LadyCarrie

Dear MissingMyLove, My heart goes out to you. I'm so sorry you are hurting so deeply. You will find understanding, care, direction, and prayerfully hope here among many who are suffering the raw grief you suffer now, or have suffer it some time ago. We heal one layer at a time, something like the thin skin of an onion. I will leave the advising to those more capable than I; I just want you to know that I care that you are hurting. Carrie

Hi, Craig, It's so good to hear from you! I almost wrote to you this morning, because I was wondering how you are now. I thought about you, and others on this forum, yesterday while we traveled down the mountain, through the Land of Cows and Coyotes (foothills), and onto the San Joaquin Valley to Modesto where Jerry had some basal cells removed. I suspect Bailey would have loved a good romp out through the tall green grasses and among the cows. Not so for Ashely. The grass on the hills is much taller than she was, so she would have been lost before she got started. Besides, she would have been terrified. She wasn't much of an outside girl. Bailey is totally precious---looks so sweet and huggable. I'm really happy to meet Bailey. Now I know who we are discussing. I'm happy you were able to get the photos put on. Perhaps I can get some of Ashely on soon. I'll need Jerry to help me, and right now, we are getting the year end Quick Books finished for the business (ugh). He has to see yet another doctor tomorrow. It seems that doctors' offices have become a major part of our social life these days. We've lived in the same small community for over 30 years, so we do usually find people we know and talk with while there. Do let us know how you are, for we care. Carrie

Mary, You have gone through spine-chilling shock to, "I feel things are changing, that I am changing." I interpret this changing as progress and reason for hope---for you, for me, and for many others. Although you have suffered tremendously, your words are encouraging and positive. I thank you for them, and will put them into my storehouse of words of hope. Your Mike sounds wonderful and talented ("Tevye and Golda" give a good visual). We like live theater also (we've been able to attend once since Jerry [husband] went to ER on 23 Jan 2013; I feel like that was yesterday, yet the calendar tells me it's been almost 2 years since I was told there was no hope for him to live). Because Love never dies, you are blessed to have Mike live within your heart until he lives with you again in person. Finding Mike on the floor with his dogs must have been absolutely horrible for your daughter. I'm very sorry that happened to her. I'm so sorry you have suffered such shock, and have hurt so deeply. I'm thankful for your progress, and for your sharing your positive and hopeful story (stories) with us. I'm latching onto, and storing up, every word of hope I can. I will be praying for you as you look at your photographs while remembering your love and happy life together with Mike. I say "will be" for Amberly (daughter) will be driving Jerry and me to Modesto where he will have minor surgery today. It is is a three-hour drive (round trip), so I will have a lot of free time to pray as we travel down the hill, and through the area we call the Land of Cows and Coyotes. In that area, there are a few homes, but mostly rolling hills covered with cows and sometimes, dotted with a few coyotes. I have told Jerry and Amberly your story, so they are a bit familiar (I'm just becoming familiar myself, so please forgive me for any gaffe I might make). I'm sure they will pray for you also when I tell them that this is a special day of remembering for you. Blessings, Carrie

Kay, Thank you for your kind words to me, and to so many others. I think you've answered your calling, at least one very important one. I cannot help but wonder how I could/can ever get through a WORSE hurt than that of Ashely's death. I know you understand what I mean (Could I survive? Would I want to? I need some "How to's). I learned Christmas week that my sister, who lives in Gulf Breeze, FL, has spinal cancer. She just learned. Cheez! I am being helped, and I want to help others. Most of the time I'm all right; other times, I get my nose stuck in my belly button. So many others have greater reasons than I for hurting. Remembering this usually snaps me out of self-pity, and I'm strong again (well, perhaps the word "strong" is a bit too strong). Blessings, Carrie

