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Fragile…or How grief takes hold.

DSCN0869     Today, this day, the sky is grey and rain comes down. Sometimes slow, sometimes fast, sometimes taking a break and sometimes…still waiting for the next sometime to write.

In November I posted my blog piece, ‘I No Longer have a heart…’ on an animal mourning website. Not sure what prompt me to do so but at the time felt a need to release my mourning by whatever means necessary.  Forgot about the post, months passed and then Tuesday came.

I received an email from a pet owner. She lost her fur baby two days prior and was on her 18th hour of crying, screaming, lashing out and not knowing how to deal with the pain.

Like me, she had to make the decision to end her dog’s life and wanted to know how I was doing after six months had passed.

photo.PNGFloored I was.

Did not expect this.

Came out of nowhere into my email which I was checking via Iphone while sitting in Fairway’s parking lot.

Started crying in the parking lot.

Cried, when I got home.

Cried touching his ashes.

Cried.

So f*****g sick of crying.

I responded to her email to let her know it does get better. Memories and pictures guide you through. Allowing grief to take its course is a given.

And it does get better.IMG_1071.jpg

I’ve surrounded myself with so many memories of him. His leash hangs on my coat rack, his collar on a peg in my bedroom where his ashes also rest. I live in the place, Brooklyn and in the house, Berkeley where the memories began. I run in the park he so cherished, especially on Monday mornings after the weekend barbeque garbage lays waiting.

Pi Patel will always be with me.

 

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Let the rain come down…

Nov. 9, 2016

So here I sit in my lonely room
Lookin’ for my sunshine
But all I’ve got is two cigarettes
And this broken heart of mine

-Prince

Cigarettes I no longer crave. I stopped smoking years ago.

I spend allot of time sitting around trying to figure out which way to go while feeling lonely for Pi.  Yes, my heart is still broken but not the broken of being just broken as on October 24 when he passed. It’s a broken of what was fragile, now gone and can’t be put together again.

It’s been 17 days since he passed and 17 days since a drop of wine has touched my mouth. Grief took place with no escape from reality brought on by a bottle of wine. In order for my grief to form, grow and dissipate to where it is comfortable to live with, my mind and body had to be completely clear. It’s working and for that I thank Pi.

The results of the 2016 Presidential election brings fear, trepidation, uncertainty and longing to be in the frame of mind I was in on Nov 7 before the shit let lose.

But…

No regressing, the present is fleeting and the future ‘is not ours to see’ (Que Sera, Sera).

I miss Pi Patel.  img_1125

(Although, I told HIM, I’d drink three bottles of wine a day to have him back.)

But…

As a dog parent friend posted on my FB on Nov 12, “Showing up for life when we don’t feel like it is very healing”.

It is healing.

And although I’d like to stay in bed, sorting through pics of my fur baby, it’s not possible.

Bills gotta get paid, and I gotta start living.

I no longer have a heart because Pi took it with him…

October 24, 2016 at 12:30am Pi Patel, at the age of 12 passed on.

He took his last breath, in my arms wrapped in a towel after receiving Propofol followed by Euthosol. He went quietly and at peace. The laboured breathing became soft and even and the discomfort/pain dissipated as his body shut down.

On the third day of his pass, I still grieve. Not as hard as day one when I returned home with Pi’s leash and harness but no Pi. The tears and physical stress were non-stop, to the point where my eyelashes turned inward and prick at my eyeballs. I learnt on that first day at 3am, it’s better to cry standing up rather than lying down, for the phlegm building up in the sinus’ does not drain in rhythm with the tears streaming down the face. Too painful to lie down so I stood in the kitchen and cried.

The steps of grief are making their appearance against my will.

It starts with…

Bargaining

I bargained with HIM to bring Pi back and of course he has yet to do so. I stopped drinking wine a couple of days prior to Pi’s passing because the consumption was becoming excessive. I blame HIM because I feel the help given to stop drinking came with a cost-Pi’s Life! Please, please, please bring Pi back and I’ll return to drinking and consume three bottles a day!!!! 1522175740119

Bargaining TO Anger

For a vet nurse the signs leading up to Pi’s critical status should have been obvious. WHY didn’t I see it! Too busy drinking wine to notice? He was lethargic, did not want to walk, had loose stools, relieved himself on the kitchen tile.

Well…

That’s normal for Pi, except the relieving part. That’s it. Didn’t pay attention to relieving himself in the kitchen. I WAS NOT OBSERVANT ENOUGH! I LET MY OWN DOG DIE AND DID NOTHING TO SAVE HIM!. Should have questioned his doctors more, more testing, more bloodwork, more and more and more…and it still would not have saved Pi.

Anger TO Depression

dscn0030I miss him so. The pain and longing is unbearable. Prior to the euthanasia, I rubbed Pi’s head, inhaled his scent, over, over, over and felt his breath short and shallow on my cheek, over, over, and over. DID NOT WANT TO LET GO. He shivered and I held him tighter, trying to feel the little bit of warmth left in him. He was cold, weak and terribly uncomfortable. He needed to go, to get away from pain and I had to let him go.

Depression TO Acceptance

He’s not here at home with me and in two weeks time he will be home again-this time in an urn.

Ashes to Ashes

It’s easy to accept, yes, my dog is dead. Cold, heartless, steel, jagged edges=DEAD. My dog is dead and that’s that, over and finished. All that’s left in this house right now are his bed, bowls, leash, harness, tags, shampoo, medications, vitamins, lentil food sitting in the fridge, full bag of kibble, towels, winter clothing, booties…and his SCENT. I sniff his bed as much as possible. I miss him so and so and I’m so…  pi-patel

ANGRY

DEPRESSED

ANGRY, ANGRY, ANGRY.

So Angry I could scream!!!

But instead…

I CRY in the supermarket

I CRY walking Toby

I CRY looking at his pictures

I CRY, CRY, CRY…   img_1118

I no longer have a heart because Pi took it with him.

I would do anything…(pt 2)

Yes.

I would do anything for the love of Tobias, my first fur baby!

Tobias, 13 yrs of age and plague with many illnesses. Some breed specific: dermatology issues with yeast, cataracts, possibly Cushing’s disease . Other illnesses linked to old age: arthritis, vestibular disease , and lipomas galore.

I would do anything…for Tobias.

Mulberry Model-who did double walk-way struts when Pi Patel grew bored of the scenery

The guardian of mom when she was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. Tobias did not leave her side before the diagnosis, during the procedures following the diagnosis and the ensuing chemo treatments

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Tobias, the therapy dog, who frequented Bishop Hulces Episcopal Nursing Home where he greeted all residents with long petting sessions.. Most especially, affecting the residents of the dementia floor who were non-verbal but spoke during a visit with Tobias

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Ok.

This stops here…lists are boring…but pictures, yes pictures, visually tell more.

The Puppy years. (L) First grooming (R) First day home. .

tobiaspi-outline-compare

Tattoo comps

tobias-paw

More tattoo comps

Bed Buddies

Toby  being a good sport when mom is bored

Toby’s surgery-never again will I be in surgery with my fur babies…well maybe

Toby just being, The Tobes, Tobadiah, Mr T, Mr Tobes, Chunky monkey, Tobias, Tub of Lard (mom’s nickname, not mine)…

 

Toby and I say, “THANK YOU” to everyone who reached out to us during his bout with vestibular disease. Words of concern and encouragement are so dear when one feels alone  going through this. Once again, “THANK YOU!”

Too Blessed…To Be Stressed…

Walking the fur babies this morning led to a wonderful quote from a woman I greeted with, “How are you?”

“Too blessed to be stressed”, she replied and smiled a smile that competed with the brilliance of the sun’s rays on the sidewalk

.  download

What a positive way to begin one’s day. A new day, without the anger and disappointment carried over from yesterday or the worries and fretfulness of tomorrows ‘what’s to come’.

 

Too blessed to be stressed.

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Those words remind me to heed and acknowledge the power of Gratitude.

Gratitude often ignored, often forgotten while one concentrates on the wants of what to have, and not  of what one already has.

It’s hard.

Life gets in the way and ruins all the good thoughts.

I don’t have a shower with cold water-at least I have a shower.

I don’t like the food I’m forced to buy due to finances-at least I have food.

I don’t like the apartment I live in as it’s overheated, too humid and needs new flooring and tiles-at least I have an apartment to call my own and it keeps me warm, with a floor to walk on.

I don’t have enough money-at least I have some money.

I don’t like having to make my own lotion and shampoo because I can’t afford to buy the ‘good stuff’-at least you have the ingredients and the stove and fridge to make the lotion and the shampoo.

