It’s hard to say goodbye.

If you’re reading this post, I have some news for you … it’s my last, and I’ve instructed my precious Sam how to publish this for me as soon as I’ve passed on.

While I’ve had a number of life-challenging illesses for many years, none could actually end my life if I was diligent about taking appropriate medications, such as diabetes, arthritis, congestive heart failure, gout, diabetic neuropathy, chronic kidney disease, and so on. However, there’s one illness that we haven’t been able to slow, reverse or control — a bacterial infection — because I’m completely resistant to all known antibiotics. In recent weeks I’ve been struggling with a cellulitis infection throughout the right side of my body (from my foot up to my hip) that’s painful, red and warm to the touch … in addition to the incurable urinary tract infection I’ve been battling for three years. The high, spiking fever (from 95° to 102°) associated with bacterial infections always renders me unconscious, especially when the spike happens in less than an hour or two.

I’ve asked Sam not to call the hospice’s 24-hour crisis nursing team next time this happens, and I don’t want any more medications dribbled into my mouth with an eyedropper. I just want to pass away in my sleep. So if you’re reading this, that’s exactly what’s happened.

My life was way too short, but it was filled to the brim with love. Thank you, Sam, for the happy, joyous life we’ve had together, right up until the end.

I also want to mention a few wonderful, special people … my sister Robin, her beautiful daughters Melissa and Allison, and my cousins Bobby, Karen and Ron, and my best friend Sandi for the last 56 years. All of you know how much I’ve always loved you.

We’ll meet again. I promise.

Free fonts with a stunning display of background textures and clip art.

Once again I’m waking up after two long, long naps. The first was 18 hours, from 5:30 a.m. until 7:45 p.m. last night, and another four hours from 11 p.m. until 3 a.m. this morning, just a few minutes ago. Life is upside-down. I sleep all day, I’m up all night, but fortunately Sam is usually on the same schedule with me.

Unlimited help for one stinking buckaroo and “live chat” at 4:30 in the morning.

Glory hallelujah, hot damn and what the fuck! I just had a nightmarish issue with the Howdygram and thought I’d lost the old girl forever. About an hour ago I tried to begin composing a new post — this one, to be specific — but got an error window instead (see below) when I clicked the “new post” link. And then I got myself snaggled up with a screwy help website — JustAnswer.com — that I assumed was a free Google forum for Blogspot bloggers like yours truly. Boy, was I wrong!

I’m not especially interested in who the hell my nurse is. No kidding.

Hey. It’s me again. I’ve been housebound and bedridden for about five years already, so I have to admit that I don’t have too much to write about if I try to produce a Howdygram post more often than once or twice a week. Sad, isn’t it? I’ve given up on reading the news — local, national, global — so political commentary is pretty much dead in the water. My life has shriveled to an endless string of 18-hour naps, urinary tract spasms and weird meals. I’ll just have to make do with writing whatever I want, whenever I want … and let it go at that. You’ll get used to it, I promise.

I’ve discovered a new digital arts shop on Etsy.com.

Hello and happy Sunday from Howdygram headquarters. I’ve been trying to write this post for more than a week but got myself caught up in a cycle of extremely long and unexpected naps … and by the time I finally realized what was happening it was 10:45 Saturday night. At that point I was more interested in food and a pleasant conversation with Sam. What a clusterfuck … especially since I didn’t have a chance to recognize my father’s 100th birthday in heaven! He was born on July 13, 1920, and was buried just two days after his 82nd birthday. I think about my father every day of my life and regret that Sam never had a chance to know him.

I’m especially hysterical about Hand-Pulled Rotisserie Chicken White Meat.

So here’s what’s happening here today: ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. It’s 3:25 a.m. on Wednesday morning I tried to write this post at dinnertime on Tuesday but couldn’t stay awake long enough to write the first sentence. After an 11-hour nap I finally woke up about 15 minutes ago, said “hello” to Sam, and decided to start writing immediately so I could actually make some progress with this post. Jesus.

Tremors, squeezy feet and 18-hour naps. That’s the story of my life.

