What remains

One of my best friends is pregnant. I’ve posted earlier about how someone told me I’ll be a mom one day and how it made me feel. How I can barely take care of myself, how I don’t feel like an adult. I don’t think that, if you read the many posts of this blog, I need to mention that depression is a reality in my life. It’s something I struggle with on a daily basis. I’m not proud to say it has been getting the upper-hand for some time, too.

On top of it all, my pet is dying. Which is not something unexpected since death is a part of life and she is a 2-year-old mouse (think a 90-year-old lady) with a huge cancer that needs surgery ASAP. It hurts, seeing her suffer, and being powerless to help, and juggling bills (in spite the fact that the vet team has been AWESOME and given me all kinds of discounts possible, God bless them) and the simple fact that I’m watching my sweet mouse that lets herself be handled all we want and will gently bite to get free at the most, slowly die… it hurts TOO MUCH.

When I first got the news, I caught myself replacing her name with my deceased dog’s in my mind. Like it was coming back, all over again. She was horribly ill before finally passing away, it was one of the saddest sights… she suffered a lot. And I started thinking, this is why I didn’t get another dog… I don’t wanna go through this anymore!

Today, I had to rush her to the vet, since she’s scratching her node so badly it bleeds and I couldn’t stop it this time. She’s tiny, weights 37g, so there’s only so much blood she can lose. On the way, I remembered this scene (starts at 0:17mins)  and then at the clinic, as I talked to others in the reception, I said, I feel like a parent. Then it hit me. I really did. The worrying, the caring, the want to take care, protect, see her fine…

She made me, depressed me, get up, brush my teeth, comb my hair, throw some clothes on and rush to the vet. I don’t care about all the cabs I had to take back and forth to that clinic, or the cost of the surgery (even though it’s pricey), or the medicine routine. All I wanted was to see her well. She made me put myself aside and her needs first. For one day, I was an adult, with real problems, facing real grown-up decisions. She turned me into a grown-up with her fragile life in my hands, she gave me the gift or making my first real grown-up decision: will she go through surgery or not? Are you taking the extremely high risk (and I don’t think she’ll make it) or not (and let her continue to be bothered by the tumor and scratch it and bleed and then you’ll freak out and be on watch 24/7)?

Screw college. Screw the funerals I chose to attend the ones I didn’t, screw dating, screw investing money. My first real grown up decision, the one that really made me feel like a parent, responsible, involved taking care of another life.

My dog taught me unconditional love, showed me sweetness, kindness, obedience and even changed my mom’s life. She used to hate pets. My mouse taught me how to be a grown-up, putting your own needs and well-being aside for other’s sake, making tough choices and also showed me… sweetness and kindness.

Thank you.


~ by 1cellinthesea on July 18, 2012.

One Response to “What remains”

  1. […] We’ve been through so much together, she’s like a sister to me and just  the thought of holding you, her baby in my arms thrills me and touches me to the brink of tears. I know I will cry when I see you for the first time. Just as you are a new beginning in her life, a doorway to a whole new lifestyle, responsibilities, joys and chores, I feel like you are in mine, too. My second, important step into adulthood. […]

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