Quick Update

If there is a harder thing on the planet than watching your child's heart break, I don't know what it is.

Hell, I wouldn't want to know!

We had the "conversation" with the boy last night, explaining to him that his cat is really sick and that nothing the doctor does is going to make her better. We explained that there are options for treatment that might extend her life but that they wouldn't make her feel any better than she does now and even at that she'd be unlikely to live more than another year. His face just crumpled in front of me and I felt like the worst person on the planet, but what else could I do? We talked it over for hours (with many a break for tears and hugs) and he understood. He impressed the hell out of me actually. He was hurting but he faced it squarely. He said that if it comes to putting her down, he wants to be there and hold her in his lap as she goes so she knows she's loved. (Crap, I'm starting to tear up as I write this!) That takes a lot of courage for an 11 year old. I'm prouder of him than I can say.

Tonight, we're taking her to the vet to discuss all the options with him. If he can't give us any reasonable hope for the cat, she won't be coming home with us. We'll ask him to put her to sleep right there so she doesn't suffer anymore. She's been a really good friend to my son and she should go with some dignity, not wheezing out her last breath on the kitchen floor while we're all off at work and school. I think it's the right thing to do . . . but, oh man! My wife and son are going to take it real hard. Just talking about it floored both of them last night. I can't imagine what the real thing will do.

I'm worried about my wife, too. She's never had to face death in any real way before. She's 40 years old and she's never lost anyone close to her (human or pet). This is really the first family member she's going to lose. Oh, she was around when my dad passed, but that was my family (who we weren't too close with at the time) and she was more hurt by my pain than by his death. (if that makes any sense) She was up most of the night with the cat in her lap, crying. I had to do most of the talking with my son yesterday becasue she started to cry every time she talked about it. She'll be alright -she's a tough lady- but I kind of had a smile at her expense last night. She was upset about being helpless, about being stuck just standing on the sideline watching someone she loves dying and not being able to do anything about it.

"Welcome to my life," I said.

For those of you new hereabouts or who don't recall: my wife fought through breast cancer twice and I watched my father die of cancer while she was undergoing treatment. I know all about helplessness and fear. I've been on both ends of the stick: as victim and as spectator in the life/death struggle and I gotta tell you - I'll take victim any day. At least there I can fight, I have some semblance (even if only imagined) of control over what's happening, or at least how I respond to it. When you're watching someone you love fade . . . there is nothing worse in all the world.

Anyway, enough of the depressing.

I got another 1800 words into "Fish" at lunch today. I'm almost done with it now; one or two more decent days and I'll be ready to set it aside to marinate for a bit before loosing the red pens of hell upon it. I don't see anything more being done tonight.

Before I sign off, I want to say thanks to the folks who left comments (and those of you who didn't but just sent a good thought our way) about my boy and the cat. You're ideas are fantastic and your support very much appreciated.

Thank you.

Later!