The Howdygram 2: 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.)

For the record, Sam hasn’t been feeling very well, either, so we’re both hoping today will be much better than yesterday … and much MUCH better than the day before, particularly where kvetch item #1 is concerned. And concerning item #3, for a while my hospice R.N. will increase her home visits to twice a week in order to monitor and treat those open cuts on the back of my thigh. Sam can apply bandages, of course, but my nurse does fancy crap with a spray-on wound wash, a triple antibiotic ointment, etc.

SATURDAY, 8/25/2018, 1:49 P.M. What a night! I slept like a rock for slightly more than 11 hours … solid, restorative sleep that helped get rid of all those body aches. I woke up feeling much better. Unfortunately, there are a pair of crises du jour, both carried over from last night: 1) My oxygen generator broke down shortly before Sam went to bed and we’re still waiting for a new one to be delivered; and 2) constipation. (Still.)

Good news, boys and girls. Sam’s reward for my physical pain (and constipation) struggles is lunch from China City … as soon as he goes to pick it up! Today I’ll be feasting on Steamed Dumplings, Tempura Tofu and Jalapeño Chicken (extra spicy). I’m so excited I think I’ll celebrate with a brain hemorrhage. Seriously.

He’s at it again, everybody … the Moron-in-Chief apparently can’t stop tweeting about impeachment, and that’s probably the LAST subject he’d want Americans buzzing about! Trump told Fox News’ interviewer Ainsley Earhardt that: “If I ever got impeached, I think the market would crash, I think everybody would be very poor.” Holy shit. I don’t know if this clown seriously believes that or if he’s just trying out a new comedy monolog!

Know what? I completely forgot to get back to you about my dental insurance fiasco … that eight-month-long ordeal with MetLife — about a claim I originally filed in January — that went absolutely nowhere. Every time we called MetLife Dental it was the same stupid confusion, the same stupid “missing information” on my claim form, the same stupid runaround. On Monday, for example, they were asking for my “group” number (I don’t have one … I’m not a MetLife employee), the name of my dentist and my dentist’s tax I.D. For the ten millionth time.

So … Sam called Elite Mobile Dental, got the information MetLife needed and then called them back. When we called MetLife on Tuesday to find out if they made any progress with the information we provided on the day before, we received a pleasant surprise: Of course not!

So Sam hung up the phone, and five minutes later I cancelled my dental insurance policy. End of story. FUCK METLIFE DENTAL AND FUCK THE HORSE THEY RODE IN ON. I no longer have the time or patience to deal with crap like this ... especially since I no longer have any teeth!

SATURDAY, 10:23 P.M. How time flies! It’s been a lazy, sleepy day at Howdygram headquarters, punctuated by one or two good movies — one of which was Honky Tonk (1941) starring Clark Gable and Lana Turner — frequent naps and occasional reruns of “The People’s Court.”

At the moment, however, Sam is asleep on the sofa, the house is silent except for the comforting hum of our new oxygen generator, and I’m breathing well while quietly plotting my next meal. And as soon as I do, I’ll have to concoct a way to wake Sam.

Incidentally, earlier today Sam and I heard from our hospice social worker, Theresa, requesting a meeting to discuss our upcoming “respite” event in September … the one where I go to a luxury nursing facility for five days while Sam heads to California to visit his friends and family. I’M GETTING NERVOUS, and our meeting with Theresa will give me a chance to vent my concerns a little. For instance:

I’ve never been especially comfortable with ambulance rides. Will my trip to the nursing home will be any different? If yes, please explain in detail. For instance, is there a free soft drink service available? Will the driver do a fast-food drive-thru window for me? Which ones?
At what point will my commode be transported for me?
Can I order a cheese omelet for lunch every day? If yes, thank you. If no, why the hell not?
What’s on the bedtime snack cart?