A Time for Grace

http://members.aol.com/guyh7/hospice.htm

http://www.pethospice.org/HOSPICE%20FRAME.htm

"Curing is easy, but not curing is so hard, an impotence in the soul."

Sean Spence

And so, she lies beside me, her breathing a little laboured, but mainly from the nasal issue, not from fluid in the lungs. A while ago I tried some lightly seared beefsteak and she took a few bites - you could see the interest - but just maybe three pieces. I read over and over that cachexia takes many cancer patients - and somehow, this seems avoidable to me. But I can't get her to eat, and Frances says not to force the issue, not to ram Nutrical down her throat or stress her incessantly. I'm asking myself, does she want to go? I think not, and yet...the not eating. Is the body trying to not "feed' the *%@^$* tumour?

Yesterday she did lamb and babyfood, today almost nothing. I talk on the phone, I wash dishes and vaccuum and check in on everyone - Danny, cats, even the reptiles can probably feel my angst - but Lila is never off my mind. She gets up to reposition herself and seems to have a mild panic attack; when I lie down on her bed beside her, her brave little heart is just pounding. I lie there holding her for some time, breathing love into her on every possible level. The heart pounding slows down and she sleeps again. I go back to researching hospice care.

Grace hovers nearby, the house is filled with it.

A double rainbow appears over the forest out back, and I decide to grab a shot.

Thursday

This morning I woke up to some unusal gifts of grace and strength, things I strung together from the oddest places, unexpected bits of courage as our time is so clearly winding down and Lila cannot be asked to stay for very much longer at all now. I mean we may say goodbye tonight. It is raining AGAIN and although I'm as sure as one can be that theTramadol is keeping ehr out of pain, she is weak and inappetant and her eyes today are less alert and penetrating and more clouded and resigned.

I called Frances (who is now pretty close to sainthood in my view) to come and just look at Bo, assess her, see what we can/should do now.

Contrary to my remarks yesterday about wanting company I seem to be sliding into a phase of just wanting to be with Dan, Lila and Alex. I am barely able to work and sleeping about 3 hours a night less than I need, so I feel rundpown and mentally fatigued. But my heart is strong. The panic is more or less over and I am blessedly moving into a place of great strength. I was thinking this morning, out walking with Dan, how tough it's been to lose the three beings I've loved most in my life all within four years(and my little Bubby-Howe, who died from lymphoma last Xmas) . But at least with Bo, she has had a long (relatively long) life, she's had such joy and fun and total adoration from me. I've saved her over and over, from her severe panic when she wa a puppy, to her ruptured cruciates at 3, then heart disease, spondylosis, renal disease and lastly, this wretched cancer. Part of this has to be related to her purebred parent - we know one was a purebred and the sire was likely a Border Collie - some may be related to her nervousness, which both Eddie and I feel predisposes dogs to certian issues - and some may, tragically, be related to living in a part of th world where herbicides are normal and everyone's outdoor decks are laden with arsenic. I've done everything I can possibly do to prevent cancers, and we've had three in two years. I admit I do fear for my DanDan, and for myself and all the cats as well. We are to have the deck repalced in a week or two so that at least is something. But with at least 50% of all dogs over the age fo 10 getting cancer, I guess its not easy to pinpoint it so clearly. Lila's tumour probably originated in the spleen, and she has some sort of nasal discharge as well - both of those were true for luke as well. Coincidence? That seems unlikely to me, but anything is possible.

On another note; Luke's death almost killed me as well, the suddenness and shock, the pain of him being ripped away from me like that. But the ongoing grace is, I am a bit of a veteran with this now, and I know a few things I didn't before. I know to pace myself and take some downtime and balance solitude with company, rest with work, indoors with out. I know not to punish myself for being able to laugh at a funny movie or be silly online with a friend - denial, during grief, is a goood thing. Luke always gave me so much strength, and it appears to be ongoing, another part of his legacy. I always expected he would still be here when Bo died, I mean he would only have been ten this August! and he would be my rock when she did. Instead, he paved the way for me to reach inside myself and see how much I could survive. We still feel the Babe close by and I believe he is close to Lila now.
But grief is very hard work.


Danny has more strength than I often credit him with - he's such a happy little ray of sunshine, and his special genius(I believe every dog has one) is LOVE, so I can overlook the fact that he's a young man now too and he's strong for me in his own way. The ability to make me laugh - I mean really crack up - at a time like this is no small talent. But gazing at him, whether hes' running like the wind in the fields out back, curled up on the sofa, fills my eyes with such love that it soon spreads all through my being and I feel like I'm aglow with it.

