May Contain Peanuts

Helplessness

This past week, I had to do what I would say has been the hardest thing I've done so far in my life. I had to put my 5 1/2 year old cat down. About 2 months ago, he was diagnosed with a large and growing tumor beneath his stomach. The vet gave the option of surgery, but due to its placement, the chance for success was very unlikely. So as an alternative, he was prescribed some fluids and steroids and plenty of attention. He lasted 2 good months before his body started breaking down and finally, his quality of life just disappeared.

It is quite sad that he was taken away at only 5 1/2 years old, but the real blow to my stomach was the simple fact that there was nothing I could do to help him out or get him through this condition. In those final days with him, I found myself overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness. Something that I cared for was dying and I had no course of action to help at all. All I could do was sit with him, try to make him comfortable and wait for the inevitable. Many tears were shed.

What this brings me to is something I am quite scared of. Yes, this was just a cat, but he was a part of the family. Luckily for me, I have not had to deal with a lot of death in my family. There have been grandparents and great grandparents that have passed, maybe some long distant cousins or relatives and even the family dog, but this time it was much closer and a lot more real. What I am frightened of is that day when one of my immediate family must leave us. I am not talking about a tragic accident or incident when all of a sudden they are gone. Rather, I mean when one of them is diagnosed with something and it is only a matter of time. This period of waiting is no doubt tragic for that person, but for all those that love him, it is just as heavy. It is so hard to see that person (or animal) passing the time knowing full when that the end date is near and there is just nothing you can do to avoid it. You try your best to cherish every minute left, but we all know time does not stop for anyone. It will come.

This is just what happened with my cat. It took a liking to sitting underneath the toilet in my powder room, right next to an air register that blew cool air on his stomach. I would sit on the toilet and just be around him, hoping my presence would give a touch of comfort to him. But that whole time, it tore me apart knowing that my presence was the extent of the help I could give. I even entertained notions of being guilty for his condition, simply because of my inability to help. A silly notion, but grief can manifest itself in odd and often illogical ways.

In the end, the tears kept flowing and the pictures and memories were reviewed and life went on. It is slowly getting easier to deal with his absence, but I still have that dark stain in my head of the memory of those last few days. I wanted to hold on to every day I could with him, but with that came the evidence that there was still nothing I could do and I was only prolonging his destiny. The last thing I wanted was for him to suffer or be in pain. So, I had to let things run its course and realize that life will continue without him. He will always be missed and all I can do is hope he forgives me for both my actions and inactions. Perhaps more importantly though, I need to forgive myself.