Sam went pie-shopping today. He was a man with a mission.

Hello, people! It’s 11 p.m. Thanksgiving night, and our stomachs are hung by the chimney with care. Wait … wrong holiday. I’m confused. The problem is, Sam and I didn’t see hide nor hair of a turkey today … nor stuffing, nor gravy, nor lumpy mashed potatoes, nor cranberry sauce, nor pie of any kind whatsoever. We didn’t see hide nor hair of ANYTHING today … although Sam had a breakfast burrito for lunch and I ate a small plate of leftover chicken egg foo young around 4 p.m.

Canned tamales, a frozen Banquet Chicken Pot Pie, baked beans … Happy Thanksgiving!

Holy shit, what a week we’ve had.

Sam’s four-day fever finally broke early Tuesday morning — hallelujah! — allowing him to stand on his feet for more than 30 seconds without crumbling and even hold a brief conversation.

Please think some healing thoughts for Sam.

SUNDAY, 11/24/2019, 10:09 P.M. Yo, people. It’s a few minutes after 10 p.m. on Sunday night and Sam is still sick … DAY FOUR! He’s wrapped in a fleece blanket on the sofa and can barely stand up. I wish I knew what to do for him, poor baby. He’s been absolutely miserable. And when Sam is miserable, I’m miserable, too!

What happens when your caregiver gets sick?!

Happy Friday, boys and girls. I’m sad to report that my sweet Sam is sick. I’m thankful he gathered his wits — of which he has many! — and got in to see his doctor right away yesterday morning. The diagnosis …

I can still name everybody in my fourth grade class (almost), even Herbie Rotfeld.

SATURDAY, 11/16/2019, 8:13 P.M. I’m wishing y’all a pleasant Saturday evening from Howdygram headquarters. Sam is in the kitchen fritterin’ around with my dinner — baked mozzarella sticks with pasta sauce — even though I’m not really convinced I’ll be able to eat that.* My stomach has been “churning” and generally upset since I woke up this afternoon at 4 p.m, and after a round of medication I’m still not feeling any better … except for the fact that I feel completely empty and need some food, pronto pronto pronto.

I’m having another “dead mackerel” experience.

Yo, everybody. I’m having another “dead mackerel” experience, feeling chilled, clammy and altogether lousy with a low-low-low body temperature of 94°. This is extremely unpleasant, so I’ve been trying to find ways to distract myself for more than an hour. I started with a ridiculous Shirley Temple movie from 1934 called Stand Up and Cheer (blecch!) and eventually wound up dicking around with the Howdygram’s text color. I changed it from aqua blue to a different shade of aqua blue, as pictured below.

Tonight Sam had to yank out my catheter again.

Hi. I’m squinting at the clock (it’s about 12:45 Monday afternoon) and I just woke up. While I take my breakfast meds — a fistful of pills that includes Gabapentin, two Hydrocodones, Metoprolol and three Lasix tablets — with a strawberry meal replacement shake for elderly diabetics, I would like to include some prose, with a more serious turn, that I failed to add to my most recent Howdygram post due to being sidetracked by Errol Flynn movies at the last minute. (That’s one of the longest, and most awkward, sentences I’ve ever written.)

Happy birthday, Robin!

Sam and I are unwinding after a pleasant day of Errol Flynn movies. He’s asleep on the sofa (Sam, not Mr. Flynn), and I’m enjoying a couple of Otter Pops and a big tumbler of sugar-free lemonade. In case you give a crap, the aforementioned Errol Flynn marathon included Dodge City (1939), Santa Fe Trail (1940) and They Died with Their Boots On (1941), all with Olivia de Havilland. Personally, I think They Died with Their Boots On — a very fictionalized version of Custer’s last stand — is probably Flynn’s finest movie.

Sam is considering a new career specializing in catheter removal.

It’s been a whole week since my last stab at a Howdygram post. Seven days. And if you’re wondering why, it’s because I’m recovering from another “decline” … my third decline since August. Therefore I’d like to take a couple of minutes to discuss this with you, okay?

The current temperature is 38°, and little Texans just ain’t used to this.

It’s Halloween, 8:15 p.m., and there have been zero trick-or-treaters today. Nada. NONE WHATSOEVER. And not only hasn’t anyone been ringing our doorbell, there aren’t even any children outside! I think part of the problem could be the weather, though, because it’s awfully cold right now in the Dallas metro area. The current temperature is 38°, and little Texans just ain’t used to this. (Big Texans aren’t really too thrilled with it, either.)