Throughout the day I’ve been limp, droopy, achy, sad and blecchy.

Not good. Not good. NOT GOOD.

I’m referring to my current health crisis … something unexpected that’s really knocked the wind out of my sails. Ahoy, matey.

It’s been a busy, productive and highly creative day.

WEDNESDAY, 11/14/2018, 8:19 P.M. I didn’t feel very well today. After my C.N.A. left this morning at 11 (she was here for my Wednesday bathing and hygiene session) I felt achy, thrashed around in bed for a couple of hours, adjusted and readjusted the angles of my head and knees … but I absolutely could NOT get comfortable no matter what I did. I transitioned between hot to clammy to chills, with sporadic gas pains. But when I finally decided to take my temperature — BLAMMO! — that’s when I figured out I had a low-grade fever. So I took two Hydrocodone tablets (each tablet contains 325mg of Tylenol) and eventually felt better by dinner-time. I’ve been eating Popsicles to cool myself off. Sam decided to sleep in the family room with me tonight in case I need him. Thank you, Sam … 

I think the Alamo is worth remembering only if you don’t have anything else to do.

My very own hospital bed: DAY TWO.

After sleeping, living and eating for six years on a chaise lounge, my back and shoulders are still adjusting to the extra support from a traditional mattress. I know I’ll get used to this, because I had a good night’s sleep last night, that’s for sure.

Severe abdominal pain, backed-up kidneys and the nurse from hell.

When it’s a few minutes past midnight, would you think that it’s late Monday night or early Tuesday morning? For the sake of clarity I’ll have to go with early Tuesday morning and continue to move on with my Howdygram post. Deal with it, okay?

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.)