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.

[moon_beam]

Hi, Meadowlark, thank you so very much for sharing with us how you're doing. It is said that our dreams are a reflection of what we are trying to process during our daily lives. I can understand how disturbing your dream of your beloved Gina is for you. You are still very much adjusting to the painful physical absence of your beloved Gina, and this is what is primarily represented in your dream. The GOOD NEWS of the dream is that you woke up with a memory of what you and your beloved Gina actually did together - - which is Gina's way of letting you know that she is close to you and remembers this special time you both shared together. This part of your dream is GOOD. The earlier part of the dream is your mind's way of processing the deep sorrow that is still in your heart.

Now please do not mistake me for someone who can "interpret" dreams. It's just that I too have experienced similar dreams, and there is a certain amount of "understanding" that takes place in the process. I hope what I have shared with you will bring comfort to you about your dream of your beloved Gina.

Meadowlark, it is not surprising that you are crying more at night than during the day. It is during the evening and night that we find ourselves the most emotionally vulnerable. During the day we are occupied with other things - - work, chores, etc., but as evening and night approaches we find our minds shifting focus. When we are coping with the physical loss of a loved one - - whatever the life form - - it is the evening and night hours that we find ourselves most emotionally vulnerable. It is good that you are allowing yourself to release your sorrow. I promise you that eventually your "heart [will] lightens someday, so that I can look at photos of her & think of her without so much pain." You are already seeing this process evolve "I don't cry as often as I did a few months ago, but I do still break down a lot." Please do not be frightened by this. It's a natural part of this grief adjustment journey. It takes time and patience. It doesn't happen within a prescribed period of time, unfortunately. There is no date on the calendar you can circle and say that this is the day when all the sorrow will be gone. This grief journey can only be traveled one day at a time - - sometimes one moment at a time. Hang in here, Meadowlark, and please know you are among friends here who are with you through every step of your journey.

"They say time heals everything, but that isn't necessarily true. You have to be active in your healing, but I'm not quite sure how to do that." It is an astute observation that all things are not healed in time. There are some events that happen in our lives that no matter how hard we try cannot be put right on this side of eternity. But we are still faced with the enormous and overwhelming task of proceeding with our lives in as healthy a way as we possibly can. To do this we have to focus on what we CAN do, and do it to the very best of our ability. This can only be done one day at a time, Meadowlark. Each day that has been lived to the best of our ability is a victory, and the more days we can add on to this victory enable us to find a purpose to continue on. There may be days when we will feel like a miserable failure while the following days will provide us the strength and courage to continue on. For you, and each of us who are enduring through the painful adjustment journey of the physical loss of our beloved companions - - your beloved Gina - - this is one of the many reasons why this wonderful forum was created. It is a safe place where we can come to share what is in our hearts and on our minds without fear of rejection, a safe place where we can find the strength, courage, support, and hope to continue on with the help of others who truly do know what we are feeling and are going through.

I hope as you read the words I have shared with you, Meadowlark, that you will find comfort in knowing that what you are feeling is normal, and that you are not alone in your journey. I thank you so very much for sharing with us how you're doing. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, Meadowlark, that I look forward to knowing how things are going for you.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam