Saying Goodbye To Our Sweet Kitty (August 2023)

(Written: August 2023)

Our Sick Kitty

Just as the vet predicted, our cat ate less and less due to her inoperable and progressing cancer. My husband tried many different foods, and some she would eat a tiny bit of. But she must have felt bad, and attributed it to the food, so inevitably she would stop eating each one. Even her treats, she wouldn’t eat anymore.

As she stopped eating, she became slower and slower. She spent more and more time sleeping on her favorite spot on the kitty condo right in front of the window. She stopped coming to greet us in the morning. The final and most obvious sign to my husband and I, was when she no longer lay in her favorite spot on the kitty condo at all, but instead lay in the dark closet. She had never laid in the closet ever before. I tried to make it comfortable for her, laying a bed and some blankets on the ground. My husband carried her over to her window spot throughout the day, where she would stay for awhile before ending up back in the closet.

I let my family know things were going down hill, and we’d probably have to make a difficult decision soon. My brother asked if she was still up for visitors, he wanted to see her again and say goodbye. She was still loving attention and pets, so he came to visit with her that evening. His visit meant a lot to me. It felt like he was honoring her and the place she holds in all our hearts. Pets are truly part of the family.

The day after she started spending almost all her time in the closet, I called to schedule a euthanasia appointment for the next day. I knew this day was coming, but still my voice broke and I started crying making the appointment. I didn’t want my sweet kitty to die, and here I was scheduling it. It felt wrong, and heartbreaking. We still held hope she’d start eating again, and I told the receptionist I might call and cancel later. She said they are very understanding when it comes to things like this.

The Appointment

Unfortunately, our sweet kitty did not start eating again and continued hiding in the closet. We let the kids know that we were bringing her to the vet, and that she wasn’t going to be coming home. The vet was going to help her die painlessly and peacefully. (They already knew she was sick). They had a chance to say goodbye, then I brought them over to my parent’s house.

When I got back, I took a hydroxyzine (my anxiety/panic medication), and my husband and I spent the remaining time before we had to leave with our kitty. He had set her back at her window seat and she was relaxing and enjoying our pets – her little rumbly and raspy purr going nonstop. My husband was fully present to the moment, sitting down after a petting session and crying on the couch. It’s terrible – but I was numbed out. He tried his best to pull me out and into the moment, asking me if I wanted one on one time with her. But I just couldn’t do it – I couldn’t say goodbye. I couldn’t go emotionally to where my husband was and be present for him or for this moment. I felt empty.

My husband put the quilt I made for our cats into the cat carrier and loaded our sweet kitty into it – it was time to go. As she sat in her carrier on the ride over in my lap, it reminded me of when we adopted her almost exactly 10 years ago. How excited we were (she was our first pet), and how heartbroken we were now. Our sweet kitty looked out the car window, and the gentle evening sunlight shown on her face. The drive over was through the woods, and it brought me peace to drive through that setting. It made me think of how she was going home, back to nature, like we all do. Still, I didn’t want to say goodbye and I felt sad for all the things she didn’t get to do (like explore the outdoors and lay in grass – she was an indoor only kitty once we adopted her). I wish I had found more time to spend with her, I’ve been so busy over these years raising the kids.

Getting The Vet’s Opinion

When we arrived at the Vet Clinic, we were immediately brought to a side room I’ve never noticed was there before. We got her out of her carrier and she laid on the exam table purring as we pet her. Our vet (who is the one who diagnosed and had been trying to alleviate the symptoms of my cat’s cancer) listened to how our sweet kitty wasn’t eating and how she was behaving at home. I felt so torn, I felt maybe we should bring her home. I expressed these feelings to the vet – but the vet reassured us, it was clear our sweet kitty put up a big fight to live, but she was exhausted. This was clear to me too, as she is normally up and walking around on the vet’s table, but today she was laying down only lifting her head some. She was purring though, enjoying the pets and attention. The vet said with her diagnoses and not eating, she was only going downhill from this point, and it was a “gift” to help her find peace.

