Dear Michelle I love the image of you feeding Simon the sour cream (and by the way, it's thanks to you that Levi was able to get to enjoy the taste of sour cream in his last days--I would never have thought of it--he lapped it up, and it was all he wanted). Please keep thinking of the good times with Simon. Don't torment yourself with what-ifs. Easy for me to say, I know (and if you're the Queen of "what-ifs" then I'm your lady-in-waiting) but I hate to see you beat yourself up. Your recent time with Simon was so intense, caring as you were for him every minute of every day, it's no wonder that you are grief-stricken and totally drained. I think for people like you and me death hits even harder because we're not at all sure there is anything beyond. (Forgive me if I got that wrong---my memory plays tricks all the time.) And death is inevitable. That's why it's so important for you to remember you did the best job you could while Simon was physically with you--no one could have loved or cared for him more than you. No one. I really do believe Simon is in a better place now wherever that may be, simply because he's no longer suffering. So please be kind, caring and loving to yourself, Michelle. Allow yourself to grieve, of course, but give yourself a break too. Think of the good times with Simon. Enjoy your other little furballs. Remember that you have a wonderfully supportive partner in Gray. Remember that you're only human. Remember that you are also a wonderfully compassionate human, who every second you're alive on this planet makes the world a better place. If everyone was cast from your mold, Michelle, what a different and better world this would be. Hell, I'm in tears now! (Luckily I have a wonderful co-worker, who puts up with things like hearing me call up the crematorium to find out where my pet's ashes are, and listens patiently time after time when I regale him with the latest antics of Mickey or Flavia.) You're always in my thoughts, much love and big hugs, Kerry
-----Original Message----- From: [EMAIL PROTECTED] [mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED] On Behalf Of [EMAIL PROTECTED] Sent: Tuesday, February 08, 2005 8:22 AM To: felvtalk@vlists.net Subject: Re: Simon passed away Thank you Kathy, and everyone else who has written. I have been offline for a few days, in bed with grief mostly. It actually was hard to medicate Simon and give him fluids and syringe feed him sometimes, and he did try to get away from me. That is why I stopped doing it the first time I thought he was dying. When he felt ok, it wasn't so bad, but when he felt bad he hated it and took a while to forgive me each time. I tried to limit how often I did it. I just wish this last time I had limited it more as well, in terms of vet visits, etc. I know that I must sound insane to you with all this self-blame, but I also know that many of you must have felt this as well. I am the queen of "what-ifs." What if I had kept him on steroid shots instead of going back to pred pills. Would that have prevented an auto-immune reaction? What if I had kept him on CCNU instead of letting the oncologist try Adriamycin? What if, instead of taking him to the vet, I had done what I did the last time and just given him the same amount of steroids and held him close until he either died or recovered? These are not answerable questions, but they swirl around me at all times. And the biggest one: What if I had noticed his jaundice and his decreased appetite when it started, rather than when he was neon yellow (I did not even notice it then but just took him in because he did not want his baby food!)? Most cats on the feline lymphoma list serve do not have it in their bone marrow, which he did, and which is Stage V. The day I brought him to the local vet, his hematocrit was normal. That was a friday. By the time he saw the oncologist on Monday it was 17. The lymphoma clearly spread into his bone marrow over those few days, and if I had brought him in earlier it might never have done so. I was not paying much attention to him or spending much time with him or the others because my dog Nubi had just died of cancer. I did then what I am doing to my other animals now-- stayed in bed, did only the minimal care, did not pay much attention. If I could be better in my grief about the others I probably would have caught that he was eating less and was turning yellow. I remember thinking that there was more wet food left than usual, but I thought all four of them were eating less because I had run out of their favorites, so I did not think anything of it until I saw him not finish his morning baby food two days in a row. I was not staying to watch them eat. I am just so incapable of doing anything in grief, and I was grieving then too. And I think that influenced the way things went with him. Anyway, thanks for listening. His absence in the house is so strong. There was never a moment, in the last month when he was in the main part of the house with me, that I did not know where he was or what he was doing. He made it known at all times, and was the center of all attention. I have this image of the first time I fed him sour cream in bed. I had bought it the night before to see if he would eat it because he was eating very little, weeks ago, and he loved it. The next morning he came to cuddle in bed as always, and was laying on his back with his legs in air, snuggled in the blankets. I was rubbing his belly and he had his eyes squeezed tight and was purring. I went and got sour cream and fed it to him off my fingers in bed, and he stayed like that, on his back and purring, while eating the sour cream an getting it all over his face. At that moment he was so blissed out, and so thought he had won the lottery, so i try to think of him like that. It became a routine after that that after morning cuddles I would get his sour cream and feed him some and then we would get up. In the last week, he stopped wanting it, or eating anything in the morning, which I guess I should have known was a sign of something. But he was crazy energetic an eating and night and actually gaining weight, so I did not know what to think. Sorry for going on and on. Thanks for all your support, Michelle In a message dated 2/7/05 10:53:11 PM, [EMAIL PROTECTED] writes: << I know these things because you never said it was hard to medicate him, that he would run from you whenever you approached him, or that he was indifferent to you. >> This email and any files transmitted with it are confidential and intended solely for the use of the individual or entity to whom they are addressed. If you have received this email in error please notify the system manager. This message contains confidential information and is intended only for the individual named. If you are not the named addressee you should not disseminate, distribute or copy this e-mail.