’Tis the Day of the Onion Rings here at Howdygram headquarters. This morning at 2 a.m. when I asked Sam to make me a bag of Nathan's Famous Thick Sliced Battered Onion Rings he delivered the devastating news that we didn’t have any more in the freezer … whereupon I immediately ordered four bags from Amazon Fresh along with a small order of incredible delicacies that included: (1) Sargento’s Pepper Jack Cheese; (2) Annie Chun’s White Sticky Rice; (3) one pound of Reser’s Cole Slaw; (4) one pound of Reser’s Macaroni Salad; (5) frozen Citrus Pop-Ups* in three thrilling flavors; (6) Sweet Baby Ray’s Sweet & Spicy Barbecue Sauce; (7) a half-pound of Italian Spicy Mixed Olive Bruschetta; (8) Farm Rich Mozzarella Sticks; and (9) six La Brea Bakery Take-and-Bake French Dinner Rolls.

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Why can’t it be onion rings?

I haven’t decided yet if this will be a long or a short Howdygram post because there’s a lot of very important crapola going on here today and tomorrow.

Dear World: I hate Greg Abbott and love Amazon Fresh!

The state of Texas is out of its fucking mind. Our maniacal pro-Trump governor, grifter-in-chief Greg Abbott, decided all by himself — against warnings and directives by the CDC and the Board of Health — to “reopen” the state so that everybody can go back to their favorite hair and nail salons, bars, restaurants and shopping malls even though Texas has the worst COVID-19 infection rate in the United States with more new cases daily than ANYWHERE … including Mars. After Abbott’s proclamation, the entire under-30 age group did exactly what he wanted them to do, and barely two weeks later they all wound up infected with Coronavirus. Totally predictable and expected, and now all those poor twits are sick, miserable, unemployed and hospitalized with no insurance coverage! To make things even worse, now their parents are sick, their children are sick, their grandparents are sick, their friends are sick and their neighbors are sick.

Introducing Marcy’s Easy-Peasy Opioids and Olives Diet!

The life of a bedridden coot is an interesting one. Mostly, I guess, I’m faced with an endless stretch of days and weeks, ridiculous 18-hour spans of sleep, forgotten meals and missed medications … I almost can’t keep up sometimes. At the moment it’s 8:45 Wednesday morning. I’d like to take my morning meds, but Sam hasn’t brought them to me yet (he’s asleep), so I thought I’d kill a little time with the Howdygram. Hello, everybody.

Sam has acquired the manly art of whackin’ down shit with a chainsaw!

Happy Wednesday morning, ladies and gentlemen. I’m enjoying one of my favorite movies — Act One (1963) starring George Hamilton and Jason Robards — while Sam and I wait for a visit from my hospice’s Director of Nursing. Martha said she’d be here between 11 and 12 with a plan to discuss two different subjects: 1) can we please tell her which medications I don’t take any more* so she can update her records; and 2) she wants to figure out if there’s a way to make me more comfortable in bed because right now I’m not (comfortable, that is) and it’s entirely likely that I’m not breathing properly or digesting my food very well, either.

Remember in my last post when I told you I was losing interest in fonts? I lied.

It’s been a whole week since my last Howdygram post, but I’ve got a solid reason that: I’VE BEEN ASLEEP. Yes, for the whole goddamn week!

I’d hate to lose control of my nipples. I’m so fond of them!

I’ve got lots of stuff to tell you this afternoon, okay? It’s a few measly minutes after 3 p.m. and I just woke up from a long, long, long, long sleep. I just I asked Sam “how long” and his only reply was “L.O.N.G.” I’m guessing maybe 18 hours. My cannula is driving me crazy,  the air jets hurt like hell, I can’t really remember the last time I saw daylight, and now we’re due for heavy rain for the next several days and it’s already dark as a dungeon outside. Blecch. I thought it was Monday but just realized I was wrong … it’s Tuesday! I have no recollection of Saturday or Sunday, either.

The Whine List expands.

