 |
| James Garner and Joan Hackett in “Support Your Local Sheriff.” |
I think you should know that I’m having another prescription battle with the hospice pharmacy. It’s not “another” battle, actually, it’s the same battle … but one that never ends! You may recall that I recently relinquished both of my Morphine prescriptions — extended-release tablets and a fast-acting liquid — in lieu of 10mg Hydrocodone tablets, six per day. The Hydrocodone prescription was supposed to kick in four days ago but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of it yet … and I’m getting VERY, VERY PISSED OFF. So a few hours ago I texted the hospice administrator to find out what the fuck is going on, and she promised on a stack of Bibbles — nope, that’s not a typo — that I’ll have a supply of the world’s-best-opioid within the next three days. However, if they keep screwing around with this I might have to get evil with them. (I’m not kidding.)
 |
| Behold … 10mg Hydrocodone tablets. Best opioid on earth. |
SUNDAY, 11/4/2018, 7:14 P.M. Switching to standard time really fucks with a person’s brain cells. At 6 p.m. tonight it was already pitch black outside … and now, at a few minutes past seven, I’m starving and feel compelled to wake Sam (forcibly, if necessary) from his luxurious late Sunday afternoon nap. Frankly, it occurs to me that I haven’t eaten anything yet today. Not breakfast, not lunch and not dinner, either. I haven’t even had a goddamn snack … not counting a pair of tropical Popsicles shortly before Sam left this afternoon to take a short drive. (I think he needed to recover from our morning bedpan episode.)
Incidentally, in case you’re wondering why the Howdygram hasn’t touched upon the subject of “politics” for the last few months it’s because I have no stomach for it any more. And I’ve also unsubscribed from every desperate, politically-charged bullshit email for the same reason. I don’t know how it happened, but at the beginning of the year I wound up on every Democratic congressperson’s email list as a target either to donate money, join a phone bank, help knock on doors, stuff envelopes, come to a rally, show up at a town hall, stick a sign on my front lawn … and on and on and on. I’m talking about 30 to 40 emails a day until I was ready to blow my brains out. And that’s not counting all the Internet publications begging for money, too … Daily Kos, Raw Story, Politicus USA, Wonkette and Talking Points Memo, to name just a few. Every single day.
Bottom line: I cast my absentee ballot a month ago and I want the Democrats to win. Period. I’m done. SOMEBODY WAKE ME WHEN THE SHIT’S OVER! Thank you.
MONDAY, 11/5/2018, 12:17 A.M. It’s the “wee hours” of Monday morning and I’m not breathing very well right now. I’ve got some audible wheezing in my lungs, mild chest congestion, and for the last few hours I’ve been choking on a small army of frogs in my throat. Therefore as soon as Sam wakes up from his nap I’ll ask him to turn on my oxygen generator and pour me a gigantic tumbler of iced tea so I’ll be comfortable for the rest of the night. I also plan to watch — don’t laugh — either Pollyanna (1960) starring Hayley Mills or Meet Me in St. Louis (1944) starring Judy Garland and Margaret O’Brien.
Thank you for reading this. The people of Texas salute you!
No comments:
Post a Comment