Challenges

Indy isn't doing well. That's hard for me to write. I can see her declining rapidly, and it has nothing to do with the leiomyosarcoma that almost killed her four and a half years ago. Or the adrenal and thyroid conditions that have resulted. Or the heart mass. Or the bundle branch block in her heart. Or the kidney disease. Or the sarcoma growing on her back. No, my tough fighter is being bested by arthritis.

While Indiana can still walk (but gingerly), she is having a tough time standing up. She can still do it by herself most of the time, and when I see her dig in those front legs and pull with all of her might, I want to cry every single time at the sheer determination and will that this dog possesses. I want to chop off my own right arm in offering for her restored health.

Our vet assures us she's not really in pain (she's on three million different pain medicines and supplements, so we were hoping that was the case), but she is getting mentally frustrated. She wants to be able to do so much more, but she's trapped in this body that is weak and difficult to move. So essentially, she'll give up mentally before her body is ready to go. There is no "win" in this situation.

I feel totally consumed by her at this point. Though I've lived my life essentially for her since the first cancer, I feel even more compelled now. We've been told that thrice-daily physical therapy (at home, thank goodness) could be of some benefit to her, and she has recently decided that she does enjoy massage (that hasn't always been the case). We have a few tricks up our sleeves, and none of her "staff" (bless their hearts) are giving up on her. And neither are we.

I know most people won't understand this. 99% of people see a dog walking slowly, riddled with arthritis, and they think, "Why don't you put that dog down?" But every pet who is loved fully will tell you when it's time. And though Indy is telling me the time is coming, it's not here yet. So while she still wants to fight, I still want to fight.

As a result, I don't have a lot of free time for much else. I really should start back at voice lessons (I took a break while I was sick), but lessons are almost a whole day of travel, not to mention practice time and the mental commitment of doing it every week. I don't know if I have it in me. A large part of me wants to put the non-essential parts of life on hold, to make Indy's remaining days of life the best they can be.

I recently had a short conversation with a friend about this very thing, and my friend agreed that society just doesn't accept that you could take time off to nurse your pet. I will be destroyed the day I have to let Indiana go, and society won't understand that either. But here's the thing: when I die, I want to remember that I gave everything I had to these pets who gave me everything--heart and soul. I want to know that I provided them with all of the medical care, love, and comfort that I could. I don't think I'll care whether or not I took voice lessons or missed out on a singing opportunity. When I die, I want to be Mom. Not Singer. So I have to follow my heart. Life will still be there on the other side. I'll do the best I can and call that good enough.

So please forgive me if I am not myself these days (though have I been, since Mr. S went missing?). My heart is torn in a million directions, mostly towards Indiana. Some days are great, some days are not so great. I want to enjoy all of them and be sure that she does too.