tears are inadequate
Sep. 23rd, 2007 09:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
eimarraA colleague of my husband's hosts solstice and equinox parties every year. Last night, we went to the party. As we were leaving, just before 11 p.m., the vet called my husband's cell phone. It wasn't urgent; she was the doctor on the new shift, and she wanted to talk about Dancer's condition. Dancer was clearly in pain and still having a lot of trouble breathing. My husband said it was clear the vet really wanted us to consider putting Dancer to sleep.
I'd been thinking about that, wondering if I was being selfish, inflicting pain on her unnecessarily. On the other paw, without knowing what was wrong, I didn't want to make an irreversible decision. What if she could be treated and go back to being her happy, healthy self?
Twenty minutes later, just as we were driving across the river, his cell rang again. We both knew it couldn't be good, and he pulled off on the next side street, parked, and talked.
Shortly after the first phone call, they saw liquid coming from Dancer's mouth and nose. They attempted a chest tap to draw off fluid. She went into arrest, and they couldn't get her back.
The fluid from the tap was dark and bloody, and the vet said it was the sort they usually see with cancer, from a tumor. So I guess when the lab results came back, we would've found that out.
I wish I'd had the chance to hold her one last time, to let her go knowing that she was loved, not feeling abandoned in a strange place surrounded by people she didn't know, caged off where she couldn't even be touched.
Thank you everyone for your warm wishes and thoughts. I do appreciate them.
I'd been thinking about that, wondering if I was being selfish, inflicting pain on her unnecessarily. On the other paw, without knowing what was wrong, I didn't want to make an irreversible decision. What if she could be treated and go back to being her happy, healthy self?
Twenty minutes later, just as we were driving across the river, his cell rang again. We both knew it couldn't be good, and he pulled off on the next side street, parked, and talked.
Shortly after the first phone call, they saw liquid coming from Dancer's mouth and nose. They attempted a chest tap to draw off fluid. She went into arrest, and they couldn't get her back.
The fluid from the tap was dark and bloody, and the vet said it was the sort they usually see with cancer, from a tumor. So I guess when the lab results came back, we would've found that out.
I wish I'd had the chance to hold her one last time, to let her go knowing that she was loved, not feeling abandoned in a strange place surrounded by people she didn't know, caged off where she couldn't even be touched.
Thank you everyone for your warm wishes and thoughts. I do appreciate them.
