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Found 3 results

  1. I somehow can't move forward. My young little dog passed away unexpectedly due to fatal mistake by a bad vet. I am riddled with guilt for letting him go there. This was a different vet we found out too late he was incompetent and killed my dog, just for a routine dental cleaning. