How To Go On... Options

[Meadowlark]

My beloved Gina left us two days ago on Sunday, November 27th, 2011.
There is no words to accurately describe what my husband & I are going through at this time. I feel like my life is empty.

She was 12 years old, and was plagued with medical problems since the day we adopted her from a shelter I worked at in July 2007.
We thought she had a seizure last weekend (she was epileptic), but a few days later she was having trouble getting a deep breath.
It turned out that what she had had was a heart attack, and had developed severe heart disease. We were absolutely shocked.
She had fluid in her lungs. The only treatment for that would have been the extreme opposite of the treatment that she was undergoing for her severe kidney disease.
We had been giving her sub-q fluids every day for a long time now, but in the end it was speeding up the process of her failing heart.
And we had no idea. Her vet had heard a small murmur months ago, but every time we went back (which was sadly very often), she never heard it again.

In the end, there was nothing we could do. Her kidneys were already considered to be in total failure for a long time. Her levels were over triple the normal levels.

She had developed a few behavioral changes in the last few months of her life. Chewing on our arms & crying, like she was trying to tell us something. No vet or animal
behaviorist could explain that other than dementia. It was still so painful to see her so sad & confused at times. She never hurt us though. She just seemed so desperate at times. It broke our hearts.

I feel guilty because I wanted her to pass away in the comfort of our home & I didn't give that to her. She died in an animal hospital. A cold animal hospital with smells of rubbing alcohol & fear, surrounded by sterile metal objects. No warmth. The only thing we could give her in her last moment was our presence & love, and a fleece blanket she loved.

I keep seeing her fade away after they injected the sedative & then the poison. I feel like I failed her somehow, having her put to sleep.
That day we had planned on taking her home & having her euthanized the next day, so that we could have one more night together.
But when they brought her into the room to see us, it seemed she was already partially checked out. She always gave us kisses, she would actually lick our cheeks like a dog might. And she managed on that day to give my husband and I each a kiss on the cheek. And a part of me thought if she could do that we should bring her home.
But deep in my heart, I feel that it was her way of saying that it was okay, that she was tired but still loved us enough to gather the strength to give us one last kiss. But sometimes I feel like we should have had one more night. I'm so confused...

I don't know who I am not having her in my life. Everything reminds me of her.

The windows still have nose smudges from her that I can't bear to wipe away.

She always preferred drinking from a human glass, so we always had one on our living room coffee table.

We always kept a chair in front of our bed so she would have an easier time getting up & down.

Her window perch, where she most loved to sleep, is still up. It's unbearable to think about taking it down, but it's also unbearable to look at.
It still has her fur on it.

I'm still finding fur on the floor & my clothing, and pieces of litter throughout our apartment.

I feel lost without caring for her, giving her meals, and medicines & fluids.

I'm still doing things out of habit like making sure the bedroom door is open enough for her to get in & out of.

When I open the blinds I always make sure the cord is tucked away so that she couldn't hurt herself with it.

Not seeing her food bowls in the entryway, or her litterbox. There is no too much space without all of her stuff.

Everything reminds me of her absence.

I can't stop picturing her last moment. I keep counting the hours, days she's been gone.

My husband and I keep thinking that we see her in the corner of our eyes, but then realize it's only something else. And our hearts break all the more.

She's never coming back & I don't know how handle this. She was my best friend & soul mate.

I wish that I believed in an afterlife so that I know that she would be there waiting for me when I died,
and that she would be free of her problems...no more kidney or heart disease, no more epilepsy, no more anemia, she would no longer be deaf. She would have all of the yummy food that she wanted, as opposed to her strict k/d diet. She wouldn't have to be poked with needles every day. She would just be joyful. And that's what she was here. She was pure joy & unconditional love.

[Meadowlark]

Corinnajane & Moonbeam,

Thank you both so much for your replies. Yes, Corinnajane she was indeed beautiful, intelligent and affectionate. You could really read her from her photos. I wish the whole world could have known her. I know most people would say this about their companions, but she touched everyone she came in contact with. Especially at animal hospitals (where she spent a lot of her life).

My husband is making sure I am looked after. I am incredibly thankful for him. He is still grieving as well, but he (as most men) grieves differently than I do.

I'm sorry to hear about your cat's passing. A sudden death is in a way, a bit harder to deal with, because you have shock value on top of your grief. I really thought that my girl would go from her renal failure a bit more slowly, but all of the sudden she had troubles getting a deep breath, & when we took her to the vet she stayed there the night & we had to take her to another vet the next day, and she had to stay overnight there so she could see a cardiologist in the morning. We got the call late the next morning saying that there was nothing they could do for her. Her heart was failing & the treatment for it (including diuretics) would completely destroy the little remaining function in her kidneys, and the fluids we gave to her everyday for her almost completely failed kidneys were destroying her heart. There was no treating her. We were shocked. She had never had a heart problem....and then suddenly she had one and it was killing her & there was nothing we could do for her.

