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It's been 15 days now since my cat India died. On that day I was immediately beset by two powerful tidal waves of guilt and grief which have only started to become manageable. While I struggle with some ups and downs, that first day - in which my sorrow and self-recrimination was so strong I literally could not sit still - has been put behind me and each day that gets me further away from that point brings me greater peace. I've used some thoughts and techniques to try to handle the aftermath of India's passing. Without them I think I would be in far worse shape. I realize my background and situation may be different from those of some or many here, but I hope some of these reflections will be useful or thought-provoking to others. If I can help make someone feel at least a little better by sharing this then I will feel the time spent organizing these concepts has been more than justified. India had been with me 15.5 years; all her life. When she died (for reasons that appear related to chronic renal failure and/or possibly ataxia; her BG had spiked up and down like an elevator, and she had been dehydrated and disoriented before passing away at the vet's office) I felt her loss painfully and acutely, but the guilt was even worse: I felt I hadn't done enough to help her; didn't get her to the vet on time; had worried about the finances of an extended hospital stay which now seems a very small and stupid worry. To counter the guilt that first day I threw myself into my work, knowing if I didn't occupy myself that I'd allow my own emotions to eat me alive. I am a neat freak and one thing that helps me to feel positive is order and control over my environment. I used this to my advantage. Finishing tasks held the emotions at bay. I knew however that I would have to lay everything out mentally and come to some conclusions I could live with or at least box up and put aside if I couldn't surmount the obstacles. I have the type of mind that will obsessively pore over issues again and again and again, no matter how neatly they seemed to be resolved five minutes ago. This too was something I realized I'd have to work against if I was going to get out of the pit of self-blame. With that in mind I sat down and wrote everything down the next night; every single detail I could think of. I refrained from interjecting opinion or justification into the document, at least until I'd had it all down and could then write a conclusion. Immediately I felt a sense of catharsis, then I built a sort of mental flowchart to protect myself from the incessant "You let your cat die" thoughts that were battering me full-scale. Each item was meant to build upon the last to give me a set of reasonings that work. This was not an attempt to "persuade" myself with a bunch of falsehoods but rather to objectively view the facts as if from an outsider's perspective and refrain from needless self-loathing and useless "what if?" scenarios. WHY DIDN'T I HELP HER SOONER? 1. India's condition was really only observed to be serious on my part at 6 pm on the last night of her life when I found her disoriented and with a high BG level. While she had been a bit sluggish without much appetite beforehand, it was nothing new. Thinking "if only I'd taken her back to the vet before" was pointless; as I said I'd seen some low periods in India's behavior where she wasn't very active, and she had always improved. Ergo, nothing raised a red flag on my part until 16 hours before her death. I am not psychic, unfortunately. 2. From 6 pm on during that final evening I thought India was hyperglycemic as her BG was so high it was off the chart. I didn't take her to the vet until much later; I consulted with this forum, kept monitoring her BG, and assumed she just needed time for the insulin I'd given her to work. This was fallacious reasoning on my part, but I DID have a plan, and I did take steps to try to help her. Had she been hypoglycemic that would have warranted a vet visit right away. And further thinking and reading has led me to realize that while I had troubling thoughts that night that perhaps India really was fading out for good, overall I was in denial over that; e.g. "She's always pulled through before, and she will again now." It wasn't conceivable to me then that my cat, after all we'd been through, might really be at the end. 3. The vet, and numerous other people I have talked to, pointed out to me that when cats are very ill or near death they can "hide" their symptoms to protect themselves; almost like waiting until the last minute and then unleashing everything in a fury. Granted, India had been a bit off before her last day came, but certainly not staggering about for days. The last 16 hours were the true problem hours and that was all I'd had to really address the crisis. COULD TAKING HER TO THE VET SOONER HAVE SAVED HER? 1. When India died the vet informed me that even if I'd taken her in immediately she would have had maybe a 10% or 15% chance. She had kidney failure and possibly other issues. I believe I saw her in the process of either a seizure or becoming comatose based on the way she stared off into space. She also exhibited twitching. The vet tried to rehydrate her and warm her up, but he described that it was almost as if she was "resisting" his attempts to help - as if she wanted to go, or it was her time to go. Maybe this last sounds ridiculous, but if this is a universe in which lives are lived out in measured fashion and when the end comes it is meant to happen, it seems to fit. 2. India hated the vet more than anything else. She was famous for being a "problem patient." If she knew she was dying and could have verbalized her wishes I know she would have rather died at home, where she was comfortable, with me. DID INDIA SUFFER ?
