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Two nights ago, I evidently gave him too much insulin, and he went into insulin shock. Yesterday morning, he began having seizures. Brought him to the emergency vet, who gave him some dextrose solution. There was, unfortunately, no way I could afford a $600-$800 vet bill for one night to watch him, so I took him home. I held him in my arms for nearly six hours. He kept having mini seizures, and a couple of times, he actually bit down on my hand and fingers and broke the skin, which was painful.
I was completely lost--I had nothing I could do except hold him and tell him I loved him. At 3:30 this morning, I finally fell asleep, and when I awoke at 6 this morning, he had died during the time I slept. He was next to my head on a blanket when he went.
I'm really getting tired of my kids going on me. I got spared for one year--I lost Amanda in 2005, Jessica in 2006 and now Garibaldi. He was 13.
I'm feeling guilty about the insulin, but logically, I never meant to harm him, only help him. How is it that we know these facts, and still fall to pieces?
I kind of knew yesterday that he was not going back to his usual self, but there was a part of me that couldn't be convinced of that. 9/10 logic and rational thinking, and 1/10th irrational emotion--guess which one rules the mind and soul?
I would like to think that his death was a peaceful one--I'm not sure.. He's the first of mine who has died at home, and I'm just lost. It hurts in my soul right now.
He went from about 22 lbs. down to 10 and a half lbs in the course of about two months. So it was inevitable that he was going to go soon. Not being able to afford to go to the vets when it is necessary doesn't help, either. Everything just sucks.
:cry:
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