Every day (in the right sidebar) we’ll feature the same head in a different outrageous hat.

It’s the wee hours of Monday morning, 2:43 a.m., and all’s well at Howdygram headquarters. Sam is in the study eating a breakfast croissant and I just finished watching a truly excellent movie: Hyde Park on Hudson (2012) starring Bill Murray and Laura Linney in a sweet, historically accurate remembrance of one weekend in the life of President Franklin Roosevelt in 1939. Sam and I both loved this movie to pieces and decided to keep it stored on our DVR for the time being. (We firmly believe that all good movies deserve repeat viewings.)

I’m old, I’m bedridden, I’m susceptible and I’m catheterized.

FRIDAY, 2/8/2019, 9:27 P.M. It’s a rather pleasant Friday evening here at Howdygram headquarters. While Sam enjoys his usual after-dinner nap I’ve decided to write a quick post because there’s all kinds of important shit you need to know. Grab a chair!

“Bechamel Roman” is probably the most incredible font I’ve seen in a long, long time.

I think I owe you an explanation. While it was my intention to write a Howdygram post many days ago, I got sidetracked by feeling like total crap. Mostly I was having catheter issues again — resulting in serious leakage — and ongoing pain from the longest-running urinary tract infection (i.e., a UTI) in medical history. However tomorrow will be the “big day.” My hospice administrator promised results from the urine culture and sensitivity test that we sent to the lab on Monday, followed immediately thereafter by an emergency prescription for whichever antibiotic will cure the goddamn thing. Finally … it’s almost over. Stay tuned!

You need a really strong stomach to watch a sappy Gary Cooper movie.

Yo, everybody. It’s 7:15 p.m. on a cold Friday evening here in north Texas. According to the meteorology gods at Weather.com we’re expecting the low tonight to dip down to 32° … and that’s damn cold for us at this time of year because our temperatures are typically in the 60s through New Year’s Day.

Happy birthday to me!

First of all, before I forget, please allow me to illustrate the importance of November 1. You already know the song and the melody, so please join in!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ALL US BEDRIDDEN OLD COO-OOOTS,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME.

I’m so happy I could have a stroke … “Journey to the Center of the Earth” is on FXM this week!

Happy Monday morning from Howdygram headquarters! It’s 2:26 a.m., and I’m trying to amuse myself until Sam gets out of bed and moseys into the kitchen to turn on the coffeemaker. At that point it may also be bedpan time … an event that requires no additional explanation whatsoever. Deal with it, okay?

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.

At long last, my chaise lounge will be replaced tomorrow by an authentic, full-size hospital bed.

I suppose I always knew this would happen eventually. Tomorrow morning my beloved chaise lounge, the virtual nerve center of Howdygram headquarters and the chair on which I’ve slept day and night in the family room for the last six years, will be replaced by an AUTHENTIC, FULL-SIZE HOSPITAL BED.

Sam is shopping for a pedometer and I’ve been pondering an overly-generous squirt of liquid Morphine.

TUESDAY, 8/21/2018, 10:31 A.M. Yo, boys and girls, and happy Tuesday morning to you and yours from the fine folks at Howdygram headquarters! Sam just left for the mall, where he’s hoping to find the perfect pair of jeans for his trip to California in September. He lost a considerable number of pounds earlier this year, and shiny new pants are always the best way to celebrate a weight loss … right? Of course, I’m a certifiable Google genius, which means I’ll try to find Sam’s perfect jeans online before he actually parts with any money in a retail store. If the same brand, style, size and color are available for less dough anywhere on the Internet, I’ll track ‘em down!

I think I destroyed my vocal chords this morning after insufficiently swallowing my medications.

Ahh, it’s Sunday! We just scooted past 12 midnight — okay, I’m lying … it’s 12:56 a.m. — and I feel perky enough to write at least one fucking sentence before I fall asleep again. For the record, I spend most of my time either falling asleep or being asleep. I think it has to do with all the drugs I take, and which drugs I take: Norco, extended release Morphine and liquid Morphine. And at least twice a day I take all three at the same time, which fucks me up bigly, and I absolutely love it. Woo-hoo!

Sam and I are pulling an “all-nighter” tonight … and I can’t wait to tell you why.

TUESDAY, 8/7/2018, 11:39 A.M. Here’s wishing a happy, happy Tuesday to you and yours from Howdygram headquarters! Sam and I are relaxing here in the family room with Popsicles and The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (1974) starring Walter Matthau and Robert Shaw. It’s a lovely, lazy summer day here in Texas, and in case you’re wondering … RETIREMENT IS FUCKING FABULOUS.

