Grief

OK my friends probably are probably expecting this post. There’s no-one here today except Abby (sleeping), me and the contents of my head.

So I’m going to let this all out, and get it out of my system so it hopefully stops going round and round in my head and dominating all of my thoughts and paralysing me. There’s no need for comments, there’s no need to even read this post.  I’m only making this public, so that those who care about me know I’ve gone through the process …

Why?
Why didn’t I notice on Friday that it was more than just the arthritis acting up?
Why did I have to leave the house Saturday morning? I’ve been cooped up here for months on end, why did I have to choose day to be out until it was too late?
Why did I have to live rural where the vets shut midday on Saturday? Where a “genuine emergency” only applies to a stud bull or a working dog!
Why didn’t I decide to drive her the hour or so into an emergency clinic in Canberra on Sunday? Why did I wait for the vet I trusted on Monday? Why did I put Trubs through that extra day of pain?
Was the vet right that “nothing could be done” or could she really have been helped if could have gotten her to a vet sooner? I think she would have been in less pain if I had her to a vets sooner – but she may have spent the weekend at a vets instead of at home and still be euthanized on Monday if not on Friday.

I should have noticed earlier – I should have stayed home Saturday – I put her through so much needless pain.

Mum reminds me that we dosed her up on Metcam most of the time, that she purred that last couple of night in bed with me. That she would have preferred her last days at home, not spent the weekend in a vet clinic.

I still feel like I let Trubs down in her last days – at a time she needed me most.

I think this is just a stage of grief and I think most people go through this. If I could, I would go back and change things. I would take her to the vets on Friday, or hell even Wednesday before we knew about the tongue ulcers.  but I can’t go back. I have to live with what has happened and the decisions I did make whether they were right, wrong or just plain stupid.

So I think it being a bleak cold day here, I might curl up under blanket on the lounge, watch some crap TV and do some Warcraft archaeology for the day.

I can’t stitch – there’s no furry lap warmer shedding all over my fabric …

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6 Responses to Grief

  1. The vet is right – there is nothing else that could have been done. Even if you had gotten her on to them sooner, the majority of the vests would have stuck her on a drip to see if they could have saved her. All they would have done is prolonged the agony. She was not in pain. She knew what was happening. I went though the same thing when Harry went with all of the same recriminations that you now have. He also went with kidney failure so I’ve followed Trubs story even more closely, unable to say anything, and seeing the photo you posted of her in the garden, I knew there was no way back and that any trip to the vets was one way. Take it from me, your Mum is right, you did what was right for Trubs right to the very end. I know that whatever I say in this comment will not ease the pain at the moment but in time, you will see that you did the right thing.

    • Mel says:

      And a three hour phone call from Debbie reminds me that I should use the phone more often. That friends like her and Rosanne and Julie and Karen and Sharon and all the rest have been through this too and understand. Some like Rosanne more than others.

      Every day I am reminded how wonderful my friends are – thank you one and all!

  2. alison says:

    I feel your anguish, having experienced similar situations with a number of beloved cats over the years. we can’t change what has been, we make the best decisions we can at the time, & accept those decisions as, the best at the time. above all, be kind to ourself

  3. kay jones says:

    I agree with Alison. She wasn’t in pain and if she could speak she would have told you that the very place she wanted to be was where you were. Stop flogging yourself. Have a good cry and then just think of all the good times you had.

  4. Nancy Jones says:

    Mel, I’m crying now, reading your post and as I write this. I do so understand how you feel. There is guilt with the searing grief. Bear’s last days still haunt me, and I’m so hard on myself. You’re doing the same thing, and it’s quite normal, though very hard to let go. I still miss my Baby Bear, and though I’ve thought of trying to find a cat like him, I know that’s impossible. You can read here: http://nancyinil.multiply.com/photos/album/34/My_Tribute_to_Bear
    about my “would have, could have, should haves.” I have yet to forgive myself.

    • Mel says:

      Nancy, I have just read about your Bear. Many many many hugs. You have to learn somehow to forgive yourself. Your Bear knew you did your best for him the same way that Trubs knew that I loved her.
      I will never find another Trubs the same way that parents will never find another child the same. All of our furry friends have their own personalities and I wouldn’t wish to warp any of them into being anthing they aren’t.
      (anyone who says that that their animals don’t have distinct personalities simply haven’t been around them long enough – that statement says more about the person than the furry ones!)
      I will cherish Trubs in my heart til I die – hell she found a way to share my birthday every year – the diva! But I will love Abby and any other future cats and dogs that enter my life too. But part of moving on and making room in my heart for these new animals is learning to live with the “woulda shoulda couldas” that we all go through as *part* of the grieving process. At some point we have to forgive ourselves or that poison doesn’t allow us to fully love the next animal that captures our heart. And that’s not fair on the next animal. In my case, that’s Abby. So I’m trying …. I hope this helps you too.

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