We took Norbert to the vet yesterday because he is having problems with his teeth. The estimate to have two teeth extracted? Upwards of $1450.00. I do not have $1450.00 My credit card limit is $500.00. And no matter what decision I make I get the judgement of being a asshole. If I don’t get it done I am asshole for not taking care of him. If I do, I’m an asshole for spending almost $1500.00 on a cat when that when that kind of money would feed a lot of people for a month. I feel like I am being held for extortion. “We will help your beloved cat but pay us a month and a half of wages.” It needs to be done. There are no other options. Norbert is 12 this month so vet bills are to be expected. But $1450.00? It makes me sad. It also bring up the question of when I go to work and gently and lovingly care for a person who is dying. I would never expect that kind of money. Honestly, I don’t feel right getting paid at all but since I work in the non-profit sector I can deal with it. If you can’t afford to pay for care you still get the same level of care and pay nothing. How can you claim to care for something but expect huge amounts of money for doing so? Ah, but the world has always left me confused… baffled.
This morning I got my raggedy hair trimmed. It is still raggedy because that is the way when you have wavy hair. It looks better than it did.
The anxiety came back a bit today, mostly because the issue with Norbert but I was having weird dreams where I was trying to find my husband and I didnt know where he lived and I couldn’t remember his phone number or dial the phone. In that tiny space between waking and sleep I couldn’t remember where he was. Of course, within milliseconds I knew he was here in our home but it was disconcerting. It’s weird how dreams stay with us even when they are complete nonsense.
It is a lovely warm day here. I sat in the sun for a bit. Did laundry. Cut some bluebells. Last night I watched, “Grandma” with Lily Tomlin which was entertaining. We also had some trees topped yesterday because they were blocking the sun where our garden is.
Yesterday at work I had the most beautiful moment with a young palliative patient. She is just a little older than I am. She is very, very ill and just finished another round of chemo. She is trying to stay alive for her son’s wedding in September but it’s getting to be too much. Much too much. She looked so tired, so beaten down that I suggested that I could tuck her into bed and leave early so she could go back to sleep. At this point she started crying and said she didn’t want me to leave, her words raw and desperate. I went over to her, sat on a chair right in front of her and just helped her hands while she cried. Cried from pain. Cried from being so very tired. Cried from having a life cut short. Cried for the unknown. I didn’t do anything special. I told her I had no words. I told her that I will miss her when she is gone. And I told her that I was holding space for her. That she and her life mattered to me. Honestly, these words I am writing do not connect or portray the moment. Sometimes life is beyond words. A newborn baby being placed on your stomach. Sitting by your mom as she takes her last breath. Holding someone’s hand as they cry for a life cut short. I get to be part of one of the most intimate part of someone’s life. That deep part of dying, beyond the brave face. Holding someone’s s hand as her life is being snuffed out, each breath bringing her closer to death. And this is why I do what I do. It is a calling. And I am the blessed and privileged beyond measure.