Dear Smb, I'm truly sorry for your loss, and that you are hurting so badly. My heart goes out to you, and in sending you hugs and squeezes. Seeing water/food bowls, toys, hairs---that seem to show up regardless of how many times the floor and furniture are vacuumed/mopped/cleaned---causes sudden surges af adrenalin to shoot through our body, and we are racked with spasms of grief. Then we cry until we can't cry any longer for a while. I am judging on my own feelings and reactions, and am wondering whether you are feeling something similar. Our little Ashely, a little eight and one-half pound Black and Tan Doxie, age fourteen, died 10 October 2014 due to kidney disease after much suffering from severe vomiting, and from treatments at the vets' offices. We are still grieving for her. As my husband, Jerry, and I were reading one evening recently, just before bedtime, he thought he heard Ashely shake her head in the next room (flap her ears in a good body shake). I saw him lean forward to look for her. Then he remembered that she is gone. I saw his face crumple. He told me, "It was so real." I knew and understood, because I think I hear her at times also. I say these things to you to let you know that you are understood, and that we care that your heart is broken. Because we lost another Doxie, Catey Elizabeth, on 4 July 2000, and we got through that awful grief somehow, we have hope of getting through our profound grief for Ashely (we must, though it seems impossible right now). We put Ashely's ashes next to Catey's on a bookcase that we see throughout the day, and this makes us feel like Catey and Ashely are together, which is comforting to us. When I saw your first post, I hurt so badly (for you and for me) that I couldn't respond to you right away as I wanted to. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I was so glad to see that Kay did what I was not able to do for a while. I did stop to ask God to help you, to hold you, and to uplift you, but I could not write right away. I will do better. I won't let that happen again, for we are here to help each other. Blessings and hugs, Carrie

Dear Butch, We are so sorry you are hurting so deeply. May God hold you tenderly in His hands, and bless you with comfort, strength, and stamina. We will continue to pray for you, as we have been. Carrie

Kay, I'm so glad to hear you say that your healing is coming along well ("as expected"), and that you didn't have to wait long. Prayers for you are being answered. I'm amazed at how much you are doing. I know you are doing what you need to do, but do be careful. I'm glad Arlie had a good stay with his friend Sammy. Blessings, Carrie

Butch, I said in an earlier post that I could only imagine your great agony of soul. That statement is inaccurate. I was wrong. I cannot even begin to imagine what agony you are experiencing. Like Kay, I believe no one is ever asked to make a harder decision than to say that it's time. I have no eloquent words of comfort for you (how I wish I did!), but please know that like so many others here, I care from the bottom of my heart. I pray God will bless you with all the strength and stamina you need now and in time to come. Blessings and hugs, Carrie

Hi, Jerry and I managed to donate with MasterCard through PayPal, I believe. We wish we could give more, and if God be willing, we can donate again soon. We care, and we pray each morning together for all who are hurting here. We've become familiar with some of your names, and hope to learn more soon. Blessings to all, Carrie and Jerry

Good morning, Anne, Thank you for responding. Jerry and I had a busy day yesterday, so we have not yet donated, but we intend to do so within a few hours. Although there is a place to use a credit card at "Donate," the transaction appears to go through PayPal. We've heard of PayPal, but have never used it. Thank you for your offer of help. I may need your help, if we have a problem. Because I'm a newbie, perhaps I don't have the right to speak plainly, but it seems to me that with as many members as we have, many more than are giving presently likely have the means of giving at least five dollars a month. I grew up among the poorest of poor in the Mississippi Delta, so I fully understand those who have not one dime to spare. Those who can't give anything at all need to be cared for and nurtured just the same at those who give much. I am not wealthy, and will not be able to contribute to the extent as I am helped by the forum, but I feel compelled to give something back, for this is only right. If there is a way to donate directly with a credit card, and if members learn how to donate this way, perhaps more people will donate. I understand the bookkeeping issues due to my being VP of and having half ownership of JHMC Robotics, Inc., as well as being owner of two other businesses. I know of few, other than CPAs and bookkeepers, who like to "do the books." I hate the paperwork, and I don't blame anyone for not choosing to use precious time, and much effort, to do it. I am running from that part of our own business. One person cannot fill all positions. I have no answer, and not even a suggestion, regarding this part of the donations. I ask God for blessings and healing for all who are here with us. Carrie

