What Is The Right Way To Die? Options

[Nickys mom]

The past three weeks have been the hardest of my life. My sweet boy Nicky, a 14-year old rat terrier, has stage 4 lymphoma (masses on spleen and small intestine). He has suffered so much already. My husband pushed for chemo, and his ultrasound today shows it has all been to no avail. It is Monday and he hasn't eaten since Thursday. He has been at the ER vet since Saturday. Today his chemo doc said we could do a blood transfusion and try another type of chemo that has a 50-50 shot of buying him more time, another 6 mos. at most. He didn't say a word about Nicky's comfort or what he was likely feeling. His only comment on euthanizing was that "no one would look down on it." I honestly feel like my boy is nothing more than a number to him. I knew it after the first round of chemo when I drove to pick him up and asked about side effects and he couldn't be bothered to say anything more than "check the brochure." He even kept refering to Nicky as a she throughout the discussion of his disappointing ultrasound today.

This is killing me. Instead of having the end I wanted for him--the one his primary vet offered of coming out to our house to put him down--I've now put him in this horrible hell where he is resting in his own excrement (from persistent diarhea) in a cage surrounded by the whimpers of recovering patients with a bunch of tubes in him and high likelihood of dying without me by his side. When I visited him tonight his upper lip was stuck in a sad little grin because they hadn't given him enough water to keep his mouth wet (he has IV support). I keep bringing him fresh blankets and beds at every visit and wiping his rear as much as I can to minimize the filth but they only have visiting hours between 12 and 2 and 6 and 8. I can't believe how awful his life is right now. I begged my husband to make this stop but he seems just as resolved to see if the transfusion gives him enough energy to make it home and be with us for a day or two. There is bleeding in his GI tract that won't stop without the next round of chemo so I think he is fooling himself that our boy will ever make it through our front door. And what then--get better just to have more chemo? The transfusion is likely to take 2-3 days to show any improvement (if it will) which means more suffering regardless. This is no life. He is my dog--I had him before we were married and have taken him and paid for all visits, etc. through the years so I know I have power over his care. Yet I just can't bring myself to go behind husband's back and do this and I can't seem to get him to get on board with the reality that is happening. This afternoon the chemo doc told us transfusion or end it and that he would give us "a few moments" to decide. A precious few moments! I gave in and said transfusion. I'm so angry that I can't dig in and find the voice for my sweet boy who has none right now. I don't want to have to do this--my husband said how could I live with myself--but I don't know how I can live with myself already knowing what his past few days have been and little outlook for nothing but others just like them for the few days ahead with a 50-50 shot at some relief only to eventually face more.

The irony is that I'm the big animal lover and my husband is usually Mr. straightlaced lawyer. I never thought I'd be the one that wouldn't have the luxury of being the emotional one pleaing to take extraordinary measures. I'm a vegetarian, for crying out loud. I've volunteered for years at shelters. I actually met NIcky dog walking--the sweet way he would walk up every walkway to someone's front door and give a look back at me like "Is this where we're going?" absolutely stole my heart. I actually feel so guilty when I think of the shelter. I can't believe how much all of the money spent could have done for so many there. I feel sick and selfish when I think how much has been--and is being--spent. All from my savings, too, because I want to be sure my power over care isnt taken. I'll be working this back for years. But it just so different when you're looking at your own and feel like you have to do whatever you can. I've never said no.

I adopted Nicky at 10. He needed a lot of costly dental work and had been at the shelter for quite some time. Over the past few years, he's made it through a knee surgery, rupture of a disc in his neck, dog mauling from a stupid off-leash neighbor--I just can't seem to face that he's made it so far and there isn't any more fight to fight now.

I absolutely ache without him here. I slept with a heating pad near my leg last night and pretended it was him. I can't stand that there is nothing but miserable options no matter which way I turn.

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[smokey/lady/max]

Hi Nickys Mom
I hope Nicky is doing better. Just want you to know I am thinking of you and your little boy. I am praying for him and pray to our angels here to watch over and comfort you and your husband and sweet Nicky. We all here understand and feel your pain that you are going through.
Please know we are here for you.

Hugs
xoxo
Anna and My Angels

[Nickys mom]

Hi Nickys Mom
I hope Nicky is doing better. Just want you to know I am thinking of you and your little boy. I am praying for him and pray to our angels here to watch over and comfort you and your husband and sweet Nicky. We all here understand and feel your pain that you are going through.
Please know we are here for you.

Hugs
xoxo
Anna and My Angels

Anna
Thank you so much for your prayers and the good thoughts. I just know on some level Nicky must feel all the support that those in his life--and even those he hasn't met--have been having for him. That he is still with us this morning and has battled so hard to make it back home is nothing short of a miracle.