(no subject)
Mar. 4th, 2005 05:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gwynI had to take the puss to the vet today. A while ago, she started this water drinking and peeing as an extreme sport phase, and it seemed to have only got worse lately rather than better. With her weight issues all her life, I figured it was diabetes. I called my sister before I left for the vet, but her phone was busy, which seemed like a sign that she wanted to be left alone -- her doctor's appointment was today. Last night she said rather shakily that she couldn't stand any better than before, and it was impossible to walk without assistance.
I was braced for the worst, and it is the worst. They said there's nothing they can treat, and it's time to do hospice. So I have to look into this. The insurance won't pay for home medical care, though, so I'm not sure if they will cover hospice care. I will need to go down soon, as will my dad. They say weeks, maybe months. But so far every step has played out worse on this thing than they said, so I am thinking weeks, and only a few of those.
Fortunately the puss was a real trouper, even though they took blood from her jugular and we had to put her upside-down in a contraption for them to draw urine from her bladder. The blood glucose is low, though, so it doesn't look like diabetes, for which I'm very thankful, because I don't know how I could be gone to San Diego so much in this near future and she would need injections -- the only person who can touch Emma is me, and even then she's pretty tough on me. I have numerous bite and scratch scars, pretty severe ones, to prove it.
I don't know what to say to my sister when I talk to her. Other than that I am coming down. I'm not really a comfort to her. Dad isn't either, really, though she loves him very much. He's like a big drunken bear, and it makes her jittery not being able to take care of him. And I wonder if it's wrong of me to not want to watch her die. I watched my mom die, a gruesome, horrible, terrified death, and I don't want to watch that again. But I feel obligated, I feel like everyone's expecting me to be there at the bitter end, whenever it comes. I don't have the courage.
I am glad that Emma will be okay. The poor vet got me at the worst time, I was so relieved that it wasn't diabetes, that I broke down and told her I just found out my sister was dying soon. And she said I don't have to worry, they'll call me, and nothing is life threatening and they'll figure out what's wrong with Emma and it will be okay to leave her alone. And then I came home and took out my wrath on Amazon.com. Sis_r sent me a Christmas present that I had to return, and a while later i got a gift certificate for the remaining amount from Amazon, which I lost in all the misery and confusion and general thick-headedness of the past few months. I wrote to them with the original order # and asked for it to be mailed to me again. Got a nice reply stating I would get it within 12-24 hours, which I didn't. Wrote again. Nice reply this time with apologies, but no certiificate.
So I wrote again and said, look, this is the last gift I will ever have from my sister. I can't ask her to deal with this because she's dying. Why is it so hard to give me this number again? Please let me have it because I don't have the emotional resources to handle this anymore, and I just want this one last tangible thing from my sister. I'm sure they'll think I'm making it up. I don't care. I just want the fucking certificate. I was just going to buy a skin for my iPod, for god's sake.
In the scheme of things, nothing really matters. But I'm obsessed by this stupid thing, because it's easier to deal with than trying to figure out how to call my dad and tell him.
I was braced for the worst, and it is the worst. They said there's nothing they can treat, and it's time to do hospice. So I have to look into this. The insurance won't pay for home medical care, though, so I'm not sure if they will cover hospice care. I will need to go down soon, as will my dad. They say weeks, maybe months. But so far every step has played out worse on this thing than they said, so I am thinking weeks, and only a few of those.
Fortunately the puss was a real trouper, even though they took blood from her jugular and we had to put her upside-down in a contraption for them to draw urine from her bladder. The blood glucose is low, though, so it doesn't look like diabetes, for which I'm very thankful, because I don't know how I could be gone to San Diego so much in this near future and she would need injections -- the only person who can touch Emma is me, and even then she's pretty tough on me. I have numerous bite and scratch scars, pretty severe ones, to prove it.
I don't know what to say to my sister when I talk to her. Other than that I am coming down. I'm not really a comfort to her. Dad isn't either, really, though she loves him very much. He's like a big drunken bear, and it makes her jittery not being able to take care of him. And I wonder if it's wrong of me to not want to watch her die. I watched my mom die, a gruesome, horrible, terrified death, and I don't want to watch that again. But I feel obligated, I feel like everyone's expecting me to be there at the bitter end, whenever it comes. I don't have the courage.
I am glad that Emma will be okay. The poor vet got me at the worst time, I was so relieved that it wasn't diabetes, that I broke down and told her I just found out my sister was dying soon. And she said I don't have to worry, they'll call me, and nothing is life threatening and they'll figure out what's wrong with Emma and it will be okay to leave her alone. And then I came home and took out my wrath on Amazon.com. Sis_r sent me a Christmas present that I had to return, and a while later i got a gift certificate for the remaining amount from Amazon, which I lost in all the misery and confusion and general thick-headedness of the past few months. I wrote to them with the original order # and asked for it to be mailed to me again. Got a nice reply stating I would get it within 12-24 hours, which I didn't. Wrote again. Nice reply this time with apologies, but no certiificate.
So I wrote again and said, look, this is the last gift I will ever have from my sister. I can't ask her to deal with this because she's dying. Why is it so hard to give me this number again? Please let me have it because I don't have the emotional resources to handle this anymore, and I just want this one last tangible thing from my sister. I'm sure they'll think I'm making it up. I don't care. I just want the fucking certificate. I was just going to buy a skin for my iPod, for god's sake.
In the scheme of things, nothing really matters. But I'm obsessed by this stupid thing, because it's easier to deal with than trying to figure out how to call my dad and tell him.
