Perspective Sucks

I'll start by saying if you don't want to be sad, stop reading now.

If you know me, you know I like to write about fun and humorous things. It's my nature to try and have a good time.  That is why Lynn and I make good running partners - she is a positive, happy-go-lucky person, willing to try anything.  But writing about cancer isn't a fun topic, and this weekend has brought everything into perspective.  And I have found that perspective sucks.

This Saturday morning, we were doing some house cleaning, when Brenda called me into the bedroom and told me that something was wrong with Tigger - one of our two cats - one we have had for 11 1/2 years.  He was doing an army crawl along the floor, unable to use his back paws.  We knew right away something was wrong, and immediately took him, along with Ryan, to an emergency animal hospital.  Prognosis - not good.  Tigger has Saddle Thrombus, a complication of feline heart disease. A blood clot paralyzing his legs.  In short, we were left with few options.  A 2-week hospital stay, costing thousands still left only a 20% chance of recovery, and the disease could strike again at any time.  Or treat our Tigger with compassion, and put him down.  All this happened in less than an hour.  Little time for rational thought, as he was crying out in pain dragging himself around.  We made a quick decision, and Brenda raced home to get Erika so she could say goodbye with the rest of us.  This is the second animal we've have to put down in 12 years, and the memories of the first time with our dog Thumper came flooding back.  We all held Tigger as he peacefully passed on.  Let me just sum up our Saturday as completely miserable - we lost a loved member of our family, and Boo (our other cat) no longer has a playmate.

Where does perspective come in?

We are grieving over a cat. We had little time to react, process thoughts, and say goodbye. As suddenly as the condition appeared, our Tigger was gone.  On Sunday morning I read Jeff's latest blog post about Emmah.  If you are a parent, someday going to be a parent, or are pet owner, please go out and read his latest entry.  You will be sad, probably will cry, and will have great understanding of why we are running and raising money for Emmah.  Reality may be setting in for the Gudeman family.  A reality nobody ever wants to face.  The possible thought of one of your children passing on before you.  Jeff and Julie have been reacting to this cancer for 4 years.  They have had many thoughts race through their minds for 4 years about treatment options.  They have certainly thought about the possible end game, which Jeff describes in his post.  They don't want to say goodbye. A parent never does.

Cat or Daughter?

Both loved immensely, each in their own way by their parents. Our loss was quite sudden.  Yet we can only imagine what is happening with those currently around Emmah each day.  We pray that her new medication and the trial she just started provides the miracle she and her family needs.  But it is the feeling of helplessness and being powerless that won't go away.

If you stayed with me this far, thank you.  My next blog post will be to ask for your assistance to help Emmah, her family and Neuroblastoma Research, which is why we are running 113 miles in the mountains in Emmah's honor.

As I said...PERSPECTIVE SUCKS.  But it is reality that hits home the hardest.

KEIYTAP