i couldn't do it.
it just wasn't her time.
i called and said,' let's do it', so they knew i was coming. then i got lost which is fucking stupid because i grew up in waltham and i've been to this place numerous times- i had brought brown there and of course i had just fucking dropped farah girl off there and came back home with no problems. so they set you up in this ' saying goodbye is hard' sort of living room with scented candles( LORD! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!), windows with stained glass contact paper on them and a comfy death couch. oh and joss sticks. i know they're trying to be helpful and soothing but i kept thinking i'd rather od in a bathtub at home or on my couch dressed in a muumuu and pumps or perhaps be run over by a truck because at least there's a high likelihood no coconut scented votives would be involved.
when they brought farah in to me, she looked better than she did when i brought her in to emergency sunday night. her eyes were clear and she was alert. i tried desperately for a last meaningful moment but she was squirming around so much i kept thinking-" this cat is too sick to live? there's something wrong." it just didn't seem right. i know when i called dr. lipton those 2 times i had to euthanize my older cats, i instinctively knew it was the right thing- they were in my house and i had been with them constantly. i saw with my eyes and sensed their downturn on those very days. i have never questioned letting them go- it was hard as hell -but i have never once questioned the rightness of it. this was different. everything within me, once i had her in my arms, said-"it's just not time. you can't do it." it was so fucking weird. she eventually got away from me and i had to crawl around the floor and tip over that couch to snag her. it's also the first time she has EVER hissed at me. she KNEW, ok, she KNEW what goes down in that room and she was having none of it.
thankfully the doctor was that same one who admitted her with whom i've had the majority of contact. she sat on the floor and told me she was shocked when she came in and they told her i was coming to be with farah when she was put down.it's funny, when i got off the phone this afternoon with the other doctor i felt like i should have spoken to this woman again before deciding anything . she had been perfectly honest about the seriousness of farah's condition, the likelihood she would not be long lived but also honest in pointing out that no one could really tell from the tests whether farah could be comfortable and sustainable at home with fluids. the only way was to try it. she had told me this all along based on what is known about chronic renal failure. i don't think she over inflated my hopes, it's just that this afternoon the other vet to me made it sound like in the end whatever was wrong was probably not treatable and that farah would just continue to decline.
i've had a cat with renal failure before so i understood the basics of what was going on with her body even though in farah's case the cause was and is still undetermined( it can't be 'caught'.).as the tests preformed did not indicate any of the known and treatable causes, the scenario presented to me over the phone was grave. perhaps i am more morbidly inclined or maybe it's just because i was so fucking stressed and filled with dread that i myself over emphasized the negative... but the prognosis reached was to my ears-" it can't be anything treatable, she'll just continue to deteriorate but we could try a biopsy- but the things it would show are most likely dire".
i guess over the phone it was easy for me to give up on her- being all rational and perhaps in denial about my motivations behind any decision. the inevitable is a lot less painful sooner than dragged out to later if just because of mileage alone. but once i laid eyes on farah and she became miss spunky monkey it dawned on me that there was nothing wrong with just saying" stop-i don't want to do this now". when the vet told me she felt like she'd been ' kicked in the stomach' because farah was going to be euthanized after tests that were not conclusive and that considering farah was stable, eating and drinking and her levels had come down instantly there was no reason not to try bringing her home-i felt that i was justified medically and not just emotionally in giving farah that chance. if i thought she was suffering and in pain i would have followed through. but she's sitting with me now having just wolfed down a plate of cat food. she's comfortably and peacefully napping.
we'll do what we can.
life is the best birthday present ever- and that's the whole point now isn't it?