I hate death. No. Really. I do. I have not been on speaking terms with death since my Mom passed away when I was just 16, and she was in her early 50’s.
My kitty with Kidney Disease had a very, very rough day yesterday. She started vomiting in the morning and anything she consumed, even water, got tossed up. I couldn’t be strong for one more moment and started crying in the afternoon wondering what to do. Vets aren’t open around here on weekends; would we have to take her 65-miles away to an emergency vet?
I needed time to figure out what to do, Richard was out working and I needed direction. For me, it came in the instructions from a naturopath Veterinarian whose book is often referred to when dealing with cat or dog issues. It was one of the first books I purchased an updated copy of as soon as I could after selling the house. It’s “Doctor Pitcairn’s New Complete Guide to Natural Health for Dogs and Cats”.
This is another area where Brain Injury kicks my ass (sorry for being blunt or crude.) But I HATE that I struggle to come up with not only a solution but try to look back at precursors that may have caused her to get sick in the first place. It’s in these moments of desperation that the voice of doubt rears its ugly head and says maybe I’m not fit to own animals in the first place…
Then there’s the anger. Angry at my Brain Injury, angry at God asking him why in the hell do people and animals have to die anyway?
I digress. Back to the book. It talks about giving chicken broth and I thought, “Great! I can boil some frozen chicken and she can drink the broth.” Nope. We are out of frozen chicken so, looked at the container of organic chicken broth. I’ve always been hesitant because it’s not 100% chicken broth, it’s close at 98%, but am deeply concerned when it comes to moments like these where I need to help her and not be a hindrance.
I warmed up the broth as the book suggests, and added water (my own idea), and she drank it. Next came the waiting game of seeing if she could keep that down. Success! Then we tried pieces of turkey breast we get from Costco, and waited, waited, and waited. Success!
She did climb into bed again last night as she’s done most every day of her life, she settled down on my sweatshirt at the edge of the bed and quickly fell asleep. She must have been absolutely exhausted. I did not sleep much last night, waking at every sound. I’m suddenly brought out of the fog of Brain Injury to notice every detail, taking note of when she eats and uses the litter box. This is how I used to be without Brain Injury…
I am in a quandary and most likely will take her to the vet 65 miles away when I can get her in. Here’s the hesitance: she gets great care, she does well with the acupuncture, but they take her blood every 4 months and it’s of great difficulty each time. I can’t stand or sit there while they fish around after shaving her neck. Richard can’t stand it either, so it’s not just me. I’m hoping I can ask them if they can sedate her this time…LOL…and maybe ME TOO! 🙂
I really hate TBI too, for moments like this when I feel like the wind is knocked out of me and I have to do my absolute utmost for her. She’s been the sweetest of kitty friends. But I hate TBI because time passes and I have no concept of it. It’s heartbreaking that 10 of the 14 years I’ve had Tux I have had a Brain Injury. It feels like I’ve had no time with her at all. I felt the exact same way when my dog got sick and later had to be put down in 2009.
I can look at the notes on my paper where I wrote Tux’s birth year, the math I’ve done showing me it’s been 14 years, but it doesn’t feel like that long. I don’t know if any time with animals is ever quite long enough.
With all this I completely forgot about setting the clocks forward. Completely! I had it marked on the calendar but that was overridden in my brain. I’m glad Richard had the wherewithal to start off by resetting the clock on the toaster oven. I was really out of it…it usually takes me a while to adjust to the time change anyway.
I’ve wanted to stuff all these emotions away where they can be stowed for later…but later is now. I have to ventilate or I will be unable to make wise decisions when the time comes. Sometimes I really wish I wasn’t such a mush ball with a wobbly heart when it comes to issues with pets. Egads, even writing this is making me cry, guess there’s still more heart to be ventilated. I have to be as prepared as I possibly can…and do the right thing.
I loved Tux even before we met! At that time Richard and I were together, he came home and said someone he knows has a really sweet little black and white kitten with a little white on her chest. I said I’d take her and I’ll call her Tux! She is pretty much the embodiment of sweet kittiness.
For now, she is eating and keeping things down. She has a buffet of food to choose from, this is exactly what I did for my dog with Cancer. I know in my heart of hearts it doesn’t matter if I hate death, or am angry about my TBI and time.
What I learned from walking my dog through Cancer is as long as life holds her here, I will fight with everything I’ve got to keep her alive and well, but when her time comes to go, I will help her go.
But that still doesn’t mean I’ll be on speaking terms with death anytime soon!