The vet gave my husband and I time to discuss. We agreed, now was the right time. We thought about whether we should hold our sweet kitty for the process. But decided not to because, though she absolutely loved humans – she was a sit next to you on the couch kitty not a lap kitty.

We both pet her as the vet came in and started the process. She was laying down, sunlight was slanting through the one window in the room laying a beautiful golden light over her. She looked relaxed, peaceful. Through tears, I heard myself say “we love you”, and then she was gone.

The vet left the room and my husband and I crying hugged each other. It was so sad that she had been in that room with us, and she still was, but she was gone. She lay there just like herself, but never again would we see her little paws “make biscuits” in the air in enjoyment of a head scratch or hear her gruff little meow.

Unexpected Feelings

As difficult and sad as it was to say goodbye, I caught myself feeling something I wasn’t expecting to. I felt a peace, I recognized a beauty to the goodbye. I have not experienced death first hand before. I expected nothing but absolute dread and heartbreak at the vets that day. And it was. But there was a beauty to the love my husband and I shared for our kitty and the love she shared for us. That room at the vet’s office, those final moments with her, were full of that love. And I hope she felt it. Death is inevitable to all of us, but beautiful moments of connection between living souls isn’t. It made me reflect on those I love, and my own life.

This is a short poem I wrote in the car on the way home dedicated to my kitty:

I once knew a sinless soul,
She had whiskers 
and caramel toes.

My Sweet Kitty – Painted July 2023 by me in art class

July Update – Part 3 (2023)

(Written July 2023)

Good Friend Moved

It was hard saying goodbye to my good friend who lived a few doors down. My kid’s and I spent time with her and her children multiple times a week. So visiting her the day before she left, felt like a normal day together, but there was a sadness underneath.

They were headed to a hotel that evening, and catching a plane the next day. We sat on the wood edging around her garden, because all her furniture was sold or packed away, while our children chased each other around the yard and collected rocks to color. It seemed my 6 year old son felt the sadness mixed in with the ordinary, as he brought rocks over to me saying they were special because his friend had drawn on them. I collected them in my pocket.

As the time for them to leave approached, I let my kid’s know it was time for us to say goodbye. We walked out of her backyard, making our way back to our house. Her and I had already exchanged some gifts earlier in the week.I had given her a framed picture collage of our children together through the year, and she had given me a perennial flower for my yard to remember them by (we both love to garden). So I was surprised, when she said she had a card for me. She went inside to grab it, then we all said our goodbyes. Her and I exchanged a quick hug, I felt a lot of emotions, but externally I kept the appearance of a normal day. Our 4 children, on their own initiative, ended up giving each other one big group hug. Children have such a natural way with affection and expressing it. I took a quick photo of this group hug. They were all smiles. It was beautiful, but it hurt my heart.

After our final goodbyes, my children and I walked home. My daughter, being 4, didn’t seem to understand what “moving” meant. But my son, once we got home and stepped inside, began to cry. He wanted to know if maybe we’d see them again later that day or tomorrow. I gently reminded him they were going to the hotel now, and weren’t coming back to the house. We hugged, and I let him know it makes sense to feel sad when we say bye to a friend who’s moving. I told him I was sad too, and was going to miss them. I reassured him that we would keep in touch with our friends by talking on the phone and letters.

Once we were settled in the house, with the first free moment I had, I opened the card from my friend. It was full of kind words for my family and me – how sweet the children are, how thankful she was we met, and how she knew she’d found a “lifelong friend”. After this quick read through, I put the card away. It reminded me of heartfelt letters I’d written before, and the heartfelt words I could have written/said to her – but hadn’t.

Numb

The truth was I had felt mixed up and numb the days before she left, and especially the day she left (I spent most the day distracting myself with a puzzle). It was a mix of disappointment (she had originally planned to stay in the neighborhood), irrational hurt feelings, denial they were moving, and hidden underneath the lack of belief we were friends.

Well, I knew we were “friends”, but I guess deep down I assumed she was friends with me only because our children are friends. It doesn’t make a lot of sense that I would believe this. Her and I have a lot in common. We’d done the hard work of finding childfree time to grab brunch together. We’d talked in depth about our lives and feelings in person and over the phone. We were friends.

But deep down, I just never feel anyone likes ME. The attitude is, I don’t want to embarrassed myself by seeming too close, because I know the truth – this person doesn’t like me that much. I think these feelings might contribute to why I sort of numbed out when she left. It’s like all my true feelings of sadness and friendship, get unconsciously blocked, by this belief that “she doesn’t really feel close to me”. My true feelings end up being “uncomfortable” to feel, and certainly too “uncomfortable”/”embarrassing” to express.

Overall, I feel disappointed and a bit frustrated with my struggle to be vulnerable with people. I know vulnerability is what builds close relationships. Hopefully, this observation of my default mode, will allow me to make healthy changes – to practice finding and connecting to my true feeling and practice express them.

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Counseling (EMDR) – Finally

My current counsellor seems to be a wonderful match. I feel understood, and her words and guidance get me thinking. She challenges me.

I have finally, after over a year of planning to (it’s a long story), started EMDR. It has been going well. I cry a lot during EMDR, much more so than in regular counseling. It seems to open the doors to my emotional mind, so my deepest emotions are able to flow right before me. This allows my “observing”/”thinking” mind to see what’s actually within me.

It sounds super simple, but direct access to my emotional mind/body is a challenge to me. On my own I tend to get stuck in an “intellectualizing” mode – and don’t really FEEL, unless it’s “rational”. I used to pride myself on this, but now it frustrates me. How can I care for myself, if I can’t even connect with myself? And certainly, probably most of me, is not rational.

I am not left alone with these uncovered emotions after my sessions either. To my surprise my “thinking” brain has been mostly accepting and trying to processing these uncovered emotions. I am thankful for this! It isn’t the norm for my “thinking” mind to validate and give good faith energy to trying to understand and help my emotional self. The early signs of teamwork between my thinking side and emotional side are appearing. Maybe that is the direction I am headed – living a more unified inner life.

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Signs Of Change In Interactions With Others

Recently a friend (not the one who moved) reached out to meet up with our kids. I knew my daughter would love to go, and it had been awhile since my friend and I met up. The only problem was, I had already told myself that morning that needed to take the day slow. I was noticing physical symptoms from my anxiety. I had planned to stick around the house and catch up on chores and relax.

Old me, would just go. I’d worry that saying no may hurt her feelings (especially since it’d been awhile since we talked or met up), and I’d feel guilty I made my daughter miss out on a fun outing with friends. I’d discount my needs, or think it displayed strength/selflessness to push through them.

But new me, opened up with this friend about my son’s upcoming procedure, my cat’s health, and my level of anxiety right now. It was a difficult text for me to write up and send. It left me feeling open to being judged as “dramatic”. I felt vulnerable. But, honesty just felt like the healthiest path to take – so after a lot of thinking and rethinking I sent the text. I tried to reassure myself that if she judged me that would simply be unkindness on her part.

Of course, her response was all kindness. She actually ended up being a huge support for me in those weeks leading up to my son’s procedure. She check in with me, and said she was praying for us. She brought by blessed bread for my son, and gave me a hug.

That early morning at the hospital, just as we walked through the doors, a text from her came through. She shared a long personal prayer for everything to go well. It meant so much to me to have her support. I found that opening up and being honest, led not to rejection and judgement, but love and support.

This all happened shortly after my friend from down the street moved. So maybe I am learning to adventure more into vulnerability, and maybe I will find that though it’s scary, it’s also rewarding. Which will maybe make it less intimidating….someday.

