A Hole In My Heart

So in my most recent updates, I haven't talked about what happened on June 8th.

I'll rewind a little.

It's the last week of school and I am already a little stressed because I'm scheduled to go out and see my dad that weekend. I hadn't seen him since he right after he was in the ICU, and I was nervous about having to come to terms with the new way life was going to be for a while. I noticed Monday that my cat, Spazzie, looked a little fatter around the midsection than normal. Made a little mental note to keep an eye on it and went on with the week. By Wednesday she had gotten bigger and it was apparent that she had quite a bit of fluid in her abdomen.

One x-ray and some bloodwork later and it was determined that she had a mass near, possibly in her liver. They couldn't tell without doing more extensive tests, none of which were going to give me anything that was treatable at her age... which was almost 20. They also couldn't tell me how long it would be. She was still eating, drinking and pottying at that point, which were all good signs, but liver cancer is notorious for being very quick to take down animals so I wasn't feeling very confident.

I was supposed to leave in 2 days to see my dad (was planned to be gone for over a week) and now I was thrown into the position of trying to decide to put my baby to sleep before I left so I could say goodbye on my own terms, or playing with chance and hoping she made it until I got back.

Not liking either of those options, I tried calling the airlines to see if I could change my flight, give me more time to make this horrible decision instead of feeling rushed into it. For $600 I could change my departure date. That was more than I paid for the entire roundtrip ticket. Next plan. Buy a one way ticket leaving later in the week, so I could stay here and have more than 48 hrs to decide what to do. Airline again is no help. If I miss my original departing flight, they cancel my whole reservation so I won't have the return flight back. Last plan. Leave on the original date and buy a one way ticket back early. I wasn't thrilled with this plan because by Friday, she wasn't moving as fast or nearly as interested in food as she normally was, but my stepmom had been giving me a hard time about not being there to help and I didn't feel like I could just cancel because my cat might die in the next few days.

I went ahead and took her to my mom's on Saturday, and left for California. I decided that Wednesday (June 8th) was when I needed to come back. It wasn't too long out there that I felt like I was pushing my luck, but long enough where I felt like my stepmom wouldn't give me a hard time.

I was miserable the whole time. Aside from the fact that my dad has gone from the smartest man I know to what I can only describe to you as someone with Alzheimer's was already hard to come to terms with, but it was torture being away, knowing deep in my soul I was going to have to prepare myself to say goodbye to my baby, either on her own time, or mine.

By Monday she wasn't really moving around a lot and barely eating, so I had my mom take her to the vet so they could take care of her until I got back. My flight back Wednesday was set to get in right around rush hour, and the vet was a good 90 minutes from the airport, not to mention my car was still at my mom's house.

I barely made it to the vet in time to pick her up. They brought her in and she looked so pitiful. Her fur was all dry, her tummy all swollen and she didn't have that sparkle in her eyes. The vet (who wasn't the normal guy, he's off on Wednesday's which of course is what day this was) updated me on what they had done for her, the medicines they put her on and the choices I had for making her comfortable while I decided what I wanted to do.

I left the vet in tears, just wanting to get home and sit with her. Hoping she just looked as pitiful as she did because she wasn't at home. When I walked in the door and set down the carrier, she took enough steps to get out then laid down right on the floor. I just sat down next to her and sobbed. She was telling me what I needed to do. I cried and I cried, the way I never have before. I literally could not breathe. I had her for 18 of her almost 20 years of life and I wasn't ready. I still wanted more time... but I knew. I knew keeping her alive would only be for me. That she was ready, that she held on for me to be there with her, the way she had been there for me so many other times in my life.

I couldn't bear having to wait until the next morning to do this. The thought of having her there another night, knowing what I had to do in the morning was just too much. I called my mom and (somehow) managed to stop crying long enough to explain what the vet said and that I couldn't wait until tomorrow. There was an after hours vet that I had taken her to before, that is the 2nd location of the place where I took her regularly. I called them and asked if they had the resources to do this after hours and how late they'd be open. My mom asked if I wanted her there. Normally, emotional situations I tend to fight on my own... but I knew this was too big, even for me.

Next I called my sister and updated her as well. I told her if she wanted to say her goodbyes, she needed to get to my place soon. Calls out of the way, I remained on the floor next to Spazzie just staring at her. I curled up next to her on the floor and just listened to her breathe. Listened to her purr. Like I would always do when I was stressed out because the sound made me feel so much better. I don't know what made me think of it, but I grabbed my phone and held it up to her, recording her purrs so I would have them forever. Time seemed to slow to a near stop as I just laid there with her, thinking of all the things that we had experienced together. She kept looking at me, as to say, I'm thinking of it too. Those last 30 minutes we shared alone I will never forget.

My mom and sister arrived not much later, and before long I found myself in the front seat of my mom's car, clutching Spazzie like a small child might. It seemed like everything from there on out was an auto-pilot response. We arrived at the other location, and the vet wanted to look her over to make sure that putting her to sleep was warranted. It didn't take long for her to see what was there, and she explained what would happen and asked if I wanted to stay in the room with her.

I wasn't about to walk out and leave her there alone. I positioned myself to have one hand on her head and my eyes looking directly to hers. I watched her sweet, sweet soul leave her body and the life go from her eyes. The doc stepped out to give me (and my mom) some time alone with her. I laid my head next to hers on the table, hugging her and crying into her fur, thanking her for being there for me, teaching me how to love and for loving me for who I was.

