I recently had the sad experience of having one of my beloved cats, Locket, who was 16 years old, euthanized. While her health had been declining for several months and I knew this time was quickly approaching, I wasn’t as prepared for it as I thought. I’m still lost…thought I saw her today lying in one of her favorite corners.
I worked as a nurse in a gynecology-oncology unit for almost 10 years before I began teaching nursing 12 years ago. Because most of our patients spent months, and often years with us for treatment of their disease and complications, a natural outcome was for us to build a relationship with the patient and their families. Many of our patients would die, while they were with us in the hospital. For some strange reason, it never bothered me to care for someone who was dying, like it does other nurses I’ve worked with and known over the years. I’ve learned a lot about caring for people who are dying, and caring for their families during that time. I firmly believe, that when someone is dying, my care begins to center around their family and helping them deal with the process. I still care for my patient, but I turn my attention to helping a parent, spouse, or child, cope with the imminent death.
How does that apply to this blog? Let me tell you about Locket’s ER visit. I had to take her to the local animal ER due to some acute changes in her neurological status. She was staggering and couldn’t hold her head straight, keeping it tilted to the right. When I arrived, I told the young lady at the desk that it wasn’t an emergency, but was an acute change in an almost 17 year old cat. A tech came from the back and took her away with him. (Don’t worry, I got to see her again). While I was giving all my information to the young lady, a middle-aged gentleman rushed in with his dog in his arms wrapped in a blanket. I looked at the dog and could tell he was in severe distress. The clinic was expecting him and another vet tech rushed out and took him to the back. I was able to determine that the dog had been hit by a car and the man had driven over 30 miles to get here to the ER. He was stopped twice for speeding…
After I sat down in the waiting room, I tried to read. But then I began to observe everyone around me. A dog was discharged home (she had eaten rat poison). A cat was discharged (she had had a difficult birth and the clinic had helped). And a woman came to the desk to check on her dog; and was told he had died. She cried out in grief; it sounded as if her heart was broken; and she was alone. I watched as she was told to go out to the side door, and they would bring her pet out to her. I saw her sitting on the tailgate of her car, looking so distraught, and alone.
After a few minutes the dog’s owner was called to the back. And about 30 minutes later he walked into the waiting room. He looked so bewildered. He told the lady at the desk that they didn’t tell him what to do; and she asked “is Riley still back there’? And he said quietly, ‘no.’ In that moment, I knew he had lost his friend. He too looked so lost. And he was alone.
I wanted to run up to him and hug him and hold his hand, but I held back. I was afraid people would think I was crazy or silly. I wish SO much now, that I had done what my heart told me to do. Because, I know this, I know how to talk to people who are experiencing a loss, and are grieving.
And trust me, those of us who have pets, grieve when we lose them. We go through the stages. The sad part is, society doesn’t expect us to do that. Society doesn’t understand that we grieve the loss. Society, doesn’t give us the time.
After he left, I went up and asked the lady behind the desk, if they had a grief counselor or support group and she said they didn’t.
So I began to formulate a plan…
I’m going to provide a way for pet-parents to find their pathways to healing after a loss.
It’s all a journey…
And I want you to come on this journey with me.
We’ll share stories, we will laugh and cry and hopefully we will find healing.
Hand-in-hand, let’s walk this path together.
emme
Pathways To Healing 