July Update – Part 2 (2023)

This is part 2, but all of these events are from early to mid July before my son’s procedure. I just wanted to share the good news first.

anxiety/panic

Since getting the stomach flu back in February, I have noticed my fear of getting sick has gradually been increasing – specifically my fear of getting sick in a public or social situation. (The fear of others “seeing me like that” seems to loom large over the whole experience, and be a large part of the fuel for it.) The early signs I found odd, but not yet too concerning, were the flashes of disturbing imagery of me getting very sick that started happening when I was in social situations. They caught me off guard, and got my heart going a little, but my mind was able to pretty quickly make a “game plan” (if you do start feeling very ill go to the restroom) and then shift its focus back to the present moment. In other words, the “jump scare” feelings these images produced in my body weren’t too intense and faded very quickly.

However, as the weeks passed, I felt the “fear” more and more in my body. Looking back, I see that my mind was starting to hyper focus on this concern of “getting ill” in a social situation. This meant my mind was starting to observe, and send to my conscious awareness, an alarm bell (“I might be getting sick!”) for every stomach rumble, every gas pain, etc. The anxiety these messages create then create their own unease in the digestive system which sets off even more alarm bells (“I’m definitely about to get sick!”).

My mind tries to calm this growing panic, by awareness that these thoughts and feelings are most likely “anxiety” about getting ill not real signs of illness. Usually my mind is able to stop these feelings and thoughts from building, though it requires a lot of back and forth throughout the event as the feelings rise and ebb then rise again based on new bodily sensations.

However, sometimes there can be a sort of runway growth of these panic thoughts and feelings. My thoughts get more and more racy, I experience more and more “concerning” physical sensations (hot flashes, lightheadedness, nausea, a feeling of not getting enough oxygen), which makes my thoughts get more and more panicky, leading to a further escalation in the physical sensations or the level of discomfort I have with them.

In these cases even though my rational mind knows, “this is most likely panic and anxiety”, my body is unmoved by these rational thoughts. My rational self feels frustrated with this lack of control, and also uneasy because it knows that my body flying into such a turned up state can make me become ill. In a way the rational mind and the body urge me towards the same course of actions (find a restroom or go home) to deal with this “imminent illness”. However, the rational mind places blame on the body/anxiety vs. a true illness.

Over the last couple months, I have not been having frequent panic attacks or getting ill from anxiety/panic. I have been experiencing frequent fear about having them and the mental and bodily tension that fear brings. (Very very rarely in my life have I actually experience the physical outcomes of vomiting, or urgently needing to use the restroom from anxiety. Though of course I do sometimes actually have a stomach bug or eat something off, and those experiences seem to increase my fear of “what if this happened in a social setting”).

I have been trying to ensure these feelings and thoughts don’t gain momentum, especially fearful that if I do have a panic attack or get ill from anxiety that will add more fuel to this fire. These fears, the sensations they bring, and the efforts to calm them make everyday activities feel different, unsettling, and draining.

Research & Attempts

As this whole struggle with anxiety/panic returned to my life, I was mindful about how I responded to it. I read that it is best to continue living life as normal, that avoidance reinforces to your mind and body that those anxious thoughts and feelings are appropriate. So I continued doing activities with my Mom friends and their children, and I continued leaving the house daily with my children on errands and fun outings. I also talked to my counselor and she taught me about the vagus nerve (which helps calm your body down).

However, to my surprise and frustration, the tense feelings and images continued to occur. And not only did they continue, they began to be set off by more and more situations (eating around my husband and kids, the grocery store, even while shopping alone). My panic issues had never been so widespread before. In high school they were confined to eating around people in confided settings (a restaurant), or being in confided setting with people (a car). Life in general, outside of these situations, felt unaffected. This new spread, despite my best efforts, was very concerning me.

