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.

“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.

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!

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.)

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!

I can still name everybody in my fourth grade class (almost), even Herbie Rotfeld.

SATURDAY, 11/16/2019, 8:13 P.M. I’m wishing y’all a pleasant Saturday evening from Howdygram headquarters. Sam is in the kitchen fritterin’ around with my dinner — baked mozzarella sticks with pasta sauce — even though I’m not really convinced I’ll be able to eat that.* My stomach has been “churning” and generally upset since I woke up this afternoon at 4 p.m, and after a round of medication I’m still not feeling any better … except for the fact that I feel completely empty and need some food, pronto pronto pronto.

Introducing The Applesauce Diaries.

SUNDAY, 2:59 A.M., 10/13/2019. Good morning, y’all. I’m trying to wind down after the night from hell. Indigestion again! My stomach started churning last night around 7:30 but none of the usual remedies worked for me. These included all of the following …

My new air mattress is atrocious.

It’s 2:30 Thursday morning and I’m NOT a happy little camper. I’ll begin with a Shit-O-Meter misery readout and follow with a list of all the varied and sundry reasons why I’m feeling like crap today.

I want to stay awake all night and create some great shit!

I must be feeling mighty prolific to start a new Howdygram post so soon after the War and Peace edition I published a few short hours ago. Holy crap, right?

I get to see my visiting podiatrist on Friday. Toenails ahoy!

Yo, everybody. The Howdygram’s staff meteorologist (me) would like to report that it’s another cold, dark day here in Texas! The temperature outside is only 32° at 3 p.m., and that means I need a nice bowl of hot soup with my special spoon* and a second blanket. Where the fuck is SPRING already?!

Two excellent frozen pizzas for senior citizens, up close and personal.

SUNDAY, 2/10/2019, 3:45 A.M. Holy shit … I’m freezing! It’s the wee hours of Sunday morning, I’m buried beneath two knit afghans (a tan one and a red one) and I’m still shivering! I suspect that my urinary tract infection is playing havoc with me right now. I’ve got all the usual symptoms and probably a low-grade fever, too … which is why I’ve been frozen solid since Sam went to bed at midnight. Even worse, the weather is atrocious, too. Today’s high will be 41° with constant rain starting around 10 a.m. and lasting until mid-day on Monday. Rain, rain, rain! (Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!) And my arthritis sucks right now, too. Cold wet weather is just miserable for coots like me with shitty knees. GOD BLESS HYDROCODONE!

I’m in my hospital bed with a wireless Mac keyboard on my stomach.

It’s a balmy, lazy winter’s night in Texas. At 10 p.m. the temperature outside is still hovering at 74°, and Sam and I are in our favorite positions here in the family room … he’s asleep on the sofa, and me? I’m in my hospital bed with a wireless Mac keyboard on my stomach! The air-conditioning has been running since early this morning when I got so overheated I wanted to crawl out of my skin.

Happy birthday to me. Yee-haw.

Hi-de-ho, everybody. Here’s a Howdygram news bulletin for you.

I’m 66 years old today.

Today’s Shit-O-Meter pain report reflects an improvement over Saturday, Sunday and Monday.

I’ll begin this post with a simple statement: FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! This is due to intense pain in my left heel — a combination of diabetic neuropathy, plantar fasciitis and another bleeding blister on the bottom — plus arthritis in both knees. I’m a complete mess right now, a fact that’s being underscored by a urinary tract infection with uncontrollable peeing and a low-grade fever. I’ve had the infection for more than a week already. Even though I have an appointment to see my primary on September 6, I don’t think I can wait that long for relief so Sam said he’d talk to her office for me today and be my advocate. My dilemma? I need an antibiotic prescription but there’s no way I can see the doctor sooner than September 6 because I have to reserve transportation on the Mesquite senior citizen transit bus TWO WEEKS IN ADVANCE!

Anybody know how to make flaming Baked Alaska?

Yo, people! This is the first time since Saturday that I’ve been steady enough to sit at my desk in the study for a couple of hours and type my freakin’ brains out. I’ve been dealing with all of the following health issues: 1) diabetic NEUROPATHY PAIN in my left foot that included my baby toe, arch and heel, plus electric shocks from the top of my foot that radiated into my ankle and shin; 2) a huge BLEEDING BLISTER on the heel of that same foot; 3) severe JOINT PAIN in my knees and elbows; 4) inexplicable major PISHING ACCIDENTS even though I’ve got two bathrooms and two portable commodes for convenient urination; and 5) MIGRAINE HEADACHES due to waking up out of a sound sleep four times in six hours with an exploding bladder. Oy!

Chives! Sour cream! Bacon bits! Butter!

My sleep pattern is a fucking MESS. It’s almost 5 p.m. and I’m EXHAUSTED, but that’s because I only had slightly more than four hours of sleep yesterday and woke up at noon. I know I shouldn’t whine about this due to being retired and I can grab more sleep any time I want, but Sam and I are on completely different schedules right now like ships passing in the night. I also have some significant PAIN ISSUES to complain about today. Specifically, my tailbone aches, I’ve got burning skin on the inside of my left thigh and I’m having insane electric shock spasms in my toes and heels due to diabetic neuropathy. Also in my thighs. This is extremely horrible. And then I hear the news that serial felon O. J. Simpson convinced a parole board to release him from prison — FOR FUCK’S SAKE … WHY!? — and Senator John McCain has brain cancer.

I haven’t worn a brassiere since 2012, but this is basically a secret so please don’t tell anybody.

It’s been a dismal, dark and thunderstormy day ever since we woke up this morning. As a matter of fact, by 6 a.m. Sam was already seated comfortably in the garage with a full pot of coffee and the overhead door open so he could watch a line of storms roll in from the northwest. Now that Sam’s retired it’s particularly rewarding when the neighbors start leaving for work because we don’t have to. We don’t even have to get dressed! As for me, I haven’t worn a brassiere since 2012, but this is basically a secret so please don’t tell anybody.

Our tree has bugs on it.

Yo, everybody. It’s 2:25 a.m., and I just woke up from a juicy extended nap and entertainment break in the family room that included an episode of “People’s Court,” Broadway Melody of 1940 starring Fred Astaire and Eleanor Powell, and the first 45 minutes of The Eddy Duchin Story (1956) starring Tyrone Power and Kim Novak, because at that point I had to get up and pish already.

Sam, David and Aunt Adie demonstrate the world-famous “Sam wave.”

I am fucking miserable right now. FUCKING MISERABLE. Frankly, this might be the worst day I’ve ever had for pain in the history of America. And here’s my official and completely scientific Shit-O-Meter readout to prove it.

All of a sudden there are intermittent problems with my computer. Also I just ran out of diet root beer.

Happy belated first night of Hanukkah and merry Christmas Eve. Don’t label me a grinch, but I’ve had more than enough of the endless holiday sales, once-a-year discounts and promotional emails, particularly from the eager marketing lunatics at Allegro Medical. I guess they figure nothing says “Merry Christmas” like a box of catheters!