First snippets of Fall

Doctor, doctor

As expected, H's health continues to be up and down, but mostly slowly down. Most recently, he's been having stomach pain and is having a much harder time walking than ever before. Some of the walking issue is his dementia and some of it is that he has a somewhat lame leg and hand due to a stroke about 15 years ago. H said to me last night, "I'm so mad at how frail I've gotten. I worry that I'll never recover...."

H and I joke about his dance card being full (on both sides) and now we are talking about stapling another dance card on so that we can add a potential gall bladder issue as well as the need for ongoing PT, not to mention more trouble holding things due to shaking, new pain now in his scalp from neuropathy, etc. And he's not eating very much and is down to 140 lbs again.

So, a series of Dr. visits this week...everyday this week, a new doctor, an old doctor, a referral, etc. And then next week, Dr. appts for him 3 of the 5 days. Hard to find the time to work.

Now, we haven't had a spate of Dr. appts like this in a long time (thankfully), but even tho' I am more than completely capable of dealing with it all, it bores the hell out of me. And while I am sympathetic and want to help, I just wonder when this will all stop...for H's sake as well as mine.

A death in the family

Our young Siamese cat finally died; he should have lived for 20+ years as Siamese are a very long-lived breed. Last Tuesday, I found him stretched out on the kitchen floor in a pool of his own (well, you know) at about 6am. And he had been coughing up blood overnight. We knew that he was close, but like most folks, we were looking for the right time...not too soon, not too late...you know. I feel really bad that we didn't put him down before he got to this point.

I went to comfort him...not knowing if he was dead or not...and gently petted his head and called his name. He cried and cried and cried and cried...wailing really...and his face was sunken in (dramatic since the night before) and his eyes hollow and red. It was like knives into my heart...my poor boy...he is only 7 years old. He was one of my favorite kitties of all time. He cried for hours until we got him to the vet when they opened at 9. I can still hear his crying in my head a week later.

So we go to the vet, H and I, to put our friend down. Now, I am a complete sobbing mess...can't even talk to the vet. H to his credit was very calm and just spent time telling the cat how much we loved him until the end. H hardly shed a tear. But I blubbered all the way there and back and the whole time we were at the vet. Last cat we lost, I shed a tear or two, but sheesh, nothing like this.

I think finding the cat in the state I did triggered a lot of my grief around finding H in in similar states (many times) over the years. If I had found the cat dead, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. But seeing someone you love so sick they can't raise their head, looking so different from just the night before, and crying and crying and crying...very hard.

I am so glad that my kitty is relieved of his pain and suffering; I am glad that we were able to do that for him.