Thank you, Marty. We will find a way. Blessings and hugs, Carrie

Wow! What else can express the rush as I look at such beauty and power in action?! Carrie

Kay, Bless your dear heart, and thank you. As I was just now getting the coffee set up for our mad dash for it in the morning, (do you really believe our "mad dash"?), the thought occurred to me that I might have accidentally used your word, "sacrifice." I just looked, and I did. I didn't mean to plagiarize. I'm sorry. I know I learned the word in this sense from you. It just seems so appropriate. It got stuck in my mind, and I used it during a "squalling fit." That seems to be a good term for when I've lost every bit of my dignity, and am close to outright howling (like my Doxie hounds who can get a good howl going when I "abandon" them to go to another room for five minutes without letting them know). Blessings, Carrie

Dear Marty, Thank you so much for your kind words. You've touched my heart, so I have tears of gratitude rolling down my cheeks. Thank you for caring, and for understanding. I have longed to be understood since Jerry first became ill. I've felt near to bursting at my "seams." I think perhaps I'm beginning to be understood, and I thank God, and the people on this forum, for this understanding. Like a young boy once said to me, "I'm crying with both eyes." Blessings, Carrie To All: I realize that I have yet to experience the ultimate pain (for me), yet it's important to me that I be understood. Except for the ultimate loss itself, I experienced the powerful emotions many of you experienced. I know the fear, the frantic, smothering, near-panicked terror of being told that my darling, the love of my life, the primary source of my livelihood, and a most primary reason for my desire to live, was expected to die. I stood in the hallway and begged God, over and over, "Please, Lord, If you take Jerry, please, please, take me, too." Day after day, this was my prayer. It wasn't that I wanted to leave my only child, my precious Amberly (how I hoped she understood); instead, I just didn't think I could live without Jerry. I know the terrible fear of "amputation," for I live it. Unlike many of you, I have yet to experience the amputation itself, but I live with the fear of it. It is always present with me, at all hours of the day and night. I tell myself that I might die before Jerry dies, for this is possible. I am somewhat comforted by this thought, until I remember that I would not want Jerry to suffer the sacrifice of being lost and alone, sick, and without me. While Jerry was in Step Down, before he fully understood his condition, he lay on his bed praying for all those who cried out in pain. He said that he felt "so sorry for all the sick people." His roommate had pneumonia, and would be going home; however, the equipment (CPAP) on him made loud noise, and he cried out often due to his advanced age and dementia. Jerry thought the poor fellow was in agony. Jerry reached for my hand, and said with such deep compassion, "We sometimes forget how blessed we are until we see someone who is so much worse off than we are." I wanted to bolt for the door, but I couldn't do that, for Jerry would not have understood. It was so difficult to hear him say this, because I knew there was NO ONE in more danger, in the entire Step Down, than he. I screamed and screamed, but only I knew. Many of you will understand those silent screams that rip through your heart, and at your very soul. Adjectives such as strong, brave, and stoic are sometimes used to describe me. Don't they really see me? Don't they know that I feel more like a child looking for a lap (but it's Jerry's lap for which I will forever look)? I must be a danged good actress! I try hard to keep Jerry from catching me crying. The bathtub is a great place to cry, and mentally scream out my hatred toward Death. I can splash my face with water with lightning speed now; bath water and tears are indistinguishable. Blessings to each, Carrie

Since I'm a newbie, I'll ask, "What kind of dog is Arlie?" He's a big guy, for sure and certain. Carrie

Marty, Fae, anyone who knows: I am trying to donate by MasterCard. How do I do this? I keep getting PayPal, and I'd rather use my MasterCard only. Carrie

Kay, Thank you for your prayers, thoughts, and care, especially since I know you are going through a particularly difficult time with your recent surgery, and difficulty receiving the care you need to recuperate well and quickly. You are sweet to think of me, and so many others, in your own time of need. Some of us "take charge," Type A temperament, people do indeed feel helpless when we can't "fix" whatever needs fixing (perhaps we have this in common?). It's so hurtful and frustrating to lie beside Jerry at night, and hear him moaning softly, even in his sleep. Sometimes massaging his painful areas helps him, and gives me something useful to do; other times, massage causes more intense pain and agitation (and he apologizes for it!). Yes, when I can't give him medicine, or even rub him, I feel helpless. I lie beside him, and massage his head. He has always loved that, and this I can do. Rubbing his grand silver head relaxes him, and sometimes enables him to sleep. I lie beside him, and I beg God to ease the pain that causes him to nearly spontaneously jump out of bed. Thankfully, Jerry still has good days. He's nearly always in pain to some level, but he does get reprieves. You know that I've pushed against the word Caregiver, although I am grateful for the privilege of taking care of Jerry. I am eager to do everything possible for him, and have been for almost two years (January 23). For 46 years, I've sought to please him; even when he was the strongest, most capable man I've ever known. He's the one who takes care of the rest of us; our "go to" person. Everything within me screams, "This can't be happening to my Jerry!!!" I am pushing against the position of Caregiver out of fear that this is the best he will ever get. This fear (knowledge) is my real problem with the word. I accepted knowing that my precious mother would get no better, and I gladly accepted the position and all responsibilities of her Caregiver. Remembering those days of feeding, batheing, and diapering her, causes me to feel like I can't let my sophisticated, dignified Jerry become in that condition. I think my love and respect for him causes me to fight against him "needing" a caregiver, rather than my "becoming" his caregiver. I can accept my responsibilities and duties as his wife changing much easier than I can accept his needing a caregiver, for the latter means he won't ever get better, but worse. Thank you for listening while I try to sort out my feelings. I so eagerly do whatever he needs, or even wants, done. Doing for him makes me happy, and always has. It's his having need that I can hardly bear. I can't, except by the strength and stamina God gives to me. Were I with you, I'd give you a hug; so here goes, consider yourself hugged. I'd also do something useful, and cook and clean for you. I don't like to cook; do you have something that needs sewn? (Smile). I sew well, and people tell me that I'm a good cook. I'm quite interested in nutrition, so I'd feed you well. Blessings, Carrie

Butch, I have been reading, but not writing, primarily because I am new, and you are unfamiliar with my name. I just want to tell you that I am praying for you, and have been telling my family about you and Mary. We all care. I join this circle in prayer for you. I can only imagine your great agony of soul. Marty just expressed so eloquently what I feel. May God hold you both (all of you) underneath His protective wing, and grant you the strength and stamina you need. Blessings, Carrie

Craig, How are you today regarding Bailey? I've been thinking of you today, and wondering how you are. Carrie

Kay, Thank you also for responding. Yes, Jerry is a very special man, and he's so humble that he doesn't even realize this is so. I told him that I will email the pastor, so he will understand why we can't keep our word today. Jerry then felt somewhat better about it. He had told me, "I feel like I'm doing something wrong." Jerry really should not be driving due to what he calls "dizzy spells," and I call vertigo (since I have Meniere's). He drives only occasionally, and I am there to take the wheel (not ideal, but I will harm him emotionally and psychologically, if I ask him to not drive at all; his doctors are aware, and Jerry is preparing himself). As I've posted elsewhere, Jerry "grows" aneurysms (doctor's "fancy" medical terminology), which makes us wonder the cause of the dizziness. God forbid a brain aneurysm! I told his cardiologist, in Jerry's prescence, about the dizziness, and that Jerry made the decision to not have a CT, because he knows he can't have the surgery, even if needed. He knows this, because he needs hip surgery badly, but the doctors say that he likely couldn't withstand it. Jerry prefers for me to talk with the doctors for him about the hard, emotional issues, such as this one. The cardiologist said that he understands Jerry's choice to not know whether it's another aneurysm under the circumstances. Jerry can't take pain medications that contain Tylenol due to his liver failure in 2013 (due to a 9 cm aneurysm at hepatic artery; he's on Coumadin, a blood thinner!). The 3 meds he can have are OxyContin (he's probably taken no more than 6 in a year, because it's for "severe" pain, and he's concered he might hurt even worse, and might need it even more and not have any); Soma, a muscle relaxer, which doesn't do a lot for pain; and a rare Celebrex, if he feels that he absolutely must have an anti-inflammatory (doctors are concerned about his taking meds due to his liver working on only the hepatic vein, and no artery). Long story short, he must endure a lot of pain daily, because medications can cause his liver to not work (cause his numbers to go high, and then he's in serious trouble again). His suffering hurts me so badly. Said bluntly, pain meds can kill him, so he does without unless the pain is so great that he cries (can you hear my silent screams?). He has good days; and on those days, life is good, and our hearts sing. He is more like he's always been, and can enjoy his projects (electronics; remote control, plus). How I thank God for those "normal" days! On such a day, he might can drive to our favorite restaurant. We've taken so much for granted, but no more. Still, we are all right---mostly. We are still praying for you, and for all on the forum, for we all hurt together. May God uplift each. Blessings, Carrie

Marty, Thank you very much for responding, for your advice, and for the list of articles. I find your articles most helpful. Happy Sunday. Jerry and I were going to visit a little Southern Baptist Church at Sonora this morning, but he had a bad night. He groaned a lot, and was awake much of the night. The pastor came to give us such a warm invitation one day last week, so Jerry feels like he's letting him down. There no way Jerry is able to sit still for the service this morning (too much pain; too much agitation due to pain). I'm disappointed also that we can't attend, but I'm telling Jerry that we will try again next week. God is good. We have THIS day together. Blessings, Carrie

Leftover, Your post to Craig is powerful and touched my heart, for sure. I wish all dogs and cats could have warm, loving homes. I hurt for all the feral cats we have in our subdivision, due to owners not having their cats neutered or spayed. We've taken a few to have them "fixed," but it gets expensive. There are SO many. I did declare that I couldn't go through the pain again when we lost Catey, our Doxie, but I likely would have decided to get another Doxie at some time. Our vet told me at the time that our home will always have at least one Doxie. He knows us well. He was reared with Doxies, so he knows they're habit forming. I just wasn't ready as soon as Jerry and Amberly were. I didn't mean to be selfish. I just needed to wait a while. We waited six months, and bought three. I've been a "Mama Doxie" for a lot of years. When Ashely was so sick with KD, the same vet tried to give me two homeless Doxies, even knowing we had three, and one seriously ill. Their owner was dying, and was asking him to find a good home for them. He thought of us. I felt that I could hardly refuse to help. He saw me struggling, so he told me that I already have "too much on my plate," meaning my taking care of Jerry, and the unknowns we live with. I felt honored that he chose us to have them, but he and I both knew five Doxies and a not-well husband was too much for me. Still, it broke my heart to not take them under the circumstances. The owner didn't want them separated, which was understandable. I think they were anyway. When we still had our mini-ranch in the Valley, we had two Great Danes. We loved them also, and have much respect for the breed. They need room to run, and we have only two lots now. We must stick without short-legged kids. I'm really sorry you lost your Kylie, and that you are hurting. Carrie

Rita, I'm so very sorry you are hurting so badly. I think you should listen to Marty and Fae regarding the grief counselor. Try to find one that "fits." I'm actually looking for one myself, since I am in anticipatory grief. We live in a rural subdivision in the mountains near a small town, so we don't really have many counsellors of any kind. I do have a former client who is a psychologist, who I'm considering calling. She isn't a grief counsellor though; just sweet and easy to talk with. I'm reading just as fast as I can in preparation (realizing I cannot really prepare), so I'm off to Marty's "Grief Bibliography." I cannot say that I know how you feel, but please know that I care, and that my heart goes out to you. Blessings and hugs, Carrie Marty, do you think a psychologist might be helpful for me? She's really more of a child psychologist. Since we live a small community, our families have known each other for a lot of years, and her brother is a doctor who works with Amberly, my daughter. The fact that she knows my family is likely good, because she already knows my Jerry. I know she cares, but I don't know that she can help me cope with grief. The forum is helping me, so I want to make a contribution some time in January. I can't give as much as I'd like to give, but I want to give back something. Blessings, Carrie

Hi, Craig, Each fur baby is different, and we love each of them for who they are. I understand your fear of getting another dog, but it may just help heal your heart, as it did mine. I was SO reluctant to get another one, because I was protecting myself. Be sure you are ready. No two are exactly alike in temperament or personality, although they might look alike. When we lost our red sable Doxie named Catey Elizabeth on 4 July 2000, I hurt so badly that I decided to never have another one. We were all sick at heart with grief. People are as different as are their beloved dogs. My way of grief was to avoid ever going through it again. My husband and my daughter needed to have another Doxie running around our house in order to get through their pain. Because of my love for the two of them, we contacted a breeder near San Diago, and began our paperwork to buy another little red sable girl, who we named Calico Rose, because her mother was Blue Gingham. We call her Callie. When we first visited the breeder (several trips were required), Amberly, our daughter, fell in love with a little red boy, who we named Beauregard, because he looked so much like his bloodhound ancestors. We couldn't leave behind the little Black and Tan girl who was smaller than the rest, had legs of unequal length, looked frail, and whose eyes melted our hearts. Some would call her the runt of the litter, but we never did, and neither did her vet. We named her Ashely Rose (parents were Ashes and Embers, hence the spelling of her name), and learned to love her dearly. Ashely needed more care in some ways than the others, and slept with Jerry and me (in the circle of my left arm) for fourteen years. She was the happiest and most playful of the three. She was high energy, and wanted to play from the time she raised her eyelids every morning, until she went to bed for the night. She played even when she was so sick; even to the day before she died. She'd fall over from weakness, but still wanted on the floor to play. We let her, but stayed right with her. Then one night, she couldn't play. She just sat there. She was so sad. I picked her up, and knew in my heart that her vet was right. It was time. Your mentioning Bailey's playing ball reminded me of Ashely and Jerry (husband) playing ball every night just before going to bed. Ashely has left such a void in our lives, and a few days after Ashely died of kidney disease, her cousin, Callie, was diagnosed with it, so here we go again!! Beauregard tested negative for it, thankfully! All three were fourteen. Our house has been ruled by Doxies most of our 46-year marriage. Each has brought us so much love and laughter, and then pain. As you said, the last one hurt the worst. In truth, I've never loved one in quite the same way as I love Ashely (perhaps because she needed me more, and was so like a baby). Your Bailey sounds like a lot of fun, and downright huggable. Perhaps you have photos you'd like to share. Your comment about his going into the water only to his ankles is funny. I get quite a visual. I tell you all this about our fur babies to let you know that I understand something of how you feel, and because I hurt also. Thank you for listening to me. We've lost one fur baby, and are about to lose another one within a few months likely. There is no cure for KD, and except for diet and water, not a lot of treatment. We are not through grieving for Ashely; tears still flow easily and often. God gave men tear ducts, just as He gave them to women. It's all right to cry. My Jerry is unashamed of his tears. As has been said somewhere, tears are the bleeding of our emotions (I'm sure I destroyed the quote, but you'll understand my meaning). Carrie

Hi, I'm so very sorry you've lost your Bailey. I know how badly you hurt. We recently lost our precious little Ashely, a 14 year old miniature Doxie, who we love so very much. She had kidney disease, and was so very nauseated. I feel guilt also. It helps a tad to remember that she's not hurting any longer. Arthritis hurts very badly. I know, because I have "severe and advanced spinal arthritis." I'm sure you did what you needed to do, but I know this doesn't lessen your pain. My heart goes out to you. Feel free to write to me, and to all the others here, for we care that you hurt. They are our fur children, and we love them so much. Carrie