It occurs to me that extension cords are a very important part of my life.

THURSDAY, 8/30/2018, 10:03 A.M. Happy, happy Thursday! It’s a few minutes past 10 a.m., Sam is enjoying his first nap of the day (he loves being retired!) and when he wakes up I’ll ask for some help moving to my computer workstation. The process requires: 1) a great deal of liquid Morphine approximately 15 minutes in advance; 2) help sitting up; 3) help standing; 4) repositioning my catheter bag; and 5) speedy readjustment of my catheter tube so I’m not actually sitting on the damn thing. (If I sit or sleep on top of my catheter cord I wind up with open wounds on my legs.)

Canned beef tastes exactly like mom’s pot roast, minus the dinner-table drama.

I can’t believe it’s already 4:50 p.m. on a muggy Tuesday afternoon here, and I’m just getting started on today’s Howdygram post! Sam is in the other room gabbing with the hospice chaplain — the one whose name isn’t Charlie — and I can’t decide if I’d rather: 1) type; 2) sleep; or 3) eat things. To tell you the truth, I think my answer would be: ALL OF THE ABOVE, KATIE!

I might be the only immobile coot in the U.S.A. with a jam-packed Saturday schedule.

Yo, everybody! I’m starting my day with the GREAT SATURDAY TRIFECTA: Pills, Popsicles and What’s for Breakfast! Having successfully completed the first two, I’m pleased to introduce today’s What’s for Breakfast menu at Howdygram headquarters … a nice big yellow bucket of CREAM OF WHEAT. You betcha! OH BOY! It’s the perfect Texas breakfast for housebound invalids on a blistering hot — 109° — summer day! And I’ve already figured out what I want for my second meal of the day … a Costco grilled Angus burger with ketchup and a mountain of chopped green olives, plus a bottle of Green River pop! (Please shoot me an email if you’d like to be invited, but I can’t promise you any Green River as there’s only one bottle left ... and it’s MINE.)

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.)

Remember when I told you I was bleeding to death? I wasn’t kidding. I was bleeding to death!

TUESDAY, 7/17/2018, 12:06 P.M. Happy Tuesday to you and yours! It’s a few minutes past noon, and I’m trying to choose between two really important activities: 1) eating lunch; and 2) pooping. To tell you the truth, though, I don’t really want to choose between them, I want to do BOTH ... but not at the same time! And only one of the aforementioned activities (#2, no pun intended) would require a dose of liquid Morphine first, because I can’t stand up and walk without it ... even if it’s just a few steps to our portable commode.

I definitely plan to get up on Monday or the muscles in my legs will atrophy.

You know your pain meds are excellent when you actually pass out while you’re live-blogging. And that’s exactly what happened to me last night! Seriously.

The Howdygram keeps me sane, focused, authentic and entertaining (I hope).

Whoa … where the hell did 2018 go? We’re already into the second half of the year — it’s the Fourth of July, for God’s sake — and before you can blink your pruny little eyelids I’ll be writing posts about wonderful ideas for Hanukkah presents and where to buy them. (Hint: How come you’re not shopping at The Howdygram Store?) In the meantime ... happy Fourth from Sam and me, and I sure wouldn’t mind a couple of grilled hot dogs if you’ve got any extras. Also cole slaw. (Actually, I’d rather just have the cole slaw. Nix the hot dogs.)

Ensure is a liquid meal replacement for senior citizens with shitty appetites. (Like me.)

Another hot, sticky summer day in Texas … at 9:45 in the morning it’s already 89° outside, and the temperature is expected to reach 103°. As I write this post I’m waiting for a hospice C.N.A. to show up for my first bathing and powdering hoo-hah of the week. She’s running late today and can’t get here until noon, but I don’t mind because there’s nothing else to do, anyway.)

As much as I enjoy “bath time,” Sam and I are putting my hospice through the wringer right now.

It’s Friday morning, 9:15 a.m., and it’s Sam’s birthday! To celebrate, he’s in the study making phone calls (we’re attempting to change electric providers) and I’m on the chaise lounge in the family room eating a couple of Popsicles and watching Funny Girl (1965) starring Barbra Streisand. I’m also waiting for my hospice C.N.A. to come over at 10 for my final professional bath of the week. She does a very good job — every Monday, Wednesday and Friday — and I look very clean and shiny afterwards except for the spots that she dusts with Nystatin powder. She also covers my shins and feet with AmLactin cream because otherwise I’ll look like an alligator.

I wonder if they’ll ever find a starving family in Dallas that wants half-gallon jars of hot Chicago-style giardiniera.

Shalom and howdy! I woke up exceptionally early today (before 7 a.m.) following a shitty, shitty night with a migraine and nausea that started around 1:30 in the morning. Sam sat up with me in the family room because somebody had to listen to me moan and hold the bowl, right? (I think he eventually just fell asleep on the sofa.)

If you dislike descriptive prose about bowel movements, please feel free to skip the following paragraph.

I’ve had quite a day so far, dear readers. It’s currently 2:25 p.m., Sam is conked out on the sofa and I’m watching the original Ghostbusters (1984) starring Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd and Sigourney Weaver. (It’s almost over. The Stay-Puft marshmallow man just blew up.) We’re enjoying a one-month free trial from Netflix. Yee-haw.

Incidentally, if you dislike descriptive prose about bowel movements please feel free to skip the following paragraph.

Vienna Sausages with a squirt of Grey Poupon mustard. This is an excellent lunch for me.

Top o’ the mornin’, everybody, and a happy Saturday to you and yours! It’s 4 a.m. and I’ve been wide awake for almost an hour already. Except all of a sudden I’m feeling frustrated and tongue-tied because I don’t know what the fuck to write about my black insulin bag, and I can’t believe it’s taking such a ridiculous number of words to explain this. Jesus.

Catheter Day was a fabulous success. Thank you for putting up with me.

We’ve got another blistering-hot summer day in Texas. My hospice C.N.A. was here a few minutes ago — it’s bathing and hygiene day at Howdygram headquarters — and she said the forecast calls for a high of 105° today. HOLY CRAP. That’s considered extremely hot for Texas … especially since it’s only June and we still have several months of summer weather ahead of us. And I’m even including September, which is usually just as hot as August!

I’m thankful to be a housebound old broad in an air-conditioned mansion.

It’s nearly 2 p.m. on a hot and steamy Saturday afternoon … nearly 94° with 50% humidity. You may or may not realize this, but Texas is a fucking SWAMP in the summer, especially when the temperature reaches triple digits … and we have a lot of triple-digit days here, sometimes for weeks on end, and the air gets so heavy you almost can’t breathe.

Believe it or not, I’m still waiting for my new rolling computer desk from Amazon.

Hi, boys and girls! I thought I’d compose a second Howdygram post tonight ... because why the fuck not? It’s almost 9:30 p.m., the end of a quiet and relaxing day that included a refreshing bath at 6 p.m. when my hospice C.N.A. stopped by AND another fabulous unforgettable feast from Le Hospice Gourmet!