I don’t like Fios or Time Warner service and can’t afford the full package deal-at least I got cable and a tv to watch it on.

I can bathe, cook, clean myself up, wake up from sleeping in a comfortable bed, have fur babies whom I love ( and where my salary goes to), a salary of some sort, food (okay it’s not all organic and vegan as I’d like it to be), once again FOOD, clothing (okay most of it’s from Sears)-so I need to shut up, get my butt back into volunteering and going to church to ease my mind and get the balance right in my head.

Yes.

images

I am too blessed to be stressed.

 

**images from the Word Wide Web.

Mean Girls pt2…

I returned to General Practice Veterinary Medicine after four months of working  12-14 overnight shifts in Veterinary Emergency care. Time spent in ER was incredible in terms of experience gained and processing death from trauma. I truly miss the doctors and eager vet students I was fortunate to work with. Their love of medicine and the desire to save all God’s creatures from injuries was unprecedented. I realize the privilege to work with this crew and although  BP misplaced me in terms of job title and where I truly needed to be, which inevitably led to my failure-I forgive. Nothing can replace what I saw, did, treated, prayed over, held as the last breath was released, can ever measure up to the experiences gained in working overnight emergency.

20151016_130102 (2)

Fate’s OHE-spay (uterus)

And…

BP will accept me back.

After…20141128_154254-1 (2)

More time spent in GP.

Yes. I miss ER.

But…

My body and emotional mindset is exhausted.

I no longer shed tears at PTS’s (put to sleep). 20141107_103448 (2)

Not in front of clients.

Not in the bathroom.

Not on the train going home.

But…

At night, when I stare at the ceiling at bedtime.

I guess it’s all good in some sick way for I can now concentrate on the owners and offer more support from mi alma which no longer feels.

My blog on transitioning to this career has ended. My thoughts on the continuance in this career  as well as school is now questionable. 20151024_071642 (2)

Because…

The other side of this business is still present and for that matter,  will always be. As long as there are insecure, unstable nurses-the Mean Girls , in this field the drama will thrive.

Don’t want to end up on NY1 so I’ve grown thick skin, a thick heart an emotional void and most importantly the desire to have only working relationship with them.

No, you are not my friend or close confident.

No, I do not need your approval to validate how I do my job.20150417_152313 (2)

No, I will not gossip about other co-workers, maliciously or even constructively with you.

No. No. No.

Accusing me of not cleaning?

Please watch the video.

2016 is in full string and transitions seem to be lining up. I’ve thought about leaving the state in search of Tech Nursing work. My mind is working, talking to others who have relocated and gauging if this is a necessary transition to make.

Time will tell. Actually the Fall will tell.

I’m biting at the bit and I love an adventure.

20141003_124721 (2)

Why not?

Cali, Georgia, one of the Carolina’s. Florida? Virginia, Washington, Seattle?

Who knows.

 

I Would Do Anything for Love…

Yeah right!

Still single so how could I?

But…

I would do anything for love when it comes to my fur babies.

I’m already doing it. My salary is theirs. Working for the  six animals in the household. Four require serious and not so serious medication while the other two are thriving.

Health report of the fur babies:

Tara-Habby-Queen Bae.

FullSizeRender (3)

Big E-Leader of the upstairs pack.

IMG_0601

 

Winnie-Herpes

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Fate-Fibrinous Anteriour Uveitis in both eyes-FIP suspect

IMG_0470

Fate- 9 months

Pi Patel-aside from a career as a Mulberry model –possible liver cancer/dermatologic issues

pihr8

Toby-cataract and liver issues

pihr5

The caretakers:

Me-increased consumption in wine and trying to be a runner as well as trying to be a Buddhist,  trying to be an Episcopalian, while pretending to be a Catholic.

FullSizeRender

 

Mom, my mom-bitchin about the fur babies!

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It’s all good.

At least, I keep telling myself, mantra style.

I’m gonna brag a bit.

No.

Not brag about the restaurants I visited, the vacations I had, my PR running time or even the enormous amount of weight I lost.

I’m a gonna brag about the Furbabies.

The Furs.

Home Cooking:

Anti inflammatory recipe for Pi Patel and now Tobias thanks to my dear neighbour Karen!

image 1image 3image 4 image 2image 6

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This is how they roll…in the house of course.

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Tara-Habby’s throne

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The Habby’s private bathroom and rooftop lounge

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Private gym and library

Ok.

Enough of the brag.

 

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