Well, my friends, the news is not good. Tasha’s had two bad days in a row. I’m not sure where to start, except that it’s anxiety, weakness, restlessness. She starts moving and can’t stop or be still, bumps into things and keeps pressing against them. Walking along a wall, she keeps bumping up against it. She goes around in circles, weaving, wobbling, falling, all the time getting more anxious. If I try to stop her, hold her down, pet her, she’s as likely to become more frantic as more calm. She walks better than she did a few months ago, until she meets an obstacle or gets tired and either sits or topples over. And the trouble thing is that obstacles don’t always stop her. Sometimes she tries to keep going against walls, into corners, into spaces too small for her to pass, and she keeps at it until she’s rescued.
She’s resting now in the living room, and I’m getting up every few minutes to check on her. Praying that she doesn’t wake up and start banging around. Her eyes are open, but being blind, this doesn’t mean she’s not asleep … I’m not sure. I gave her a quarter of a 5mg Valium several hours ago. It helped a lot, but her frantic behavior has come and gone a couple of times since then.
She’s still taking her fluids fine and eating well. Her last labs were OK, and her last exam on Friday was good. But her mental problems – I’m just today facing that’s what this is – are getting worse daily. I guess it’s senility.
I’m waiting until late evening to give her some Arsenicum Album, which will help her sleep through the night, because the vet says not to wake her once she takes that. It’s not good to disrupt her sleep. I have valium in case of emergency.
I have to start looking at whether this disorientation, being lost to her surroundings and to my efforts to comfort her, are causing Tasha to suffer. When she’s calm, I think she knows it’s her old buddy Kyle that’s holding her. When she’s not, I’m not so sure. Her personality has changed so much lately, become more distant. She doesn’t seem to recognize us very much. In a sense, I wonder if she’s entirely still with us in this world.
My promise to Tasha was to stand with her through old age, keep her comfortable, love her no matter what. I don’t think she’s in physical pain, and none of her treatments are causing her discomfort. At this point, I wouldn’t allow surgery or any sickening drugs, nor would we resuscitate. I believe she would like a cookie and a good long hug. But if I whistled and she heard it, she could not gather the will to come down the hall to me. I think is more than confusion of blindness. If her little spirit is already heading for the bridge, God help me not to hold her here too long.
I’m not making a decision tonight, and please God not in the next few days. Hopefully, she will see Dr. Childs – the Chinese Medicine vet – on Friday afternoon, and get a bath at her favorite place on Saturday. But unless something happens to turn the tide, it won’t be very long.
This is unrelenting heartbreak, and when the big one comes, I can’t say how much will be left of my heart.
Metaphor 