1. This was a big, big one. I'd been tormented by the notion of my cat lying in pain, hoping I would help her, and not receiving any relief until her death. But the vet told me India probably felt like she had a case of the flu and very little energy during her final hours. She hadn't been in pain, he said, but merely felt sick. The behavior I witnessed was not that of a cat in agony, which supports that. She seemed dazed and quiet, not amidst suffering.
WAS THE VET JUST TELLING ME A BUNCH OF FICTION TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER?
1. Other people and resources have corroborated that the final hours of a cat with CRF do not involve pain or suffering. Tanya's Feline CRF Information (http://www.felinecrf.org) was an excellent source of information for me. I actually found it several days after India died and reading that she had not been in pain took a huge load off my shoulders. Of course I'm upset my cat is gone, but to think that she was in torment for many hours while I stood by is an awful thought. Thankfully, it doesn't seem this was the case.
2. Similarly, other people have told me that, based on what I described regarding India's final night, she surely had something serious that I couldn't have fixed, and probably not the vet. Of course it doesn't make me happy to realize my cat had some major health problems which killed her, but it does alleviate the sense of worry about improper care being provided to her on my part or something avoidable that produced a missed opportunity.
Laying out these notions helped me to counter the guilt that otherwise might have paralyzed me, along with the plain realization that no matter how India died, I knew I would feel guilty and blame myself.
Then came the sorrow that India was gone. I'd known she was probably going to pass away in 2010 or 2011, but when the end comes for a loved one we always want more time with them. The first couple of days after she died, I dreading coming home to the place she wouldn't be. The basement - where my computer room is, and where the cat spent 99% of her time in her advancing years - was a very difficult place for me, since she wasn't there. Too quiet, too empty. I had to have a radio on for some sort of presence.
Two things I refused to take any form of relief from was the notion that I would no longer have to obtain insulin, needles, administer shots, check BG levels, etc. and that we would not have to board the cat for treatment if we went away. Both of these were necessary acts to care for a loved one; not having to do either meant my loved one was gone, so these were not things I chose to feel happy about not having to do.
I went to the mall a few days after India died to buy some things, and as I walked around I thought about the grief I felt and saw the weeks, months and years stretching ahead of me; time during which I envisioned myself carrying this pain around, locked in a mental prison of anguish. Then I realized that you can live in a mental prison, or a mental castle; if I chose to be miserable and unhappy then I could do that, but if I chose to feel happy that my cat had had a full life with me and I had given her a good home and produced lots of nice memories, then I could do that too. It was up to me. I thought about a little dial inside my head that was set to "sad" and envisioned turning it to "happy." As silly as it may sound, this did help me. I began to look at my life and find things to appreciate and find joy and comfort in.
-My cat's passing away provoked an outpouring of support and caring from coworkers, friends, family members and even people online who didn't know either of us (such as participants of this very board, of course), and this deeply touched me. So much kindness from so many people; I feel inspired now to make sure to work hard to provide the same back to the world - not just for those grieving for loved ones they've lost, but in ways to help make the community better or lend a hand to strangers. This is one legacy from my cat which I hope will go on for many, many years. Previously I'd been a bit quiet and withdrawn from people and have resolved to do so no longer but engage with others as much as possible and just try to make a difference.
-I read somewhere that the average indoor house cat lives between 14 and 16 years. India was 15.5 years; she lived almost to the higher end of that spectrum. It makes me feel good to know that even with diabetes and a medical emergency (diabetes-related) that occurred 15 months before she died, India enjoyed a full lifespan. I raised a cat from a few weeks old to the end of her life; she loved me and my life was better for having her.
-I moved around a lot during my twenties, roomed with some people and had to juggle a lot of events in my life, but never considered getting rid of my cat, who was my pal and sidekick. Maybe some fair-weather pet owners might dump a cat if it became too inconvenient for them but that's not an option for me. I felt proud that I'd managed to keep India with me no matter what.
-Similarly, when India was diagnosed with diabetes there was no question of not helping her and giving her the insulin she needed. She lived another 3.25 years because of that, whereas maybe some callous pet owners might have considered euthanasia.
-I am fortunate to have loved ones who I care about, and who care about me. Valuing them and appreciating every moment with them is something I've committed myself to, having seen again how every moment counts on this earth.