Good morning and a happy Thursday to one and all. It’s 4:30 a.m. and Sam is getting ready for his first walk of the day. He usually starts at the forest in south Mesquite — called Samuell Farm, believe it or not! — and communes with the moon and stars. He gets home just as the sun comes up. Typically he’d stop at Wal-Mart first to pick up a few necessities, but the store changed its hours after the COVID-19 hoo-hah kicked in so he waits a little later now to make his grocery run. (My appetite has been low this week. I ran out of applesauce.)

Know what? The quarantine has been great for business!

I’m having a conundrum this morning. It’s a few minutes before 7 a.m. and my hands are freezing. They should be tucked underneath my blanket … except I also feel like typing, so this definitely sucks. I suppose I’ll just keep plugging away until I figure out what I want more … warm hands or a Howdygram post! (Right now the Howdygram post is winning.)

I’m not in a very good mood right now and don’t need shit from anybody.

This has been the day from hell. And it’s not over yet.

I decided to revamp the Howdygram’s subheads today.

Hello. It’s early Wednesday evening and I just woke up from a 14-hour (that’s not a typo!) nap. FOURTEEN HOURS. The last thing I remember is Sam giving me a bath at 3 a.m., and I felt so good that I passed out afterwards. Trust me, it wasn’t my intention to do that, because I had a lot of “plans” today! These included: 1) eating; 2) uploading at least 200 new designs for iPhone cases in The Howdygram Store; 3) contacting Wal-Mart via live chat to complain that a jar of pitted Greek olives broke in transit; 4) Repeat #1; and 5) Repeat #4. Got that?

Please note that no actual stir-frying ever occurs at Howdygram headquarters.

Yo, everybody. It’s Sunday afternoon, and I hope this finds you healthy, safe and pleasantly quarantined wherever the hell you may be. Sam and I, of course, have barricaded ourselves here at beautiful Howdygram headquarters, a charming subdivision that’s neatly nestled between genuine cattle ranches — and genuine cattle! — here in the Dallas metro area.

Keep an eye out for the zebras and cows.

Happy Thursday night from Howdygram headquarters. Once again Sam and I have been sleeping for a ridiculous number of hours — eight, 10, 12 or more! — at a stretch, barely staying awake long enough to eat a meal. (I spend a lot of quality time with iced tea and pitted Greek olives.)

“Gimbal Egyptian” is a slab serif super-font. Woo-hoo!

I just woke up from a 16-hour nap — seriously, 16 hours! — and thought it might be fun to engage in a little self-expression. You know, write something. It’s 3:15 on a strangely cold Saturday morning (only 46°, believe it or not) for Texas in mid-April, and I just finished an A+ perfect turkey sandwich on white toast with tomatoes. Sam makes the best sandwiches! And the most wonderful side dish was a pair of fabulous movies … Dark Victory (1939) starring Bette Davis and George Brent, and Mad About Men (1954), a sweet little comedy about a mermaid starring Glynis Johns and Margaret Rutherford.

The Howdygram Store is selling cloth face masks now!

MONDAY, APRIL 13, 2020. I have zero motivation tonight. ZERO. Sam and I just finished watching a ridiculous horror movie called The Wasp Woman (1959) starring Susan Cabot, and next up is the biopic They Died with Their Boots On (1941) starring Errol Flynn as General George Armstrong Custer. I don’t know if the Custer biography is accurate or not, but it’s definitely top-notch entertainment with some unforgettable performances.

Former Cubs second baseman Glenn Beckert died on Sunday.

It’s 6 a.m. Sunday morning. I just woke up but have no idea whatsoever when exactly I fell asleep. It’s pretty much the same story day after day after day … huge, inexplicable spans of very sound sleep* wrapped in my big fleece blanket, soaked and overflowing wee-wee pads, frequently shivering, aching legs that I’m scared to move without Sam’s help, lots of pills to take, the incessant sound of rushing air (through my cannula) that destroys my nostrils and the ability to hear things!

Sam is a 24/7 caregiver, nurse, chef, vaudeville comic (don’t ask) and launderer.

Yo, people. Welcome to Thursday night at Howdygram headquarters, where Sam is napping on the sofa nearby and I’m wrapped up in a fleece blanket on my hospital bed with a big glass of sugar-free peach soda and a bowl of pitted Greek olives.

Amazon has face masks and latex gloves.

