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.

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 didn’t write a single word of Howdygram copy yesterday due to a severe case of the “drowsies.”

TUESDAY, 11/06/2018, 10:16 A.M. It’s Election Day, and Sam is on his way to Tom Thumb to buy his Election Day Pumpkin Pie. To tell you the truth, I’m not interested in following any dragged out Election Day results on TV, or even online, because I just spent the last two years of my life with a revolting GOP anvil in the pit of my stomach, and I simply can’t take any more of this. Therefore this evening I plan to take an extra Hydrocodone (or two) and sleep until the results are final. You know … until TOMORROW.

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?

Incidentally, Sam has been suffering, too ... every miserable step of the way.

Without consulting anybody whatsoever I decided to forego composing Howdygram posts on Tuesday and Wednesday for a couple of solid reasons: 1) I didn’t want to; and 2) I spent both days sleeping off the stress, anxiety and pain from Monday. And it wasn’t just a shitshow for me, because Sam suffered, too … every miserable step of the way. By the time we finished with the “bedpan hoo-hah” around midnight on Monday we were so shredded, emotionally, that Sam decided to sleep in the family room with me and not go to bed at all.

My new senior citizen forklift is here. Whoa.

THURSDAY, 10/11/2018, 3:10 P.M. It’s here! It’s here! My new Senior Citizen Forklift — also known as a Hoyer Lift — finally showed up Wednesday afternoon around 5:30 p.m. along with a friendly young man named David who definitely did NOT want to see me naked … and even said so. (I was mildly insulted.) He provided Sam with some cursory information and operating instructions, but as soon as he left we knew we’d need a different style sling than the one that came with the lift, because it requires me to roll around in bed to get it on … and I don’t roll very easily. To tell you the truth, I can’t roll at all. So Sam said he’d do some investigation online to find a more comfortable (and easier-to-use) sling contraption. And here it is!

The weirdest product on Wal-Mart.com’s virtual grocery shelves: B&M Canned Brown Bread.

WEDNESDAY, 8/29/2018, 12:07 P.M. I’m already not having a very good day and it’s only a few minutes past noon. I think my big issue right now is skin pain, especially a small area on my inner right thigh. My skin is unbearably sensitive, and right now I’ve got a pruny, agony-riddled expression on my face that’s probably nasty enough to scare away the neighbors, I’m gritting what’s left of my teeth, and I started moaning — rhythmically — about half an hour ago. Sam can’t hear me because he’s asleep, but if I wanted to wake him I’m pretty sure I could do it ... and he’d jump up to diagnose the problem and find out how he can help. God bless Sam ...

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!

Remember … the Alamo is nothing at which to sneeze.

Good morning, boys and girls! Well, okay, it’s not really morning … it just feels like morning because Sam woke me up a couple of minutes ago to say good night and remind me to take my bedtime meds, so I decided to stay awake for a little while and work on the Howdygram. Got it?

I have to wreck some truly excellent progress by confessing to a few stupid setbacks.

After spending eight productive hours last night sitting at my computer workstation, I have to wreck some truly excellent progress — finally making headway against my latest urinary tract infection; inventing a new recipe even though I’m practically bedridden; eliminating all the horrible, dry “alligator” skin from my feet and shins — by confessing to a few stupid setbacks. I’ll begin, therefore, by discussing the aforementioned setbacks in question. They are: 1) my skin is splitting; 2) my nose is dried out from wearing a cannula all the damn time; and 3) at the moment I can’t think of anything else. However, the “splitting skin” mentioned in item #1 is probably about an inch long on the left side of my body … located parallel to my waistline, below my rib cage and slightly around towards my back. (Got that? There’s a biology quiz on Wednesday.) To me, it feels like a giant paper cut, and when I asked Sam to take a look at it last night with a flashlight, he said it looked like a giant paper cut ... and he said it’s been bleeding, too.

I love ordering products for the first time from Wal-Mart, and today’s order was packed with first-timers.

It’s Saturday at 6:03 a.m., Sam is already on the way to Samuell Park for his morning hike, and I’m holding down the proverbial fort at Howdygram headquarters with a MacBook balanced on my stomach. Sam said he’d stop at Wal-Mart later on the way home … we need another bag of frozen Pillsbury Grands biscuits and a box of Stove Top Chicken Stuffing. Is this a great little life, or what?