-I always try to work with perspectives and comparisons when times of trouble arrive. India dying was bad; my entire family being annihilated by a drunk driver would be an excruciating tragedy. This does not diminish the pain of the original event, but it does put the potential pain of an event which fortunately has not occurred alongside it, like putting a telephone pole next to a baseball bat, and makes the first event a bit easier to approach.
-I turned to my hobbies and rekindled a love for music, taking comfort in some of the artists whose work I enjoy. It's very important to try to get as much enjoyment as possible to help offset the grief. Same goes for humor; I like dumb, slapstick humor and sought it out wherever I could, using it as a natural medicine. I realize many might find it inconceivable to smile or laugh after a tragedy has occurred, or that it would be disrespectful to their departed feline, but our cats want us to be happy, and laughter has always been a great stress reducer for me.
-I made sure to exercise as much as possible. Exercise improves your mood and cognitive abilities; without it I don't think I could have mustered enough reason to find my way out of the pit of self-assassination.
-I counted up my digital camera photos of India and was gratified to find over 150. I put up pictures of her - which were painful to see at first but almost immediately turned into reassuring reminders of her - at home and at my office. Similarly, the vet gave me a "Kitty Angel" pin of a cat with wings and a halo; I carry this around with me as a sort of external manifestation of India - a totem, as I said in another post. As strange as it sounds, that does help me. I never leave home without her.
-I recognized that some of the grief I felt over India was being compounded by unrelated factors. For instance, I find Sunday afternoons depressing (some throwback to when I was a kid and dreaded going back to school the next day :-) ) and winter can be doubly so. The Sunday after India's death many factors were conspiring to make me feel unhappy. I've learned to separate the India-related grief from the general Sunday blahs or malaise produced by cold damp winter days.
-There is also the fact that I like having cats around, period. India was my only cat, so the house is now devoid of feline companionship which adds to my sadness. Of course this statement is not meant to downplay my relationship with India; I'm not saying having any cat around would immediately quell any and all grief (though we will be returning to pet ownership down the road); of course India was special to me and vice versa and we were good buddies, something unique that can't be replaced. But having a cat around makes things nicer.
-I am a moderate drinker, but knew that having a few drinks after India passed away would just be a mistake; it would not help in the long term and merely produce a hangover the next day. In this society there is a tendency to run out and get hammered if something unpleasant or stressful happens. I save the drinking for happy occasions.
-My kids have no shortage of stuffed animals around. As odd as it may seem, I like having one or two in the room - I have been an animal lover all my life. My son has a stuffed wolf that has the same fur color as India. Sometimes while I watch a movie or work on the computer this fellow will sit with me. Might sound dumb, but it helps.
-I talk to India, both in my head and out loud. Usually I will look at her picture every night before bed and say "Stay with me." When I used to go down cellar to my computer room (where the cat hung out most of the time) I used to make a tsk-tsk-tsk sound at the bottom of the stairs to greet her. I still do that, as a hello to her.
-Although I gave away the cat food, needles, and some other items, India had a kitty bed under the cellar stairs which I've left in place. Similarly, I kept cat treats in the hutch above my desk, and she knew they were there and would jump on the desk to paw at the hutch when she wanted one. Those cat treats will always be there regardless of whether there's a cat in the house or not.
-Unfortunately, India's last couple of years were not the highest quality for her. She slept quite a lot, missed the litter box so often that I had to put a second cat pan next to it, and threw up pretty regularly. When the cold weather came she would always sleep on my bed; this did not happen this fall/winter. I think looking back she did have some pain and discomfort, and knowing she will never again experience either is helpful to me.
-When I think about what I expected to happen when India died, as I stated before I knew I would feel upset. I dreaded her demise; hoped it would go easy. Well, the worst is over; it's happened, and now there is no more fear on my part about the inevitable day coming, since it's in the past.
-Finally, there is the fact that not long after India's death, I felt her presence close to me again. It was if her soul had wandered briefly then found me. She is my cat and always will be; only her physical form has departed. And that made me realize, when we leave this earth we take nothing with us, except love. As the Beatles said, Love is All You Need. I didn't understand the concept of keeping someone close in your own soul after they'd passed away until now and this awareness has changed my life for the better. When I die myself I know India will be with me again, as will all of the loved ones who went before me, and as I will wait for the loved ones I leave behind. I've basically built my adult life around the concept that material objects don't matter; that relationships are all that is important, and losing India affirms that.
Again, I hope these thoughts are helpful to people and they are given with best wishes and much appreciation for all here, who have helped to ease my pain tremendously. |
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