Real World Peeves, Disgruntlement, and Irks.

[Ganymede]

I can't even right now.

Everyone seems to want something or need something. This is the problem with being somewhat reliable and helpful. Do this, do that. Respond to this, reply to that. If I weren't so damned good at my job, I probably wouldn't be half as stressed as I am.

Now, the cat won't eat. Again. Just stopped eating over the weekend. And I caught myself thinking, in earnest, that if he would just die already I would have one less thing I would have to worry about on a daily basis.

There's too much to do, and too much to give a shit about. I honestly begin to understand the concept of compassion fatigue, and I've hit the point of exhaustion.

[Alamias]

@Ganymede I know where you are. I have been there before, and recently at that. I'm sorry you are having to deal with it.

[Ganymede]

@Alamias said in Real World Peeves, Disgruntlement, and Irks.:

I know where you are. I have been there before, and recently at that. I'm sorry you are having to deal with it.

That's all right.

Watch what you wish for, it seems; my cat is going to die tomorrow.

That's not even a joke.

You see, my cat, over the past couple of weeks, has not been able to eat. For a brief respite, we had him on steroids, an antibiotic, and an appetite stimulant. For three days, the poor guy could eat wet food, after having lost about 3 pounds in 3 months. He had not been eating right, but switching food seemed to help him eat. Until he started coughing up blood, and then stopped eating altogether.

The good thing about becoming emaciated was that it was easy for the veterinarian to detect the massive lump under his chest. A previous x-ray didn't catch it, or the mass grew quite large in just a month or so. That's not uncommon in cats, I learned today. The veterinarian thought that it might be liver cancer, or stomach cancer, but suffice to say that the mass is pronounced, hardened, and likely malignant.

We paid to get an ultrasound today just so we would know for certain what would kill our cat.

Once we get the diagnosis tomorrow, we plan to put him down. There are options like chemotherapy, but given that our cat is severely anemic (16% of normal red blood cell count), that would probably kill him. He refuses to eat or drink now, and his organs will shut down over time. So, doing something or doing nothing will lead to a prolonged, likely-painful death.

I didn't burst into tears until I was able to hug my children, who were very confused why their parent, dressed in a suit from work, was clinging to them.

If there's a word to describe my cat, it would be stupid. He was so very stupid, even for a cat. Afraid of everything to boot: he was successfully scared off by an ant once, and it was just the most pathetic thing in the world. But our cat loved the simple things in life: hopping into your lap for a purr and pet; eating the same damn food every day, which probably didn't help his diet at all; and, of course, chasing a red dot until he ran square into the fireplace glass.

I will likely get to watch him depart from this world quietly and peacefully.

If there were ever an argument for euthanasia, this would be it. I can handle crying from knowing I will lose a dear friend, but I do not think I could handle watching him slowly slip away from poison or atrophy.

If I seem a little distant for a while, this is probably the reason why.

Work seems so petty and stupid right now.

[Auspice]

@Ganymede

I'm sorry, Gany.

And don't be upset at yourself (if you are) for having that wish. We all, when we are so very stressed out, have wishes like that (the 'if only...'). Relating to us, to pets, to our jobs, etc... They're never honest wishes, they're just... the stress, the anxiety, the depression (or whatever) talking.

So, y'know: if any part of you is mad at yourself for that, don't be. It was human and bot jokes aside, you are human.

Love the kitty tonight, love the kids, and yes. Euthanasia is humane. It's better to pass in peace than to suffer in pain. Wholly agree.

[Ganymede]

@Auspice

I don't feel responsible for the diagnosis.

Feeling helpless is not a feeling I relish. I do recognize there are things I can do little about, and that this is one of them. Underneath the robot, I am actually very much an alpha wolf, so the concept of not being able to do anything does not sit well with LawyerCatBot.

And, unfortunately, my cat must remain in the ER. He may need a transfusion, and they are performing the ultrasound tomorrow. I am going to make arrangements for my parents to watch the monsters while my partner and I journey to the clinic to say our farewells, and we will hold him gingerly until the end of his watch.

I will eventually learn to convert my sadness into blinding anger. I just haven't had enough bourbon yet.

[Aria]

@Ganymede said in Real World Peeves, Disgruntlement, and Irks.:

@Auspice

and we will hold him gingerly until the end of his watch.

Jesus Christ, now I'm crying.

Gany, I am so, so, so sorry. It aches to lose a dear friend, and I know that feeling of barely contained frustration/hysteria about not being able to do anything to help quite well. Except for what you're doing. It really is a kindness to take on the pain of ending his. This is doing everything you can for him, even if it doesn't feel that way right now.

[Alamias]

@Ganymede Oh, I am so sorry. =(

[surreality]

@Ganymede All the hugs, if welcome, and all the bourbon either way. I am so sorry.

The helplessness is awful. And it's damnably unavoidable because it happens so fast. They're fine and then they're just not, and while it means no extended suffering for them, the helplessness sucks and it hurts.

The only consolation we can really have there is that that's a hurt for us, and not them. And, well... that counts for something, even if it doesn't really help or ease it any.

[TiredEwok]

@Ganymede

I am so sorry.

[Sparks]

@Ganymede - It's never easy to say goodbye to a pet, even when it's the right time. I had to say goodbye to my beloved corgi last year; nothing anyone could say really lessened the grief, and I'm sure nothing we can say here will do so for you, either. But I think almost all of us know how you feel, and the sympathy we have for your situation is genuine. I'm sorry you're going through this.

[ZombieGenesis]

@Ganymede I'm truly sorry to hear this. My thoughts are with you.

