So many conflicting emotions

It was a tough weekend, and it was because of cancer.  On Friday of last week, I took a darling 5 year old bundle of purrrr and love and had him put down because of Lymphoma.  He’d dropped a LOT of weight and was literally skin, bones and fur.  He was horribly dehydrated and it was because he likely hadn’t eaten or drank anything for a few days.  The lump was in his throat and it was obvious he was exhausted.  He’d been hiding in the lil’est gifts closet during the day and then snuggling with me when I watched tv at night.  Having had another (older) cat have cancer, I recognized the signs and new taking him in I was likely going to say goodbye to him.

Darling BBE was working evening shift and told me over and over that we had the funds to help him.  Not to worry about the money.  He’s a cat lover as well, but he was watching me agonize over the pain this poor animal was in.  I was there by myself (although I know he would have been there with me if he could have been) and I had to make the decision, either euthanize him or treat him.   When the doctor said “cancer” she asked what I wanted to do next and honestly I didn’t even think, I simply said “we should let him go”.  It was out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying.

Going home with an empty cage was very painful.  Every time I looked at it, I broke down crying again.  My instincts had told me I’d done the right thimg for Myles, but I was starting to second guess myself.  Was I selfish?  Was I being cheap?  Should I at least have TRIED some options if there were any, hell, shouldn’t I at least have asked?  Yep, the guilt was starting to get me.  Fortunately for me, BBE came home from work early.  He wouldn’t hear any of my “oh don’t worry about me, I’m fine” protest, I was a mess, and he knew that, and he wanted to be with me.

I was going about what was planned to be a fun and adventurous weekend, trying not to dwell on the guilt that was bothering me, then, out of the blue, my former sister-in-law called me.  She had a question that was work related for me, but also told me how her cat (16 years old) had been diagnosed with the same illness in early September.  When she and her daughter (my 26 year old niece) found out, they weren’t ready to say goodbye and opted for treatment.  She told me about the steroid shots and pain killers … and how it was simply heartbreaking to watch her suffer for another two weeks.  At the end of two weeks, they decided to say goodbye to their beloved cat.  She praised me for my strength in making a difficult and selfless decision.  Wow, that was EXACTLY what I needed to hear.  She not only saved my weekend, but picked me up enough that I was ready to go out and get another little bundle of purring love.  I have my beautiful little torti tabby adjusting to my house in the bathroom.

Coincidentally, it was the “Run for the Cure”, a race to raise funds for cancer research.  This same former sister-in-law ran with my other former sister-in-laws, one who is a breast cancer survivor.  I get it, we need to fight for a cure, and I’m so happy my former sister-in-law beat this horrible disease, when fighting makes sense, god dammit FIGHT!  But when it’s truly the end, why are we more “humane” to animals, allowing them to peacefully and gracefully end their suffering.  I hope (god forbid) I’m ever struck with a terminal illness, that we have the HUMANITY to end suffering.