morning, and we’re in the middle of a thunderstorm here … thunder and lightning and rain! I’m on the chaise in the family room, and Sam is in the garage with the overhead door open, watching the storm roll through. It’s like being part of a National Geographic special.

Sam and I are pulling an “all-nighter” tonight … and I can’t wait to tell you why.

TUESDAY, 8/7/2018, 11:39 A.M. Here’s wishing a happy, happy Tuesday to you and yours from Howdygram headquarters! Sam and I are relaxing here in the family room with Popsicles and The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974) starring Walter Matthau and Robert Shaw. It’s a lovely, lazy summer day here in Texas, and in case you’re wondering … RETIREMENT IS FUCKING FABULOUS.

My catheter tube disconnected tonight.

Hey, boys and girls, it’s me again … and what a day it’s been! For your possible interest I’ll list (and chronicle) the three visits I had today from various hospice medical personnel.

BATH-TIME WITH LETITIA. Letitia showed up at noon for a pleasant bath (mine, of course) and alpha-hydroxy cream therapy for my feet and legs. She’ll be back on Wednesday and Friday for more.

I choose not to mention the Alamo because my brain is at the czar’s Winter Palace in St. Petersburg, Russia.

Yo, shalom and hi-de-ho from the nerve center of Howdygram headquarters! It’s a pleasant Sunday morning here in north Texas, although I wouldn’t know anything whatsoever about the weather, the temperature, the humidity, or when we’re expecting our next rainfall … because I never leave this room (or this house), and if I want to know any pedestrian weather statistics I’ll simply have to rely on The Weather Channel. Therefore ...

Sam might make a scouting visit to The Villages of Lake Highlands today.

I’d like to begin this post with a general overview of Saturday, August 4 … using neatly-typed bright red subheads. Thank you.

I’VE BEEN COMPLETELY UNCONSCIOUS since 8 o’clock this morning and honestly don’t remember anything after that … although my day started long before 8 a.m. Frankly, I remember first waking up around 4, with Sam whispering that I never took my bedtime meds. So I opened my eyes, yanked off my cannula (plastic breathing apparatus), swallowed a fistful of pills and announced that I’d like to sit at my computer workstation for a few hours. So that’s what I did, and I was still sitting at my desk — developing several new greeting card designs — when Sam left to go for his morning walk at 5:45. By the time he got home, though, I was exhausted and nodding off, so I took a nice juicy dose of liquid Morphine, shlepped myself back to the chaise lounge and passed out.

Today’s little gang includes useful scripts, pleasant display fonts and a cute collection of ice cream dingbats.

Happy Friday afternoon, boys and girls, and welcome to my second post of the day! I just finished up a late afternoon appointment with my hospice R.N., Stella, who stopped by to see if I’m making any progress with my urinary tract infection (answer: YES), are the antibiotics working (answer: YOU BETCHA) and when was the last time I pooped (answer: WHOA, NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS). She also checked my vital signs (blood pressure: 116/60), and then we confirmed a date for my next catheter change (August 23). Whew. On top of that, my hospice C.N.A. was here this morning for a bath (for me, obviously) and also for a therapeutic foot rub to remove some dead flaky skin. It’s definitely been hectic around here today.

I don’t like Clint Eastwood and I refuse to recommend any of his movies.

It’s August, boys and girls, and time once again for Summer Under the Stars on Turner Classic Movies! TCM features a different movie star every day of the month, giving you a chance to see 24 hours of nonstop Peter Lorre movies (for instance) or maybe Doris Day movies. Here’s TCM’s schedule for the rest of the month, and as each few days approach I’ll let you know which movies you shouldn’t plan to miss under any circumstances. (Do with this information whatever you will ... although watching great TV is the general idea here!)

Maybe it’s time to start thinking about Manischewitz matzo balls for lunch.

Happy Thursday morning to you and yours from Howdygram headquarters! It’s 10:37 a.m. and I just woke up. I realize this must sound slothful and indolent to those of you who still lead productive lives, but I’m retired, handicapped and housebound … and already I can tell I’m having difficulties today with tremors. The tremors mostly affect my hands and fingers … crazy, jerky, repetitive motions. For instance, if I’m deleting a series of emails by pressing the “delete” key, my fingers will continue to strike the keyboard for minutes afterwards until I make a conscious decision to actually move my hand. Very weird, very annoying … and very scary sometimes, too, especially when the tremors start up all over my body, and that includes my tongue, my mouth, my arms and my legs, and even occasionally my eyelids! Today, so far, the tremors are limited to my fingers and both hands.

Only six weeks until Marcy’s 2018 nursing home adventure. Holy crap!

TUESDAY, JULY 31, 2018, 10:19 A.M. While Sam and I wait for my hospice social worker to drop in today I thought I’d get started on my Howdygram post. I’ve only been awake for an hour so far, but from the peace and solace of my chaise lounge I’ve observed all of the following: 1) my right shoulder is fucking killing me; 2) I’m having some trouble breathing; 3) I wish the hospice pharmacy would deliver my antibiotics already because this urinary tract infection is DRIVING ME NUTS; and 4) Sam is watching The Princess Bride (1987) starring Robin Wright and Mandy Patinkin. (I’m not a big fan. I prefer movies from the 1930s.)