[saosmash]

@Ganymede You have my deepest sympathy. This is so hard.

[Scissors]

I lost a cat many years ago, when I was just out of college. I adopted her from SPCA when she was three months old, but she wasn't in the best of health (probably why she was abandoned in the first place). She only lived for a couple of years but she was my constant companion during her time with me. I was devastated when she died, and I've been unable to have another pet ever since.

So @Ganymede I completely sympathize with your sadness. This is reminding me of my old pal Freya.

[Ganymede]

@Scissors

I am sorry that my experience is bringing up sad memories.

Gay Edward -- he loved men dearly -- was a wholesome and dumb cat. He's the cat everyone wants: lazy as shit, warm as fuck, and stupid as hell. He was going to turn 10 this year.

The diagnosis is far worse than we thought, so I know that euthanasia is probably the only reasonable thing to do. He has two masses on his stomach, and the ultrasound showed fluid collecting in his stomach tissue. Given his anemia, the doctor suspected this to be blood. I can only imagine what it feels like to have two cancerous, hard masses growing on your stomach, along with having an un-burst blood boil on the inside.

Like, holy fuck, no wonder he didn't want to eat.

I will be putting him down in a few hours. I will go secure with the knowledge that our decision is the right one. I will put the needle in, if asked. I will push down the plunger. Because, goddammit, were I in that position I would want my loved ones to fucking let me go and do the honor of bringing a merciful end.

I feel that we focus so much on the sanctity of life that we forget about the dignity of life. I thank God that I have the opportunity to give my cat the latter, which is a gift I hope my loved ones will give me at some point.

I'm going to sing Dust in the Wind tomorrow at karaoke.

[mietze]

I am so sorry for your loss, Gany. Lots of love going out to you and the family. I lost my sweet dumb old man a few years ago (I thought he was the stupidest cat I ever met, but our current male cat is shockingly even dumber.) He was a very pretty tuxedo boy who was the most cuddly cat I've ever had. He loved children and happily let toddlers maul him, babies chew on his tail, and preschoolers dress him in doll clothes. He started shedding tons of weight when he was almost 16. The last year of his life I made all of his food, fed him baby food, laced everything with cat-ensure, hand fed him, whatever it took, as long as he seemed happy and sociable. He took a snap turn for the worst after we had already been talking about putting him down when it was clear he wasnt enjoying life anymore and I ended up rushing him to the emergency vet in a padded baby Bjorn strapped to my chest (I didnt want him to die alone in the carrier. Probably not the best driving decision I've made). At least I got to hold him and cuddle him while he was put down, the techs were wonderful and were able to do everything with him in my arms.

It was a relief to have him pass and end his pain. I hope that through the sadness you and your partner get to feel a little of that peace.

[Ganymede]

@mietze said in Real World Peeves, Disgruntlement, and Irks.:

It was a relief to have him pass and end his pain. I hope that through the sadness you and your partner get to feel a little of that peace.

Thank you.

I think I'm past the sadness. The feeling of helplessness went away when I realized that there is something I can do: give him a peaceful passing. I'm looking forward to it, knowing that he is in substantial pain and suffering.

As macabre and as morbid as that sounds, I find the idea of being able to end his watch comforting and empowering.

[surreality]

Dear neighbors:

I hate you less than most of our neighbors, which is saying something.

Normally, I would cherish the smell of your brand new fire pit you decided to break in tonight... all night long... since before dinner time... with no sign of it abating as we near midnight.

I have the plague, though, and I can barely fucking breathe. I get winded walking down the hall I'm so gunked up.

I am, to put it mildly, not in a state in which I enjoy the very strong smell of fire pit and thick smoke in the air, and I smoke clove cigarettes goddammit.

I cannot taste or smell this clove cigarette, but I am choking on fire pit.

All the side-eye, normally cool neighbors, all the side-eye.

-The Art Hermit on the Opposite Corner

[Ganymede]

It's midnight here and it's too quiet now.

Most nights, he'd just sit at my feet, as I'd sit on the couch; our legs sprawled out, relaxing after a day. Those nights seem long gone.

I did as I promised. As macabre and as morbid as my words were, nothing could have prepared me for what happened. And, in truth, I underestimated the power of 6 pounds of lively fur settling into the watch that ends the night.

When they brought him out, it was in a blanket. We put him on the couch in that deathly quiet room reserved for the most solemn communion a pet owner can go through. We pet him, and he tried to purr, but what came out was akin to a death rattle, a noise that shook what was left of him happily and warmly. As my partner began to cry, he turned to her, set a paw against her leg, and stopped purring altogether.

He was ready.

They advise you to put a blanket across your legs: when the chemicals take effect, the body relaxes and sometimes releases what's left inside. We put him on one, then set them in my lap; I set my forearm along his back, and settled my fingers against that part of his neck where I've stroked him on so many quiet evenings in the past decade. He seemed to relax a little, and his tail stopped flopping back and forth. I could see his chest rising and falling.

Two shots: one milky white, the other a translucent pink which would deliver the final overdose. The doctor slipped the needle into the I.V., and as she emptied the syringe with excruciating slowness I could feel him slowly going numb. And with the second, I could sense him escaping from under my fingertips and out of his body.

We managed to hold it together until the doctor left. I will never forget the ashen wail to my right, and the sense that I had finally lost something that I would never get back.

Good night, sweet prince.

[TiredEwok]

@Ganymede

I am so, so sorry. I wish I had the words to make it okay, but I don't.

[wahoo]

Ugh, I went through this last week @Ganymede, and it's fucking awful. Hope our two idiots are causing trouble in cat heaven together.