I never sleep in. I am very Ben Franklin that way with my early to bed and early to rise. Even when I go to bed late, I usually am still up by 8:30 at the latest. Sunday was different since I groggily rolled out of bed around 10:30. This meant that the dogs patiently waited for me to release them from their crate to go potty. So in the excruciating heat of the morning (even in September) I let them out and realized something was wrong. Finn was straining (no need for details) and he was in pain. At first I just thought he went in his bed and was trying to act like he didn’t, but something was seriously wrong, I just knew it.
After a couple phone calls to back up my suspicions, we rushed to the emergency animal hospital, though this mommy was so frazzled and not thinking she picked one that didn’t care at all about his well-being (Noah’s). I should have gone to one that was closer to Guy’s and where Finn had his first surgery, but I was so paranoid for my little boy that I just went with the first name that popped into my head.
Reasons I will never go to Noah’s again:
· Finn is in pain and they made me wait an hour to get help (I had to get mad to get help)
· They shared with me that he would possible die (not sugar coated or “there could be the possibility”, but instead cold and harsh “he’s got a 50/50 chance.”)
· Made me wait to see him before surgery (another hour of me waiting as they were prepping him, and I threw a fit in the lobby to get their attention.)
· Didn’t even do the surgery right the first time and wanted to cut him again to charge me more.
· The attendants are bimbettes who rarely, if ever, showed any sense of compassion for the animals there.
After I threw the fit, they were nice. I usually don’t throw fits, I like being nice, but they had me to the very end of my thread and they had to deal with it.
Elizabeth Kubler Ross says there are stages of grief. My love for Finn is terminal and when he is so sick like this I go through them.
Denial – it’s really nothing, he’ll be fine, and I’ll change his food and no worries
Anger – How much can one little boy take, he’s only 9 months and who in the hell do you think you are for keeping him from me?
Bargaining – Begging God to please let him be OK, he is such a good boy and brings so much joy to everyone.
Depression – I don’t recall ever crying so much and feeling so helpless.
Acceptance – No matter what, I will be the best mommy to my little love.
The prognosis was a ruptured bladder. He went into surgery an hour later and I went to Patty’s to self medicate. Polly was with me the whole time and was the best BFF ever. Now I turn my attentions to her and keeping her from feeling lonely. She also is the love of my life. My kitties too know something is up and we have all come together to pray for our little boy’s recovery.
The doctor’s don’t feel that he has very long, but we are going to do what we can. It is going to be expensive and on a tight budget, that will put a bit more strain on me, but I can do it. I always do.
I love you Finn.