Or as I say to Aunti Donna, much to her chagrin - he just keeps on getting cuter.
When Dan was a puppy it seemed he was looking at me all the time - I was so sad when he first came here - and he's just sort of, metaphorically yell "BUT I LOVE YOU!!" and how bad can it all be when you have that?

Aw - we take strength and courage where we can. This morning I woke up to lila seeming brighter than in previous days, probably the higher dose of Tramadol. But as the day has gone on she's refused scrambled eggs with cheese, baby food, catfood, warmed up chicken pot pie, milk. She looks interested and then says no way. I feel from her a resignation, a sadness, not anguish, but then I couldnt let her get there. Although we are keeping her reasonably comfortable I do feel her spirits are low.

Anyway I was reading a local paper and came across the words "recovery and celebration" and I just about fell over - because this is what we will need to focus on soon - recovering from this loss, and celebrating what we had and STILL HAVE...I always promised my Bo I'd be ok after she went, and hard as that is, of course I will be.

Frances just called and is on her way over so I'd best get moving. It's good to be able to talk here, just pour it out. I'll be back, no doubt, in a little bit.

Shorty, you're my Angel

A silly video but a really special song to Lil and me.



http://youtube.com/watch?v=sjQWo6ICHLc

A Few Blessed Hours

Not many people understand how grief affects me. It seems my circle of friends is pretty much comprised of other loners who like to get together twice a month and commune with like minded souls - drink, dance, talk - circle - you know, a sort of thinktank /party, between eccentric individualists who love the *idea* of community and other people, but in actuality, struggle with the reality of dealing with the hassle it brings.

Hence the term "DogTribe" - we love our dogs, we relate to our dogs, and we grudgingly admit to wanting human company from time to time as well. most of us have learned that it's largely a matter of quantity - too much human-time we go crazy...too little...we go crazy.
Moderation and balance once again? But dogs are always this safe haven, this lovely sense of company at the same time one can revel in solitude.

Yet amongst this group even I am somewhat odd, I seem always a little different somehow. I don't know whether to feel really weird or a little special. :) Hey - I can live with either! I just want more human company when I am down like this then I usually do.

But..many say they would prefer to be alone right now, at a time like this - whereas me? I would prefer to have company now, and be alone with it later, once the hurt becomes more manageable. Oh well - different strokes, I guess...

I wan people around me all the time right now, or so I think - but in truth, this first hour of solitude I have here is more than welcome. It could just be that I'm so tired and living in such an altered state at the moment that I can't honestly tell you what I want or need. I would say that having my friends coming and going is what's keeping me "ok" - but right this second, I have to admit that the solitude, despite all thats going on, is one huge breath of release, and the first thing I wanted to do was write a bit.

I can't accurately fill in the last few days, because we are so perilously close to the end and I am so utterly altered from my usual self and routines, that it's all a blur and that, I assure you, is neither cop-out nor exaggeration. Jaye was here, a lot, Lila was up and down, Alex constantly back and forth, many calls, much panic, some sublime hours of sleep and rest and togetherness when for a little bit, all almost seemed like it was ok again.


This is my babygirl and best friend, and what's a bloody week compared to what she is and what she's given me? Why, really, should I expedite this process to suit what others want from me or think would be best?

I sit here at times and I wonder why our entire society is in such a massive denial of death.

Then, I have to face yet another one and i think, ok - so THAT'S why; it's just too damn painful to deal with.
Whoever said denial was a bad thing was some sort of psychiatric sadist. Sure does me a world of good, in moderate doses.

So ok, enough abstraction. What's going on? Well ... in between the rounds of care-helpers who have been here since Sunday, and the talking, the afternoon naps, nightly vigils, the research, the support-seeking ( call me weak, I don't know what to do anymore) and the worry about Daniel, I have the following to report:

1) Lil is still here. She is neither suffering greatly (give me some credit!) nor is she entirely comfortable. Given the situation she is in a pretty-good zone, but it is very tenuous, and I am watching all the time. She eats, but little - goes out on her own, drinks a lot, sleeps well, has some difficulty breathing at times, and wants me close 24/7. Lights are on like she is 5 years old but her poor little body breaking down anyway... Sound familiar, anyone??


2) I have called Frances Dugan twice now saying - ok, you have to come NOW, only to change my mind, after Lila rallied. This is difficult, but we would prfer to do hospice rather than euthanasia if possible. She has bad stretches and good ones, and I'm basically montioring how long they are, so that when the bad ones overtake the good I can make the final decision.

