Later today, around 6PM, my cat Lunabelle will be put to sleep. After being diagnosed with FIP, her health has begun to decline at a rate that we can no longer understand or deal with. She means too much to us to allow her to suffer needlessly, and so, before she begins to truly suffer because of her condition, my mom and I decided it was best to get it done and over with as soon as possible.
I can already imagine it though, and I am beginning to feel nausea from anxiety, fear, and dread. We will put her in her little pink traveling case, walk her to the vet, then I will return home with an empty case. It's a depressing and frustrating picture I can't shake from my mind. Knowing that my angry little sweetie won't be coming home with us to bite my hand, knock over my glasses, swipe at my friends, clean my face, and hug me just breaks my heart.
This is the worst feeling. The worst fucking feeling. I can't properly express what I'm going through emotionally. I'm angry, sad, nostalgic, tired, and anxious. I know this is the right thing to do for a number of reasons but no matter how much I try to reason with myself or comfort myself with logic all I can do is focus on my own suffering. I love her and I'm going to miss her. She was my best friend for 7 years and this all just feels so abrupt. We took her to the vet because we thought she was just constipated and it turned into the final week of her life.
Just knowing that if I had $5000 for vet bills, or medication, or treatments I could have literally bought her more time just rubs salt in the wounds. I guess I can't worry about these hypothetical thoughts too much though; I could cry about the "what ifs" until the end of eternity and it wouldn't help at all. We did the best we could, and given our options, we're making the best choice we can make.
That's little consolation for me though. By this time tomorrow I will be without her and I will have to learn how to keep going on without her around.
I'm not taking this well at all. I'm actually a wreck right now, going through random fits of crying and nostalgic hopeful laughter. Maybe tomorrow morning we'll all wake up and Luna's FIP will be cured by some otherworldly miracle. I suppose there's a chance, but there's no use in expecting that; it wouldn't be a miracle otherwise.
FIP is an absolute mystery to me. I don't know how she contracted it, or what the symptoms are (besides the swelling). And in my ignorance and I find an immeasurable amount of guilt and self-loathing. I hate myself just so much more for failing my friend and not being able to help bring her back to good health. I hate myself for not having buckets of money just laying about to pay the vets with. And I hate myself because I know my mom is in even greater pain than I am and there's no way to console her.
And even though I hate myself, and I don't want to do this, I know that tomorrow I will have to face this head on. For Luna, I some how have to make it through the day and keeping going on without her. I know it's possible, but it's a future that at present time just feels... lonely.