Thank you Joan for sharing you experience. I think I may call the
housecall vet. I've never felt so indecisive in my life. It's amazing
how such a sweet, loving little soul can stir up such despair.
N
Doljan, Joan wrote:
Nina,
I am so, so, sorry about you losing Grace. I think you are right, in
thinking that she feels it is time to go. I think she is turning away from
you to spare both of you more pain. I have had to euthanize very thin cats
as well and there has never been a problem. The tranquilizer has always gone
in gently and then they just relax, sometimes sleep and sometimes "cross" at
that time as well. I always hold them as well and then put them gently on a
towel or blanket.
Again, I am so sorry about your pain and sadness.
Joan
-----Original Message-----
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
[mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] On Behalf Of Nina
Sent: Thursday, September 22, 2005 10:18 AM
To: felvtalk@felineleukemia.org
Subject: Question about Euthanasia and my Grace
My Beloved Group,
First of all, I'm sorry I haven't been able to participate fully in the
group this last couple of weeks. I love you all, but for the last
couple of days, I haven't even been able bring myself to read the
posts. I'm physically and emotionally exhausted by Grace and my last
efforts to bring her back to health. Yesterday, I finally resigned
myself to thinking of our time together as 'death bed vigil'. Those of
you that know me, know that I pray all your babies are safe and healthy,
and those that are losing, or have lost the battle; my love is with
you. I don't know what I would have done without the love and support
of this group. You have been a Godsend to me and my sweet fur angels.
Yesterday morning Gracie "told" me she does not want to stay. Among
other signs, I was syringe feeding her and she refused to swallow. I'm
trying my best to make peace with her decision. I know you understand.
She hasn't eaten on her own for a long time now and she's skin and
bones. She spent a nice peaceful day, and I did my best to just "be
with her". During the afternoon she made it clear that she didn't want
to be sung to, or touched. It's so hard on me to watch her pull away.
At one point, she seemed a bit agitated so I ground up a tiny bit of
Valium and gave it to her in water. She was so relaxed she even did a
stretch-semi roll out on the patio in the sun. She did something that
startled me, and got my hopes up again. (I just can't stop believing in
miracles). I was giving the dogs treats and she was laying on the
couch. Well, we have this thing Grace and I. Whenever the dogs get
treats she'd come bounding over the barrier and expect one too. When
she saw me giving the dogs treats this afternoon, she jumped off the
couch. I started to cry, because I thought, there's no way she's going
to take a treat. I put one in front of her anyway and you could have
knocked me over with a sigh. It took her a minute to decide to eat it,
but she not only ate that one, but 3 more. Then she ate 3 or 4 pieces
of kibble! My hopes were short lived though.
I've been up with her most of the night. She still doesn't want my
attention. She doesn't even want me to look at her, it's breaking my
heart to say goodbye, and I guess it may be making it harder for her to
go, although that is not my intention. It's not like I don't want her
to leave her body, I do. I want her suffering to be over. Yesterday,
when I knew it was time, I called my Internist's office to see if Dr.
Ortega would be willing to help her cross. Grace has always liked Dr.
Ortega, and I thought she would be calmest with her. Well, my Internist
isn't going to be in the office until Friday. It doesn't seem possible
that Grace will still be here by then. My stance has always been, that
when I know it's the end, when I know that the chance of a recovery
after treatment isn't possible, then it's time to help them cross. Even
though Grace is peaceful, (she just lays on her side and breathes
shallow, but relaxed breaths), I have a hard time letting nature take
it's course. It's arrogant of me, but I can't stand seeing her like
this. I'm also so worried about her being in pain, when I look in her
eyes, she doesn't seem in pain, but she doesn't seem like herself
either. I wouldn't mind vacant, but it's almost like she's... not quite
angry, more like annoyed to still be here.
Just to let you know... Over the past week or so, I think I may have
mentioned it, we've been following an extensive homeopathic regime with
the help of a practitioner named Darla Palmer. While it didn't save
Grace, it did bring her back into her body, and for brief glorious
moments, back to me. It was such a joy to see the Grace I know and love
shining out of her eyes again.
Anyway, here's my question: Can anyone tell me how difficult it is to
put an animal to sleep in an emaciated condition? Of course, I don't
want to make things harder on her, I want to ease her suffering. What
if they can't find a vein, because they're so small? I just want to
know what to expect. I'm thinking of calling a house call vet to see if
he can come today, but I don't want this to be harder on Grace. I'm
still struggling with the thought that my underlying motives might be to
make things easier on me. I just want to do what's right for Grace. My
judgement is clouded, my mind and heart are clouded as well. I don't
even have the energy to read this post over to see if it makes sense. Thanks
for always caring, Nina
