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.

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.

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.)

Apparently the world doesn’t already have enough sticky shit.

Know why I love Wednesday? I GET MY DRUG REFILLS ON WEDNESDAY! Or, actually, every other Wednesday. When you get your medical care from a hospice you have to request your prescription refills every other week — insane, right? — and in my case, Happy Drug Day always falls on a Wednesday. This would include 15-day refills for Amitriptyline, Metoprolol, Trazodone, Gabapentin, Furosemide, Xanax*, Tolterodine* and Hydrocodone.

Hey, people … have you ever had a craving for creamed spinach?

I love weekends because Sam and I get TWO WHOLE DAYS without any invited (or uninvited) visitors or irritating interruptions. These would include: 1) hospice nurses or nurse’s aides; 2) a medical professional of any kind; 3) a pharmacy delivery that isn’t Hydrocodone; and 4) a UPS dude who rings the doorbell.

My new Senior Citizen Forklift is here. Part two.

MONDAY, 10/15/2018, 2:37 A.M. On Sunday afternoon Sam and I tried out my new Hoyer Lift. It had been here for several days already, but we were waiting for the new sling I ordered from Amazon. It came Sunday morning and involved a fucking ton of trial and error until we figured out how to use it without causing excruciating pain to the back of my miserable thighs, which are covered with a disgusting quarter-inch thick layer of dry crusty skin that peels off — and bleeds profusely — on contact. Sometimes I feel like a creature from a science fiction movie.

It’s been quite a weird day for taste buds around here.

Yo, boys and girls, and a happy Friday night to you and yours! It’s 9:35 p.m. as I write this post … and I’m feeling peppy, cheerful, silly, and fucking annoyed … because Sam just discovered that my hospice C.N.A. screwed up badly when she was here this afternoon for my Friday bathing and hygiene session. Apparently she forgot to shut the valve on my catheter bag after she emptied it … so my catheter had been pouring itself onto the carpeting for six fucking hours! Disturbing, sad, aggravating, sloppy. We’re not happy.