Cancer takes away many things. Mostly is takes away choices. Choices that are linked to people you love. Choices linked to finances. Choices linked to outcomes that would have been different if the cancer didn't exist in your life.
Bella, otherwise known as the best birthday gift I ever talked Wil into getting me, was born into this world and into our family in 2003. She saw me finish grad school. She visited with me when my dad was on hospice and had dementia...her name was the only one he clearly remembered at times. She licked my tears when he died. This past year, she spent many sleepless nights with me, pacing our house, sleeping on the couch when I couldn't bear a bed without Wil while he was admitted at UTSW.
You see, Bella really wasn't just a dog. She was a little girl who didn't mind me holding her like a baby if she got a belly rub. She was a guardian, alerting Tyson (or just stirring up trouble) if she felt things were out of place. She was the original tenacious 4.75lb furry monster with love bigger than her body, the everyone loved her #1 chihuahua. She was sweet to children and adults alike. A ninja licker, a master snuggler, an attitude sky high...she had her own pillow on our bed. She had my heart.
Today Bella, our feisty fur baby, was in an unexpected altercation and suffered injuries to her eye and unfortunately internally as well. We have emptied our savings account before to save her legs. But with cancer there is no longer savings accounts. The vet, at first, had given us a 50% price break after hearing about Wil. But during surgery the damage was much more severe than expected. The possible complications too high for her age and the price for her life would impact Wil's treatment.
Wil said we can't do it. Not now. We have to save her.
We cried in his room at UTSW knowing the upwards of $6000 cost and possible poor outcomes didn't make logical sense. I have made so many impossible decisions in the last 6 months. But I never expected this one right now. Sure, she was slow on the 3 legs she used (having never agreed to use the one we paid high dollar to reconstruct...that girl ruled her own world). But nothing stopped her.
I said I can't do it. I can't decide now, not while I might lose Wil. How could I ever survive the loss of him without her.
We cried knowing we had to decide. Knowing Wil would not get to see her again.
Many moons ago we may have been able to try and pull funds together. But cancer takes away so many things. Strips you clean of what you think you can't live without. Leaves you with limited options.
Bella loved her daddy so much. During thunderstorms she would insist on being in his arms. She was my dog. But he was her protector. The last set of storms here, this month, almost killed her nerves. She couldn't touch him. But she needed his safety. She cried and whined and panted. I was not good enough. She wanted him.
The nurse hugged me on my way out of Wil's room. I asked her to sit with him. There was no way to stop the chemo drip and let Wil grieve the loss in person. I drove alone. I held her in my arms. Wil said his sweet goodbyes via phone. I held her until her heart stopped beating. And for just a little bit longer. I saw the vet sob when she turned away.
Everything dies. I know this. I will always remember her cute little twitches and wiggles and closed mouth barks as she dreamed about giving everyone a piece of her mind. Her endless kisses.
Tyson and I are home tonight. The whole drive home he was completely silent. He's never silent. I couldn't bear the thought of grieving without him, but it pains me to leave Wil too. But Wil said take him home. Mourn.
Cancer. No options.
I brought in her bloody kennel. He sniffed the inside. Walked around. Came back. Sniffed some more.
I sat on the couch and wailed. Just when you think you have been broken open completely, your heart breaks once more.
Tyson found her bed n the other room. He's been there the last 45 minutes. My high anxiety guy who has to be within eye sight. Stillness. Soft whines. I think he knows she's gone.
And so begins another long sleepless night here at The Clark's. Wil at UTSW. Me, feeling ever so alone.
oh, mamacita, I'm am in tears. I miss little feisty bella already. it makes me wish i had more time the last time i was in town. It is hard to make these kind of decisions and the recovery and grief even more enduring. but you've exhibited so much strength through so much and I know Bella knows she was truly loved while she was here and couldn't have been with a more loving family :)
ReplyDeleteI hope you are both doing well and I will see you both soon.
hugs and kisses :x
You're right, Jenny -- just when you think your heart can't break any more, there it is again. We all hope that the prayers and love we send your way will help carry you just a bit at this terrible time.
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