I never knew my heart could break the way it did at that very moment... and feel so broken and empty after.

June 8th. The day that will never be just another day for me.

I miss her so much. There will always be a hole in my heart where her presence once filled.

11/16/91 - 6/8/11

So Long Self

My peace is gone.

Why has God teased me? Why did he let me feel something I have been trying to achieve for so long, just to take it away from me so quickly?

It feels like a dream. Like those few short weeks when I felt better than I have in years were just a figment of my imagination. In my mind I picture the evil one hiding behind the scenes, laughing that I ever held the hope that I was getting better. Laughing even louder now that it's gone and I am back to fearing every choice, feeling and thought. Laughing at my tears and my pain.

And I don't even have the strength to care. Why work so hard if it can all be taken away just like that?

Saying Goodbye

My grandma died this morning.

I watched her take her last breath. I know she is being welcomed in heaven by my cousin and grandpa. I am so glad she is no longer in pain.

I'm on my way to A's office right now. Don't worry, I brought tissues.

Talking and Crying

It has been a very challenging week. My session today with A reflected that as I spent just about the whole hour crying.

Monday I had my appointment with the new psychiatrist. It went much better than I could have ever expected. She was very personable and easy to talk to. I didn't have any anxiety answering her questions or offering extra information I thought she should know. That is night and day to my last experience with a psychiatrist. She is lowering the dosage of my current anti-anxiety/depression medication and added a mood stabilizer to help keep me from crashing as often. I'll go back to see her in a few weeks to make sure that things are going well with current doses before I head back to work. Tuesday was the day of my procedure, and while it was much easier than the surgery in April, it still took its toll on my body. I felt like the walking dead most of Tuesday and Wednesday. Having found out about my grandma late Tuesday, I tossed and turned most of the night, not getting much sleep even though I was exhausted. Same goes for last night. I couldn't turn my brain off. I kept thinking about how in just 3 weeks we've gone from hopeful to about 6 months to live. That 6 months from now will be right around Christmas. That more than likely my holidays won't include her anymore. That my mom is going to be so devastated by her death. That the realization of that makes me feel so helpless. That I want to spend time with my grandma before I go back to work in a few weeks, but I'm afraid to. That I want to hug her and tell her how scared I am and that I don't want her to die, but knowing that would only burden her more. That today my baby cousin would have turned 15, but will forever stay 13 in the eternity of heaven.

A just let me talk and cry today. Somehow I don't think that will be the last time that will happen.

Happy birthday, little butterfly.

Missing Them

This has been a very hard week already, and it's only Tuesday. Saturday will be one year since my grandpa died. I miss him so much. It is also almost 6 months since T's death. I just received some new pictures so I could take one to work. Too much grief this week.

Guilty

I found out today that my inner child is carrying around a tremendous amount of guilt. Guilt about her little sister's abuse. Reading through my account of the abuse in session today triggered a memory of a conversation I had with my little sister 12 years ago where she blamed me for being the reason she was available to him, and triggered a reaction so intense that I spent the latter half of my session in hysterics, hyperventilating and shaking so bad I thought I was going to pass out. Never in my life have I felt like this. I didn't realize I could hurt this much. All I can think about is the burden of her statement and I want to die.

A Pain Like No Other

I was woken up at 5AM on Tuesday, April 21st by a phone call from my mother. I knew it wasn't good because she never calls me that early. I thought my grandmother or grandad had died; they are both in such poor health. But no...

My 13 year old cousin died. In the fog of being half-awake all I could respond with was "WHAT?!" I could not believe what she was telling me...

On April 1st, T was diagnosed with leu.kemia. She had been having very bad pain in her leg so she was taken to the doctor and they thought it was just muscle strain. A few days later her leg swelled up, so they sent her to the hospital and made the diagnosis. Her friends all thought it was an April Fools' joke. Thankfully it was the treatable form and she started che.mo right away. She was put into remission on Friday (17th) and we were all so thankful. Her che.mo had done an amazing job, and thanks to some blood transfusions she was feeling so much better. Over the weekend she started feeling bad, but by Monday she was in a lot of pain again so they took her back to the hospital.

Arriving, her blood pressure was 60/20. They ran some bloodwork and found out she had a very aggressive infection: staph. They tried to give her antibiotics, but her little 90 lb body couldn't handle the stress of the infection, the chemo and the strong antibiotics. They put her on a ventilator to try and help her body rest, but her heart stopped around midnight. They continued CPR on her for almost 2 hours, but she just wasn't strong enough.

I have spent the rest of the week driving back and forth from my home to my aunt and uncles (about 45 minutes away) every day after work. Yesterday was the funeral and probably the worst day of my life. My cousin was such a sweetheart. Granted because she was almost 12 years younger than me, we weren't as close as some of my other cousins, but we saw each other often and had lots in common, like the fact that we were the only ones with red hair :) Watching the videos of her life, hearing things about her from her friends and watching my aunt and uncle say good-bye to their only daughter is something I will never forget. I held it together pretty well until they went up to her coffin and my aunt started sobbing. I have never cried so hard in my entire life. I just leaned over to my mom and wept in her arms. The pain we are all feeling is too great to describe.

"If I should go tomorrow it would never be good-bye,
for I have left my heart with you, so don't you ever cry.
The love that's deep within me, shall reach you from the stars,
you'll feel it from the heavens, and it will heal the scars."