April Come She Will

Last day of March yesterday and it snowed. SNOWED! This after a solid month of rain. That’s how the month felt to me anyway.

Yesterday was also the one week mark since my good boy Rocco’s last day. I got a condolence card from the wonderful mobile vet, Dr. Jo, who gently saw my furry fella out.

Coco and I stuck close to each other all day. I passed over leaving the house, no Y time, because she and I needed to spend a large dose of quality, healing time together. I cleaned, tidied and continued with the reorganization of Rocco’s old room – my closet – while Coco supervised.

It was a somber but productive day.

Handsome TAB and sweet Coco

Rocco the Warrior Prince

Our princess has lost her mondo reluctance to come into the bedroom. She knows her rival is no longer in residence and our bed is her territory once more.

Here’s something that’s been pricking my brain over the past week – I’m now responsible for two deaths – The Amazing Bob’s and Rocco’s.

I was TAB’s health care proxy. It was my job to make his wishes known and make the hard decisions. My man had acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS). The good docs, if I’m remembering accurately, felt he’d never ever breath on his own again AND, even with a 24/7 breathing tube down his throat, he could easily croak anyway (which they noted was a VERY bad, painful way to go). “Best” case scenario was this – he’d miraculously survive ARDS (I was given extremely poor odds of this happening) only to be felled, in three to four months, by the now totally outta control cancer.

There were NO bright, beautiful forecasts. It was time to let go of my wonderful man, my soulmate. I told his team that he didn’t want any “heroic measures.” He very much wished to pass outta this life in as much peace as possible. TAB and I had discussed this. He was afraid that I wouldn't be able to make the hard call. In tears, I promised that I would honor his wishes.

The good med team sedated the hell outta my man and took out the breathing tube. His lungs continued to function for a few hours and then they didn’t. In as much peace as I could make happen, The Amazing Bob went off grid.

Similarly, our handsome old furry boy had lost the use of his entire back end (and wouldn't ever regain use), couldn’t pee or poop and wasn’t so much into his Fancy Feast and tuna anymore. He had to be in pain – physical and emotional. I gave the word. Dr. Jo gave him a coupla sedatives and then the final euthanizing med was injected.

In both cases, I called the tune. I feel that I made the right/best decisions. I honored TAB’s expressly stated wishes and, I believe, Rocco’s unspoken ones. Still, I have moments of doubt. This is a helluva weight to carry.

I could really use a sunny, warm day right about now.

April Come She Will – Simon and Garfunkel