A seizure, a wobble, and some Mummy Cuddles

Oh dear. A seizure this evening. He has different types. With this type, I am able to pick him up, settle down and just gently hold him, shield his eyes from the light and talk softly. Poor baby couldn't stop his front legs twitching, so couldn't stop scratching me. I just let him. Snuggled in under my chin, paws twitching and scratching the top of my arm. That's ok. I told him he was safe. I thought about him being safe and happy. I knew he was coming round when he slowed and purred- purrs that grew longer and bigger- and then climbed down. He isn't a cuddle cat, you see. Only wants Mummy Cuddles when he isn't well. He has eaten since, and is at the door looking for night time woodmice. His back legs are still wobbly though. Can't get his meds down him. I have cried another bucket. I try to think healing thoughts, but I just don't have the mental energy any more. I can't do it. Can't focus on the good.

I think you can do two things when someone you love has an incurable illness. You can either start to grieve straight away, and so grieve early, and while they are still with you, and it becomes a long, drawn out grief unless you let yourself go numb, stop any feeling towards them.... when the loss comes, there is an element of relief, of closure, of abilty to move on. The trouble with this reaction is that you spend a little of your time with them grieving. You mourn while they're still here. Isn't that a waste?

The other way is to postpone the grief, carry on as normal, say that life is life till the end, and it isn't the end yet, so keep going as before. Smile, enjoy the time you have. Push away any numbness that threatens to close round your heart. Say that no, you will instead love with all your strength till the end. 
This way takes more strength, I think. And when the loss comes, the blow is harder.

And yes, I do feel qualified to describe these things. A dear friend was diagnosed with leukaemia in March, and a prognosis of 6-9 months. We continued as before, with lots of laughter and gossip. The prognosis was over-generous; she died at the end of May. I can't describe the shock.

I haven't had time or space to grieve for her. I've gone straight into caring for Scooter, straight into his seizures coming more frequently. 

What makes it all the more cruel is that my friend's husband is a vet, and she was a nurse, so whenever I had a worry about Scooter's health, we would talk about it. She would confer with her husband for me. So I've gone from losing her to straight into a situation that I would share with her.

I have been trying to love Scooter the same way as I loved her, positive to the end, focusing not on the end but the good in the present. But I am flagging. Running out of steam. I don't want to look back in the future and think, I didn't strokehim when I could, or talk to him enough, or blah blah blah whatever it is that I can't do right now..........

Now I am waffling........... I will go and get some tea, and check on him. I think he's gone back into his bed....

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Love, tea & cake,  
Helena