Happy Tuesday morning, y’all. Sam is hiking around in his favorite forest on the south side of Mesquite and I’m drinking sugar-free punch and noshing on pitted Greek olives. Damn, I love these things!

I think I might get back to sending birthday cards this year!

It’s a couple of minutes after 4 a.m. on Sunday morning, and I have no idea what the hell ever happened to Saturday. I think I slept for 22 out of 24 hours, never saw one stinking minute of daylight, and now I’m lying here in the dark, binge-watching “Bar Rescue” reruns, eating cashew butter — this stuff is so AWESOME! — from the jar with a plastic spoon and peeing like a race horse … actually eliminating far more liquid than I consume.*

I have no idea why I ordered six packages of fine egg noodles.

Hey. Good morning! It’s a few minutes past 8 a.m., Sam is in the study watching videos on YouTube, and I just finished one of my all-time favorite breakfasts … canned Hormel Beef Tamales with a side order of pitted Greek Kalamata olives in a teeny bowl. I suppose I should write my official product review now in case there are other senior citizens wondering what they should eat today.

China City had the gall to shut down on day one of the Coronavirus pandemic.

It’s a fresh, new day here at Howdygram headquarters. Today is Saturday, just a few minutes past “high noon,” Sam is asleep on the sofa, the weather outside is dark and depressing — no sunshine? what the fuck! — and I’m enjoying raspberry green tea and ordering tasty shit from Amazon. Because that’s what I do when I’m bored.

Prince Charles has the Coronavirus and he’s been sequestered at Balmoral Castle.

Believe it or not, Dallas County’s COVID-19 “social distancing” and “shelter-in-place” directives really aren’t big hoo-hahs for yours truly because I’ve been housebound and bedridden for more than two years. While the rest of the planet tries to figure it all out, I’m in bed scanning the headlines and shaking my head. This morning, however, one news story stood out above the others …

I’m having horrible diabetic neuropathy issues in my feet today.

Hello, guys. It’s the wee hours of Monday morning — 12:40 a.m., in case you’re interested — and I’m still trying to figure out what happened to Saturday and Sunday. Sam tells me that I slept through nearly all of it, with the exception of a 15-minute visit from my new hospice case manager (an R.N. named Nancy) around noon on Saturday. I don’t remember much about Nancy except she had good hair.

I’m pretty sure we’ll never experience a Greek olive shortage in Texas.

There’s still hope for America, boys and girls. Sam just got home from Wal-Mart and they had all the essentials we’ve been trying to find for the last few days … toilet paper, paper towels and paper napkins! He didn’t over-buy anything, either, so there’s enough left on the shelves for other shoppers. He also brought home a jar of Greek olives, but I’m pretty sure we’ll never experience a Greek olive shortage in Texas. (But you never know.)

Oh my God, people … I’m so sick of Coronavirus news I want to SCREAM.

Oy, you’ll never believe what I just did. Never. Therefore I’ll begin tonight’s Howdygram post with one of my favorite topics!

Sam is the undisputed king of organization around here.

Happy Thursday night, boys and girls, and welcome to the Howdygram … your lighthearted alternative to COVID-19 and empty shelves at the local Wal-Mart.

There’s more to this story than pain.

I wanted to write a post several days ago but haven’t been awake long enough to string any meaningful sentences together. I do have lots to say, though, so I’ll try to take a stab at this. Get comfortable and pour yourself a glass of iced tea.

If you feel like remembering the Alamo, just get it done and move on.

I’m having a debate with myself right now. Do I want Chinese food for dinner or a cheeeburger and fries from McDonald’s? I’ve been craving both of them for the last few days, believe it or not. As soon as Sam wakes up from his late afternoon nap — which started out as an early afternoon nap — I’ll let him know what I want for dinner. In the meantime I’ll just lie here in bed diddling with the Howdygram and trying to pretend that I’m not having a hard time breathing today. (Arrgh! You guessed it … this is horrible.) When he wakes up I’ll ask Sam to increase the volume on my oxygen concentrator. It’s currently set at “level 6” and can go as high as “10.” (After that I’d need a stronger concentrator.)