My catheter tube disconnected tonight.

Hey, boys and girls, it’s me again … and what a day it’s been! For your possible interest I’ll list (and chronicle) the three visits I had today from various hospice medical personnel.

BATH-TIME WITH LETITIA. Letitia showed up at noon for a pleasant bath (mine, of course) and alpha-hydroxy cream therapy for my feet and legs. She’ll be back on Wednesday and Friday for more.

Today’s little gang includes useful scripts, pleasant display fonts and a cute collection of ice cream dingbats.

Happy Friday afternoon, boys and girls, and welcome to my second post of the day! I just finished up a late afternoon appointment with my hospice R.N., Stella, who stopped by to see if I’m making any progress with my urinary tract infection (answer: YES), are the antibiotics working (answer: YOU BETCHA) and when was the last time I pooped (answer: WHOA, NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS). She also checked my vital signs (blood pressure: 116/60), and then we confirmed a date for my next catheter change (August 23). Whew. On top of that, my hospice C.N.A. was here this morning for a bath (for me, obviously) and also for a therapeutic foot rub to remove some dead flaky skin. It’s definitely been hectic around here today.

Only six weeks until Marcy’s 2018 nursing home adventure. Holy crap!

TUESDAY, JULY 31, 2018, 10:19 A.M. While Sam and I wait for my hospice social worker to drop in today I thought I’d get started on my Howdygram post. I’ve only been awake for an hour so far, but from the peace and solace of my chaise lounge I’ve observed all of the following: 1) my right shoulder is fucking killing me; 2) I’m having some trouble breathing; 3) I wish the hospice pharmacy would deliver my antibiotics already because this urinary tract infection is DRIVING ME NUTS; and 4) Sam is watching The Princess Bride (1987) starring Robin Wright and Mandy Patinkin. (I’m not a big fan. I prefer movies from the 1930s.)

Today was Marcy’s Unforgettable Drug-Fest. I celebrated with fish fillets and tartar sauce. And half a bun.

Yup. The day after you practically bleed to death you spend the next 24 hours unconscious and scare the living shit out of your husband, but when you eventually wake up you’ve got a case of the “tremors” so severe that you dump a full glass of cranberry juice on your ivory carpet. You never saw a person recover from tremors so fast in your entire life. (Thank God we have a Bissell carpet shampooer in the closet.)

Introducing the world’s first Live Blog Opioid Festival.

Happy Saturday morning to you and yours! I have absolutely zero plans for today, and that’s a good thing because I’m virtually immobile and there’s nowhere I really want to go, anyway. Being home is fine with me. I’ve got Sam, plenty of Popsicles, all kinds of assorted canned goods in the pantry, a million reruns of “The Andy Griffith Show” on Netflix and lots of great movies stored on my DISH Network DVR. And after the hospice pharmacy delivers my liquid Morphine today, I’ll have everything in the world! Woo-hoo!

I ordered Campbell’s Brown Gravy with Legitimate Onions and two jars of Manischewitz Borscht with Diced Beets.

And so I show up on this hot, sticky Friday morning to discover that I’m not connected to the Internet ... with no incoming emails and no access to the Howdygram. Fortunately I can still compose today’s post with my MacBook’s Text Edit software, so all this free time won’t be a total loss. I can’t do much about the graphics, though, or those nice bright red subhead titles or the attractive horizontal rules that I always insert between sections. As soon as my connection comes back I’ll do a speedy copy-and-paste hoo-hah and get on with my life.

Welcome to the home of the Ear Wound, the Big Red Nose Bruise and the Screaming Baby Toe.

I am completely upside-down ever since I pulled that screwy all-nighter the day before yesterday. It’s not that I’m turning into a graveyard-shifter or anything, but I find myself conking out for hours on end and I’m never awake long enough to start — or finish — a Howdygram post. I apologize for that. I tried to write a post last night but never got past the lede paragraph. (And it was a good one, too. I might use it again sometime.) Incidentally, Sam is in the same predicament … so at least we’re doing this together!

Do you think you’d remember if you received the same birthday card from me two years in a row?

I’m not sure how to begin this post because I’ve never been this unconscious before. I first opened my eyes today at 9 a.m., put on my glasses, took my morning drugs and fell back asleep … and I remained comfortably asleep until 6:45 p.m. Eighteen consecutive hours of glorious sleep, and that’s NOT a typo, people! I woke up today at 6:45 p.m.