We never thought we would lose her like that & so fast. So it's still a shock to me. I know that I'm still having trouble accepting it...

Moonbeam, thank you for reminding me that my feelings are normal. Sometimes I feel so alone in my pain & this forum & then people like you remind me that it is okay to feel this way, however painful & uncomfortable it is & that I am not alone in this journey.

It is my goal to be able to smile when I think of her as opposed to this heartbreaking sadness that I feel missing her so much & wanting to desperately see her again.

My husband took me out today, we went to a part of the city we've never been before. It's strange. Most cats never go outside (unless it's to the vet or something like that), but even outside in a foreign setting where I didn't form any memories with her, I still had her on my mind the entire time. There is no place where I can find peace in this chaos of heartbreak.

I just wish I could get past all of these “what ifs” and “should and shouldn't haves.” We couldn't get in to see her normal vet, so we had to go to a new one locally & then were referred to another 'new' one & I wondered if we had made it to her regular vet would the outcome have been the same, or would she have found some loophole to help her survive or at least live for a few months more? Did we euthanize her too soon? Or if she hid her pain well, too late? Why couldn't we have buried her as opposed to cremation? I hate the idea of fire. I hate living in a city where we can't bury her in our nonexistent backyard. I hate myself for having to chose the hour & day that she died. What if the vets were wrong? Why didn't we bring her home as we had planned to have her euthanize din the comfort of her home? We thought she looked too ill. We didn't want to put her through the commute to come home since she didn't travel well and were afraid she would have trouble breathing again outside of oxygen. But were we selfish for doing that? Did her last look at us REALLY say 'it's okay, I need to go now” or was it “please get me out of this hospital mom & dad, I really don't like it here.” Was her last kiss on our cheeks (as she always had done) a goodbye kiss, or a joyous happy to see us wanting to go home kind of kiss. Oh where is her body now? Has she already been in that horrible fire? Or is she stuffed in a bag, cold & stiff....are her eyes still open? God I wish I had closed her eyes after she died. I don't feel like “died” is the right word. She was killed. Even though her diseases were killing her. That's not what killed her in the end. It was a lethal injection. I can't find the right word to describe what happened to her.... Died, passed away, left us, let go...? I find no right words in what happened to her. I am so mad that they took her IV catheter out to bring her in the room to see us to give us the choice to euthanize there or bring her home for a day, and when we decided to do it there because she seemed like she had partially 'checked out' already, she had to have another catheter placed just after they took the old one out so that they could put her to sleep. The previous day she had at least two catheters placed because they collapsed a vein. God that poor little girl went through so much stress & pain from needles in the end. I feel so angry and guilty for not bringing her home for a day.... These thoughts won't stop haunting me...

Sorry, I just needed to vent a little. I feel so lost right now. Tomorrow will be a week & I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. All I know is that I miss that beautiful little girl so much, and would do anything to have her back.

Thank you for keeping us in your thoughts & prayers. We desperately need it.
I'm so glad that this forum & people like you all exist.
~*Meadowlark (Carey Ann)

How I miss your beautiful face & kind spirit. You were one of the truest friends I could have ever asked for...

[Hermy's Mommy]

Dear Meadowlark,

I would like to offer my condolences as well. I am so very sorry for your loss. I can tell from your posts and photos of Gina that she was a most beautiful and wonderful companion.

As moon_beam, Bobbie, Cheryl, and the others have said, what you are feeling and thinking at this time is normal, albeit excruciatingly painful. Like you, I feel an emptiness in my life now that my dear bunny Hermione has left me. I cried and cried (and still cry everyday), and day-to-day functioning is difficult. Thank goodness for the wonderfully supportive people on this forum. I'm glad your husband is looking after you too.

I just wanted to address the feelings of guilt and the thoughts of "if only" and "should have." I completely understand. I've been plagued by guilt as well. Although I know it is a normal part of our grieving, I still find it very hard to stop myself from thinking repeatedly about all the things I should have done. "If only I had taken her to the vet sooner." "If only she had seen a different vet." "If only I had spent more time with her." Soon, I started feeling guilty about everything. All I can say is that each day it will get a little bit better. Some days you might feel like you're going backwards, but I think it's all part of this grief journey we're on.

You, your husband, and Gina are in my thoughts and prayers.

Wishing you a restful night,
Hermy's Mommy