The Howdygram Store is already stuffed with 675 iPhone cases. I just designed another 175.

This is definitely a new one for me. I’d written the first half of a Howdygram post, nodded off for a couple of hours, and when I woke up I realized I must have had my hand on the keyboard because the screen was filled with commas, one afer another, on and on and on … so many that I couldn’t scroll far enough to reach the end of them. Blogger has a nifty auto-save feature, though, so I decided to quit my browser (Safari) and relaunch it, figuring the post should’ve been intact from before my comma key had a cerebral hemorrhage.

I’ve got all 16 “Andy Hardy” movies stored on our DVR.

Yo. It’s me again. It’s the middle of the night — not quite 4 a.m. — and I don’t feel much like sleeping right now. That’s not exactly weird, to tell you the truth, because for most of my life I’ve always enjoyed productive explosions of creative energy while the rest of the world sleeps. In the past I produced newsletters, designed websites, ran my own chocolate company, authored a cookbook, started a memoir … and so on. These days, though, I use my nocturnal bursts of creativity to write the Howdygram and design attractive whatnots for The Howdygram Store, proving that life can be fine if you try hard enough … even for an occasionally-miserable, bedridden old coot like yours truly.

Real chicken that you refresh in hot water for three minutes. No kidding.

Hello, dear and faithful readers. I wanted to write a Howdygram post on Saturday but couldn’t make it happen, no-how. I was sick and miserable almost all damn day with crazy ailments I can barely recall, although I do remember just enough to post the following Shit-O-Meter readout.

I’ve got a couple of major bacterial infections running rampant in my body.

Yo, everybody. I’m taking a much-needed break from creating my latest collection of custom iPhone cases … 84 exciting brand new designs that I’ve been uploading to The Howdygram Store’s marketplace on Zazzle.com since 5 a.m. yesterday. I think my brain is ready to explode, although it actually feels good to be productive again after several weeks of inactivity. And once again I’ve also been under the weather.

Today’s free fonts are guaranteed kosher for Passover.

I don’t know whether or not I’ll be able to compose a Howdygram post tonight, because I’ve got a bad case of “tremors” in both hands, wrists and arms (also my right leg and both eyelids, but my leg and lids are immaterial). The thing is, whenever I try to pause typing my fingers continue to jerk around until I physically move my hands far away from the keyboard. It feels like my body’s been possessed by an alien!

Cherry pie and Greek olives … the perfect bedtime snack!

Yo, everybody.

A McDonald’s cheeseburger was the first solid food I’d eaten in eight days. (Oy.)

Hi-de-ho, dear readers, and welcome to the Howdygram.

I’m not feeling well at all right now. Not at all.

Hey. It’s 9 p.m. Saturday night, I just woke up from a nine-hour nap, and I have to tell you what’s been going on around here. Howdygram headquarters has been a regular “hotbed” of activity!

I keep myself entertained with composition and high-speed typing.

Happy Saturday afternoon from Howdygram headquarters. Sam is taking a nap, so this is a great opportunity to work on my favorite hobby — the Howdygram! — and keep myself entertained with composition and high-speed typing. Welcome!

Fevers can be fatal for diabetic senior citizens.

I’m not posting very often any more. This time it’s been a combination of physical ills and emotional drain. I guess I’m just not too happy, and this is affecting damn near everything.

Sam thinks the key to my knee pain is the inclement weather we’re expecting.

Yo, everybody. Obviously it’s been a while since my last Howdygram post — almost six days! — and that’s because I’ve been so fucking MISERABLE. For instance, I’m struggling with: 1) such intense joint pain that I can barely move my arms, legs, knees, feet or ankles; 2) urinary tract spasms every time I pee, even without a catheter; 3) tremors in my hands, wrists and fingers and mouth that make it difficult to type or even talk; and 4) sleeping for eight to 14 hours at a time, multiple times every day. Believe it or not, I haven’t seen daylight for almost a whole week, because I’m typically awake all night and finally conk out before sun-up every morning. Last week I even slept through more than one C.N.A. visit (I get a bath every day) and my Friday appointment with a hospice R.N. named Rachel!

There’s no end to the entertainment possibilities around here.

In case you haven’t noticed, I made a few changes to the Howdygram’s banner! They are: 1) the logo is smaller; 2) the black outline is heavier; and 3) I’m using a different font for the tagline (“Made in Texas,” etc.) and a slightly larger point size.

Please keep an eye out for 2,000 pounds of contaminated ground beef.

This has been a very confusing day … completely upside-down. Here are the issues I’ve been dealing with, in case you give a crap.

I really want to leave behind something of myself that’s profound and memorable.

To those of you who don’t know me very well, I’ve been writing for a long, long time. I started in grammar school with short stories and my own series of comic strips with crappy illustrations. (I was never very good at illustrations.) Later I moved on to poetry, longer stories, an autobiography titled Memoir of an Escaped Dental Patient (1999) and a cookbook called The Anorexic Gourmet (2002). I’ve also published countless screwy newsletters — anybody remember Popular Manure? — and the Howdygram made its debut when Sam and I moved to Texas in 2007.

If you want to remember the Alamo, please feel free to do so … as often as possible.

Hey, boys and girls … it’s a few minutes before 5 a.m. on Friday morning, Sam is in bed, and I thought it might be fun to launch a fresh Howdygram post at this screwy hour because I just ran out of ideas for greeting cards and there really isn’t anything else to do. I’d also like to throw in some free fonts.

I’ve got a long list of physical complaints and life-threatening hoo-hahs.

Hello. It’s a quiet January afternoon, I just finished a bath and hygiene session with my hospice C.N.A., and I’m feeling fresh and peaceful even though most of the time my life is fraught with health-related chaos.

Achy, Poopy, Droopy, Drippy, Crappy, Pishy and Blecch. Meet the new Seven Dwarfs!

I’m unwell. That’s a perfect word to describe the overall condition of my health! It’s early Saturday afternoon, and I’ve been unwell all day today. After a 14-hour nap: 1) I’m freezing cold and shivering; 2) my muscles and joints are killing me; 3) my arms are so stiff I can barely move them; 4) I can’t stop peeing; 5) I ache; 6) I’ve got a recurring case of indigestion and zero appetite; 7) my hair, head and neck are soaking wet from the aftermath of an apparently substantial fever; and 8) I can’t think of anything else, and I don’t want to. (My head hurts.)

Please remember Harry and Meghan in your thoughts and prayers.

Holy mother of crap … ANOTHER LOST DAY. It seems that I fell asleep this morning, shortly after a very early breakfast, and woke up at 8:45 p.m., barely an hour ago … feeling limp, lethargic and LOUSY.

“Klatu birata nikto, dude!”

MONDAY, 1/6/2020, 9:42 P.M. Hello, hello, hello. (Hello!) It’s 9:42 p.m. on Monday night, Sam is napping on the sofa, and we’ve been watching a favorite science fiction classic The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) starring Patricia Neal, Michael Rennie and Gort.

Everybody knows it’s against the law to eat Greek olives without bread.

Mind if I whine for a few minutes? During the last couple of weeks I’ve had far too many diabetic hypoglycemic (low blood sugar) episodes. I know my symptoms well: 1) I get sweaty and clammy; 2) I’m hot; 3) my skin feels like I’m burning up with fever; 4) I feel dizzy and lightheaded; 5) my blood pressure gets very high; 6) I think I’m going to faint; 7) I have the “shakes”; and 8) I crave sugar. (Symptoms #2, #3 and #5 are new to the list.)

I think Wal-Mart and Costco were ransacked over the holidays.

So. It’s late Thursday night, Sam is napping, and I’m lying here like a slug trying to decide what I want to eat whenever Sam wakes up because I’m really, really hungry. (Correction: I’m really, really STARVING.) Tonight my bedtime snack possibilities include: 1) a can of baked beans; 2) Jif peanut butter and a plastic spoon; 3) two sugar-free almond cookies with milk; and 4) Great Value chicken noodle soup with a bag of Miracle Rice. This afternoon I received a six-pack of Miracle Rice — a zero-carb, 10-calorie rice replacement — that I ordered from Amazon a couple of days ago. I love this shit!