I was reaching a point where I felt I was no longer enjoying many of my daily activities because I felt so tense and fearful if it involved being outside of the house. I would leave the situation as if I had just been in some sort of battle, as opposed to having just gone on a fun zoo trip with the kids. And even though each event “went fine”, as I didn’t go home earlier or have to retreat to the bathroom – my body wasn’t seeming to get the messages. The next time I did the same activity, my body would again respond with heightened tension (making me feel unwell) and I had to try to reassure myself the feelings of being unwell were anxiety not illness. I had to hope this was enough to get my body to calm down. This constant struggle was draining me, and getting me down.

As these symptoms began being set off by more situations, I began experiencing them daily. Leaving the house itself caused tension and fear. I reached a point where I no longer was enjoying many of my daily activities – because I felt so tense and fearful while doing them, had to do so much mental work continuously reassuring myself the sensations I was experiencing were anxiety not illness, and had to hope my reassurance would be enough. I would leave the situation drained of energy and worn out as if I had just been in some sort of battle, as opposed to having just gone on a fun zoo trip with the kids. And even though each event “went fine”, as I didn’t go home early or have to retreat to the bathroom, my body wasn’t seeming to learn a new calm from the sucesses. The next time I did the same activity, my body would again respond with heightened tension.

Getting help – A New/Old Medicine

I am pretty resistant towards medication, probably due to it being looked down upon in my family of origin (something I am trying to move past), my belief that I can work through things with counseling and reflection, and my fear of it altering me/my brain. However, considering the direction everything was moving, I felt it was best to schedule an appointment with my doctor to discuss medication options.

Since Lexapro (Escitalopram) helped me tremendously with my anxiety 2 years ago, I assumed it would be my path again. However, going back on Lexapro didn’t feel quite right to me – my mood issues (which is why I was prescribed Lexapro originally) were so much improved, Lexapro had side effects that bothered me (emotional numbing, weight gain, etc.), and I worried it would effect my counseling which was going so well.

As I thought it all over in the days before the appointment, I remembered the medicine I took back in high school for my panic issues. It was called Hydroxyzine, and though it made me incredibly drowsy, it had helped significantly. I also knew Hydroxyzine (as opposed to Lexapro) was a take as needed medicine, which was something I preferred.

At my appointment, I discussed my symptoms with the doctor and my experiences with Lexapro and Hydroxyzine. She agreed Hydroxyzine would be a great first step. She also shared that if it didn’t help there was another anti-anxiety I could try called Buspar. It was encouraging to hear I had options I could try before going back to Lexapro.

(To be clear, I am by no means anti-Lexapro. It helped me tremendously through a very tough time for me emotionally. I am grateful for it. It brings me a sense of security knowing that if I fall back into such a dark mental space and need help it exists. I would definitely go on it again if I felt I needed it.)

July Update – Part 1 (2023)

wonderful news about my son

The Day Before & Getting Ready

My son’s procedure was in late July. As I shared in my June update, the day before his procedure he was only allowed to have clear liquids.I was concerned about how his blood sugar would do on this diet. Thankfully, the day went smoothly.

We woke up before sunrise the next morning to head to the hospital. My son seemed tired, but acted and looked like his normal self. I gave him some honey and gatorade before the cut off time of “no food or water” before the procedure. I then took a hydroxyzine pill (I’ll add more about this new medicine in part 2), which helps me not feel my anxiety in my body so intensely. It helps me avoid becoming overwhelmed by my anxiety/panic. I wanted to be fully present for my son.

On the way to the hospital my son started complaining that his belly hurt. It seemed to get worse and worse as we made the 30 or so minute drive. This made me very nervous, as nausea is one of the symptoms of him having low sugar. Immediately after arriving at the hospital and parking our car, my son threw up. He seemed to feel much better after this, and said he was “excited” to see the hospital.

