Molly
Molly Potamus Reznor, my cat, passed away sometime between last night and this morning. :( Talk about shit hitting the fan. I guess she decided that my dad should have a feline companion in heaven. Or, perhaps my dad "picked" her up right after he passed. After all, she was a old kitty suffering from bowel issues and diabetes. She's crackle and creak as she walked.
My dear friend Summer was the one who discovered her. She had called from Austin last night after feeding the kitties that Molly seemed lethargic and depressed. We figured it was one of her phases especially since my husband and I have been gone for so long. She was old, diabetic and would get tired easily. As sad as I am about Molly, I suspect she was suffering too. She'd creak and click whenever she walked, twice a day she got poked with insulin shots and vomiting was a frequent occurrence. Anyhow, I'm sure she's happy and pain free in heaven spending time with my dad now.
I really feel for Summer. What an awful phone call to have to make.
Speaking of awful phone calls, this is what my mom and I have been doing all morning. My dad never told his brothers of his condition (he tends to suffer in silence) and towards the end when his health was really failing, he was too weak to do so himself. They all live far away in Taiwan. They cried of course, but I was also struck by how understanding they were of my dad's ways and wishes. They understood why he didn't tell them and they also knew not to come down for his funeral since my dad has always wanted a small intimate service only consisting of his wife and children. Getting my mom's church to understand this concept has been a little trying though. Ugh...they mean well, but I'm going to do my best to make sure there are no grandiose speeches, rituals and frou-frou hoo-haa getting added to the service.
The mood at home is somber but unfortunately, activity filled...I had no idea dying would generate so much paperwork. I don't really look forward to speaking to Haliburton's HR department, but it is necessary. At the moment, we're waiting for the hospice to pick up the hospital bed, oxygen concentrator, bedside commode, narcotics, etc. etc. I think the reality of my dad's death and the fact that she is now a widow at age 56 has really struck my mom hard. She's washing the sheets that were on the hospital bed right now, doing his laundry for the last time. She doesn't cry, but I know she feels sad.
My dear friend Summer was the one who discovered her. She had called from Austin last night after feeding the kitties that Molly seemed lethargic and depressed. We figured it was one of her phases especially since my husband and I have been gone for so long. She was old, diabetic and would get tired easily. As sad as I am about Molly, I suspect she was suffering too. She'd creak and click whenever she walked, twice a day she got poked with insulin shots and vomiting was a frequent occurrence. Anyhow, I'm sure she's happy and pain free in heaven spending time with my dad now.
I really feel for Summer. What an awful phone call to have to make.
Speaking of awful phone calls, this is what my mom and I have been doing all morning. My dad never told his brothers of his condition (he tends to suffer in silence) and towards the end when his health was really failing, he was too weak to do so himself. They all live far away in Taiwan. They cried of course, but I was also struck by how understanding they were of my dad's ways and wishes. They understood why he didn't tell them and they also knew not to come down for his funeral since my dad has always wanted a small intimate service only consisting of his wife and children. Getting my mom's church to understand this concept has been a little trying though. Ugh...they mean well, but I'm going to do my best to make sure there are no grandiose speeches, rituals and frou-frou hoo-haa getting added to the service.
The mood at home is somber but unfortunately, activity filled...I had no idea dying would generate so much paperwork. I don't really look forward to speaking to Haliburton's HR department, but it is necessary. At the moment, we're waiting for the hospice to pick up the hospital bed, oxygen concentrator, bedside commode, narcotics, etc. etc. I think the reality of my dad's death and the fact that she is now a widow at age 56 has really struck my mom hard. She's washing the sheets that were on the hospital bed right now, doing his laundry for the last time. She doesn't cry, but I know she feels sad.
Labels: cancer, death, emotionally drained, molly
posted by cchang at 12:22 PM
2 Comments:
dude, i'm sorry your week has royally sucked.
happier times ahead, i hope.
love,
sarah
Ya know, the weird thing is that I'm not too sad about Molly dying. I mean, I'm more upset that Summer had to FIND Molly dying. :( I think my Dad really did just stop by and grab her along the way---ya know the whole don't go down alone thing. Even Dad dying wasn't that bad because he didn't have to suffer for too long...
The suckage has to do with VITAS
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