3) Lila has peaceful nights, she is on a lot of Tramadol, and she sleeps well - has rough mornings, but still walks out to pee, still eats (mainly babyfood now) and is still clear as a bell in terms of consciousness. She still glares imperiously at dan when he gets in her face. She still zones out blissfully when I massage her. She is still here, but - very close, and I feel that more and more as time passes.

Today was a rough morning and I actually called the Crematorium to see what we would need to do next. I doubled Lila's tramadol and she does seem better, but it's raining here and she always has had bad days when it rains.

Time is this bizarre tunnel that you look through backwards, and 13 years is like a huge lifetime back, but still only a few minutes.
No matter how much this hurts, and it is GODDAMN TERRIBLE, sorry for my language! it's still sacred time - passing from this life to the next, changing form, finalizing, letting go/affirming love. I am thinking so much about the passages of life that we try to avoid in a society that has lost its sacred centres. We just brush over death and we vilify anyone who needs to spend some time with their losses, calling prolonged grief "wallowing" or even worse, "weakness". I just thikn thats so cruel! On my groups I've met so many other people who suffered like this over a dog, it's comforting to know I am not alone.

I won't hurry this, it is something precious and sacred despite its pain and difficulty. I wont let her suffer but neither will I expedite her passing and deny us one moment of togetherness.

But please - say a prayer for young Daniel - he is really wondeirng about it all, and why being cute, adorable and funny doesn't make Lila get up and play anymore.

It's raining and I've been up since five. Will try to sleep a bit and stay in touch.
Love is all that really counts, and dogs are so good at telling us this.

Thanks for reading my ramblings and not judging me - this is so brutally honest even I question my sanity sharing it - but, I trust this mutual experience, in my tribe. My fellow dog people all know this journey, so I wont feel overly judged.

In fact - I won't feel judged at all.
Cat

Prayer

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ih3aAx-S5xg&feature=related

Let your arms enfold us
Through the dark of night
Will your angels hold us
Till we see the light

Hush, lay down your troubled mind
The day has vanished and left us behind
And the wind, whispering soft lullabies
Will soothe, so close your weary eyes
Let your arms enfold us
Through the dark of night
Will your angels hold us
Till we see the light

Sleep, angels will watch over you
And soon beautiful dreams will come true
Can you feel spirits embracing your soul
So dream while secrets of darkness unfold

Angel from Heaven
You came to me at the bleakest time I had then experienced
You came on a Full Moon of Scorpio with your face full of stars
and you saved me.
Angel from Heaven
you showed me where I needed to heal, how much I could love, and what a world of learning there was for me to gain.
You showed me laughter, sweetness, innocence and the holiness of the Little Way.
Before you I could have been any other human adrift in a sea of unawareness, of ego, believing I knew it all and could be God without ever even being truly good. And even since you have been here I am lost and flailing, torn between so many complexities and veering away from the course all the time. Thank God/dess I have you to bring me back every time.

And all these Moon and Sun tides you walked with me, laughed with me, held me in your noble heart and open gaze when I was pained, lost and tired. All these years you never wavered and you kept me strong.
All these years you have been my life- like earth, air, fire and water. All these years the Spirit in you kept the Spirit in me strong.
You showed me where Soul lives, how love burns through the dross of human failing, how strong I could be and how far I could go.
Angel from Heaven
I am deep in pain for your passing now. I am lost and afraid and I want you to stay. But if this is now the time we all must face, I will carry this pain forward along with the joy, the love and the meaning you have brought to my life.
Angel from Heaven. go with all my love, deeper than the deepest ocean, wider than the sky - go to the Clear Light of the Heaven you came from and know that I am grateful every day for you .
Know above all that nothing is ever lost or forgotten.

Lila, you're my angel, you're my darling.Now and forever. I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

Friday

Friday morning and yesterday turned out to be a good day. Frances is so wonderful. She got Leopold and Evita back here by about 1 pm and then we had a long talk about Lila. Frances will take over Lil's care now that Eddie is away, and she's just ten minutes down the road. It seems somehow fitting that at a time when Lila is passing over, and I am also returning to my centre by going back to my herbal and TTouch work as well as nutrition, that Lila will have this wonderful female vet. It seems part of a tide turning that is bittersweet - bitter because I had wanted Eddie to be the one to help us deal with this, but sweet because we have Frances. Bitter because Lila is leaving, but sweet because of all she has given to me and how much she is loved. It's always seemed to me in life that one thing happened tragically or painfully and somehow something new and good grew from it. Probably sounds hopelessly New Agey and I would never want too diminish another person's pain by glossing it over with that sort of thing. It often takes years before the larger picture can be seen. But there is no downside to having had Lila in my life. Not even the pain of losing her. It's part of the deal. All that joy, now this pain.
As CS Lewis famously said - that's the deal.

