I did well by Sam, and by those who love(d) her, but not quite well enough
We'll give him credit, B first noticed something was wrong. I listened to him and reasoned with him, he called the emergency vet while I was away but it wasn't an emergency, I took her to the vet when I returned and they initially found nothing wrong, but we set up a timetable for the next steps.
I stretched the timetable a bit, because I wanted to include T in those next steps. But by then, Sam's deterioration had become obvious. And so T returned to an obviously diminished Sam.
T also felt it was an emergency, so I spoke with him and scheduled a vet visit for FRIDAY. Because it wasn't an emergency. And it wasn't. We would take her back to see the same doctor who saw her before, who was also the doctor who helped us with Dax on his last day. We trust this doctor.
We spent a few more days with Sam, and she was OK, doing her Sam things, even as her body was on the verge of disintegrating. Sam got to meet some of my family, they got to meet her.
T and I sent our visitors on their way, we wrapped up our work weeks, we took Sam back to the vet. Learned what was wrong. Did the right thing.
But it wasn't quite well enough. I wish I'd been able to move time and space to have done all of this one week earlier. Then Sam's final few hours could have been less chaotic. For a reason that haunts me.
Sam's body began to disintegrate right there at the vet's, right there in front of us. I cannot unsee it. I'm so so sorry, Sam.
Our trusted vet said he had never seen such a thing in his 20 years of practice. We could not possibly take her back home.
Goddess, I kept you and everybody together until almost the last hour, and then you fell apart. I wish I could've seen you off one hour earlier, or one week earlier.
But after you fell apart, the rest was swift, and we gave you all the drugs you needed. And saw you off. With your favorite human B by your side.
As with my grandfather, we kept you alive just long enough to say goodbye.
I stretched the timetable a bit, because I wanted to include T in those next steps. But by then, Sam's deterioration had become obvious. And so T returned to an obviously diminished Sam.
T also felt it was an emergency, so I spoke with him and scheduled a vet visit for FRIDAY. Because it wasn't an emergency. And it wasn't. We would take her back to see the same doctor who saw her before, who was also the doctor who helped us with Dax on his last day. We trust this doctor.
We spent a few more days with Sam, and she was OK, doing her Sam things, even as her body was on the verge of disintegrating. Sam got to meet some of my family, they got to meet her.
T and I sent our visitors on their way, we wrapped up our work weeks, we took Sam back to the vet. Learned what was wrong. Did the right thing.
But it wasn't quite well enough. I wish I'd been able to move time and space to have done all of this one week earlier. Then Sam's final few hours could have been less chaotic. For a reason that haunts me.
Sam's body began to disintegrate right there at the vet's, right there in front of us. I cannot unsee it. I'm so so sorry, Sam.
Our trusted vet said he had never seen such a thing in his 20 years of practice. We could not possibly take her back home.
Goddess, I kept you and everybody together until almost the last hour, and then you fell apart. I wish I could've seen you off one hour earlier, or one week earlier.
But after you fell apart, the rest was swift, and we gave you all the drugs you needed. And saw you off. With your favorite human B by your side.
As with my grandfather, we kept you alive just long enough to say goodbye.