Sunday, February 1, 2009
My heart is broken...
...the loss is so painful. I'm not even sure what I want to say. Please be patient with me if I ramble.
As you are all aware, my beautiful Sheltie, GypsyLee, was diagnosed with T-cell Lymphoma in back in May, 2008. She had nasty sores on her snout but never displayed any negative signs or symptoms other than the blasted sores which would get better then flare up, then better--you get the picture. We recently did a regiment of chemo in hopes we could toss the disease into remission. She held her own and never displayed even one side effect throughout the course. The disease never seemed to abate but did not worsen.
Last weekend, my wonderful weekend with Rhonda and Liana, Gyspy had what we thought would be the final dose of medicine. This was supposed to determine whether we would obtain either fifty or one hundred per cent remission. She seemed to do well enough Saturday and Sunday, though she was tired. Saturday the sores looked beautiful like pink new baby skin and we felt so hopeful. At last, just maybe our little girl would be on the road to recovery!
Not to be...
By Monday, the lesions were back in full swing and by Tuesday, she had a horrible infection and refused to eat or drink. We rushed her to our Vet where she was given a shot of antibiotics and sent home with more. Wednesday, she became incontinent and was severely dehydrated even though we tried desperately to force feed her baby food and water.
She spent Wednesday night in the hospital receiving IV fluids and meds, and I left work to see her at noon on Thursday. She just lay there, her eyes glazed and her breathing labored. It tore my heart apart. I lay in the kennel cage with her and held her for hours. She never recovered. She did lift her head slightly which at that point I held in my hands, opened her beautiful, soft brown eyes, which appeared amazingly bright and clear and gazed into my eyes! I thought she'd awoken. I thought she was getting better, but she was saying goodbye. She passed in my arms on Thursday at 2:20pm on her own. She had just turned nine years old in December.
So my heart is broken...
I am in such a bad and painful place right now. The home I have always loved and cherished, the home I always felt so much comfort and happiness in is now an empty, depressing, and lonely place.
This is not the first time.
Nine and a half years ago, we lost our first Sheltie, Kazzy, to, believe it or not, lymphosarcoma at the age of eleven. Why do I mention this? For good reason. His passing along with my father's passing a few months prior in the year 2000 began my writing career. The pain so great, I had no way to vent my emotions. I just didn't know how I would ever survive these losses.
I finally sat down and began to journal my anger and sadness, my hurt and pain. Then I searched around for writing venues to try to keep my mind busy. I found The Writers Village University who offered F2K, a free six week writing course and joined it. We had to create a character who would introduce our own characterization to the class and post it. Guess who introduced me? Yes, Kazzy. Though I'd written in some capacity since the age of eleven. That is when I became serious about the craft. That is when I began my career and it was because of loss and pain that I picked the craft up and ran with it.
I thought it would be of interest to you all and helpful for me to vent and share my pain. Thank you for allowing me to ramble on.