You know the saying "there's one best dog in the world, and everybody's got her"....well, in my work with dogs I am blessed to see so many "best dogs in the world", I could only wish every dog had this sort of love and care from a person. tic was talking on the radio show last week - which was great, Donna and Alex did a fantastic job dodging the difficult questions and keeping it light - about dogs in Cuba, the struggle of their lives, and how painful it was for him and his partner to witness. I can't let myself forget that Lila has had an extraoridnary life - the best food, vet care, pride of place in my heart and home, inspiration for my work - as I've said before she leaves a huge legacy. It still boggles my mind that her heart disease was diagnosed EIGHT years ago - she would never have lived this long without careful dietary management and religious administration of supplements. We were so blessed to have caught it early. I've loved this little girl like a daughter and a best friend in one, and I always will.

I do hate talking about her in the past tense, I catch myself doing that and it's nasty. I suppose that's the heart trying to prepare itself. But she is very much here right now. And yesterday although challenging for me -mainly fatigue - was a good Lila day.

I think after waiting all these years to get into the catfood, she is not gonna let go now she's actually allowed to have some.

Yesterday she was quite animated in the morning, with all the hubbub around here, then settled in for a quiet afternoon, but ate reasonaby well. I'm sticking with small bits here and there, she can't seem to cope with a regular sized meal at all. because she has a certain carte blanche right now doesn't mean I'm going to hasten her demise with sugar and so on...she gets home made gluten free cookies, scrambled eggs, bits of cheese, and assorted cooked meats. Yesterday was turkey which she adores. I'd like to try adding a premium food, maybe Merricks with something added to bolster fat, maybe a little stock? NOt worrying about nutrient balance means of course I'm thinking short term. I'm emphasizing iron, copper, zinc, selenium, fat and protein. But this diet is very low in Vitamin D, iodine and calcium to name what pops up first. The nutritionist in me won't let go. But first and foremost I need her to eat.

Thought for today: Lila has had the best of everything, all her life, including my time energy commitment and love. How many dogs, looking at the world overall, come close to this? How many people? The pain I will carry is her continued presence, and as we all know, eventually that pain will turn to loving memories and gratitude. It takes a long while with me, but we will get there.

I wanted to say that last night, after she saw me gathering my things to go up to bed, Lila decided she could navigate the 14 steps up to the bedroom with me, and so I let her do it. I won't be doing that again. I believe it caused her to hyperventilate which she did for some time after getting into bed, due to difficulty getting adequate oxygen. Now her anemia is corrected I think she is getting a reprieve here even if feeding so much iron is contraindicated in longterm cancer management it is definitely needed here. And she feels better for having this corrrected.... I was keeping levels right to the guidelines because that is standard practise for cancer, longterm. But she was a little low in hemaglobin so I've let her have all the heart and beef muscle she wants. I'm sure that's helped. But she CANNOT exert in the slightest, so tonight when Alex joins us here I will have him move the bed downstairs. It's too painful for me to sleep separate from her right now.

On the group I leanred that several others are facing loss right now, or at least the struggle with cancer we have here. My heart especially goes out to my client and friend Lori with her 12 yr old GR Molly. We spoke yesterday as Molly was having surgery - it has turned out to be lymphoma and and likely NOT HSA, which gves them some more time. And last month my friend Rhonda, who has Luke's brothers Scarr and Hudson, lost her beloved RR Una to bladder cancer. Although I would wish these sad events had not happened, there is a solidarity amongst those of us who love our dogs so so much and must "stand in the place of pain" as John O'Donohue calls it. We can at least feel less alone in a world that diminishes the love of and importance of a dog to the human heart.
Many people can lose a dog and feel sad a moment or two, but then move on.
Many people would euthanize an old dog who had no chance of life and was basiclly waiting to die.
Many would - do - think we are crazy when we give our last drop of energy and- literally- last dime to care for a canine friend in need.

Yep, many if not most. But then, there's me - Donna...Lori...Rhonda...Ellyn...and the rest of the TPC group. I'm so deeply grateful for them all.

I'm off for more coffee and to see what my girl might like to eat this morning.