Can't Breathe, My little soulmate has had to be let go. Options

[Tatem'sMama]

3 days ago, or was it 4….. I granted my furry soul mate the end to the suffering I could see and feel she needed. Tatem was my 13-year-old cat who had struggled through out her life with health and behavioral issues. I am convinced the universe gave her to me because I understood her issues and in fact mirrored many of them. Over the past weeks leading us to Christmas we were struggling though another round of severe and chronic sinusitis (the only humor to be found in the situation was that I was recovering from my 6th sinus surgery in 4 years because I have chronic sinusitis). My poor baby had snot pouring out her little nose and just before Christmas she quit eating completely. Not being able to smell a thing there was no tempting her with ham, or tuna, or even the salsa she so loved.

The vet on call said to have her put down but because I needed time and didn’t care for him I waited until our vet came back from the holidays. When my husband and I took Tatem in our vet though my baby would recover fine if we had a feeding tube put into the side of her neck. It sounded like a simple enough procedure so we signed off and agreed to come back in a few hours to pick her up. As we drove away I had what could best be described as a panic attack. It was wrong, all wrong to do the feeding tube. I knew it was. But husband reminded me the vet thought she would be fine and how wonderful it would be if she did make a full recovery. I tried to relax and ignored my intuition.

When we returned to pick her up she was hunched up funny in her box making it was hard to get a good look at her. As sweet as my baby was with me at home she had a whole Dr Jekall/Mr Hyde routine she pulled at the vets. She was the center of my heart but wow, she truly became demon spawn she was so scared at the vets. In any case there was no way to get a good look at her while we were still in “that place”.

Once home I got her settled I noticed she looked a little funny but thought she was just hunched up because she was upset. Then we attempted her first feeding though the tube. It was a disaster. Food was shooting out all over the place…. Disgusting and scary. I knew something must be wrong but I decided to let her settle a little more.
The next time I saw her she looked like a pillow with legs.

In a panic I called our vet only to discover they don’t have anyone on call after hours so we had to go to the local (and very expensive) VCA Vet hospital. One look at her and she was rushed into the back for x-rays. An hour (or 50 years) later they came in to show us x-rays that showed several inches of air under her skin, in her stomach, and chest cavity. Even now thinking about those images makes it hard to breathe for me. My baby was suffering so.

After checking the feeding tube they decided that was not the source of the air and they came to tell us they though her trachea had been ripped when she had been intubated for the surgery. They told us they wanted to keep her hospitalized for several days to see if it healed and if not they wanted to perform an exploratory surgery to find the rip and close it. It would have cost thousands.

And then I looked into her eyes as she lay trembling on that horrible stainless steel table. Those eyes that had shown me so much love were pleading with me to end her suffering. As my heart broke I signed the paperwork to have her put to sleep. She purred a little between gasps for air as we said goodbye. I know it was the right choice, but I couldn’t help but feel guilty for putting her though all the extra pain with the feeding tube debacle. She deserved so much better than that.

And I can’t help but think it would have been easier to not have had the hope that she would make it only to have it end so badly.

To compound matters further when I spoke to our vet the following day she told me she never intubated Tatem. What ever the source of the air was could not have been the tear the emergency vey was so sure of. Now they are investigating what caused this bizarre reaction and I can’t help but wonder if they caught the cause to begin with if she could have been saved. And I wonder if we will ever know what caused it.

Now my husband and I are rattling around in a little house that feels unbearably empty. No one to greet me as I come down the stairs in the morning. No one to talk to me as I make my first cup of coffee. No one rushing into the kitchen every time we use a can opener. No one to ask if they want any 9 Lives just to hear their uncontainable excitement and cries of “Now! Now!” No one to greet me at the door when I come home.

I see her in every shadow. My eyes automatically look in all her nap spots. My head knows she is gone. My heart feels like it is being ripped open all over again with each and every realization that she is gone. Yesterday I cleaned the house and packed up the last of her toys that were found in strange places. Every time I found another toy batted under a bookshelf or dropped in a boot I cried like it was the end of the world.

I think of her and it hurts so muchI can’t breathe . I’ve experienced loss in my life but never of someone so incredibly precious to me. How do you keep walking when all you want to do is crawl away from the pain? And how do you answer “why did so have to go now?” I wasn’t ready. I need her. And not only do I not know how to deal with her loss, I feel I am lost.

[Tatem'sMama]

Thank you everyone. It does help to be able to have a place to release those overwheleming feeling of grief when they swamp you, just as it helps to be reminded it will pass. When you feel so sad its like the light goes off on all other parts of your life and you are left in a tiny circle that you can't see beyond. Even when you hurt so much is it good to know there are people who get it, will listen, will understand and let you get through it the best way you can at your own pace. And when the lights go out, you all remind me that they will come on again. So Thank you.