We checked him in, and asked the nurses to check his sugar levels when we got inside. All was well. The nausea was likely just an upset belly from going so long without food, and likely some nerves mixed in with that excitement. (As odd as it might sound, it didn’t surprise me to hear he was excited. My son loves new experiences and seeing new places, and the hospital seemed to count as an “adventure” to him. I’m thankful he had that attitude about the day.)

Rather quickly we were led to the pre-operative waiting room. As we sat there waiting for the doctor to be ready for him, I felt such feelings of doom. My son has never been under anesthesia before, and I worried he’d have a major reaction to it. I often listen to my gut feelings and intuitions, so it was a challenge for me to recognize “things are okay”.

My son was in good spirits, and did enjoy seeing all the activity and equipment of the hospital. We ended up having to wait close to an hour, so my husband found an online chess game for him to play. He doesn’t quite know how to play chess yet, only the kings were left chasing each other around the board, but it kept him busy. When the nurses came to bring him back for his procedure, we gave him big hugs and walked down the hall with him as far as we could. He was so small going through the big doors.

The Waiting Room & Recovery

In the waiting room, I tried to read an ebook on my phone to pass the time. However, I could focus on nothing else but the clock and the energy of the hospital. At one point a code was announced over the loud speaker, and repeated multiple times. My anxiety increased as I wondered was that some sort of emergency code and was it for my son.

Thankfully, the procedure only took around 20 minutes. His doctor informed us everything went well, and that a nurse would bring us to him, so when he woke up we’d be there. I felt so much better when I was able to see him again, and all my tension eased as he started waking up and was quickly back to his social self (telling the nurse how many and what types of Pokemon cards were waiting for him at home).

He was super hungry when he got home. We’d been instructed to keep food simple for the rest of the day, so I made him some rice with chicken broth. He opened his Pokemon cards, and got 2 cards he’d been “looking for”. He was so excited, and said it was a lucky day. He relaxed the rest of the evening, and was back up on his feet and active the next day.

Waiting For Results

Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long at all to find out the results from everything. The day after the procedure, while the kids and I were out on a nature/playground walk enjoying the cool summer day, I received the call from the doctor. He said nothing abnormal was found! The doctor said we do not need any follow up appointments, and the abnormalities we’ve noticed about his system (which cause him no pain, and he’s growing well) are just his norm. What a relief! Now we can shift to focusing on this upcoming school year with excitement. We went out for ice cream as a family later that afternoon to celebrate.

Career? More Education?

Since having my son, 6 years ago, I’ve been a stay at home mom. My daughter is 4, and starts Kindergarten not this autumn, but next. When both my children are in school, I would like to work. However, I would prefer a job which would allow me to be home with my children during their summer’s off (especially while they are young). One of my stay at home Mom friends shared her plans to start taking community college classes this fall. How wise!

Inspired by my friend, I enrolled in a community college class. I enrolled in only one class this semester to see how well I’m able to balance school work with being a mother. I’m hoping, by the time my daughter starts kindergarten, I will be close to completing the Early Childhood Education certificate. I’m thinking I may work as a Preschool Teacher.

This career path isn’t completely out of left field for me. I first decided in middle school I wanted to be a stay at home mom. When I graduated high school, I was expected to, and I went to college. I briefly considered becoming a high school teacher, but after taking one teaching class decided elementary school was the age group for me. I was a very unhappy and impractical young adult, so I majored in Philosophy and Psychology. Probably in some sort of misguided effort to “figure out” life haha. It didn’t work, and left me after college with no straight-forward job path (unlike my computer science major boyfriend).

After graduating college together, my boyfriend and I moved straight to an apartment. It was about about 4 hours from my hometown and a little over an hour from his. We got engaged a few months later, and then married a year after graduating college. I worked retail for a year while we lived in our apartment. Then we bought a home and moved to my hometown. I had my first baby shortly after moving. That was all in the 3 years after college.

My career path is still very much a work in progress, but I do feel proud I’m taking steps to hopefully end up in a good fit for me and my family.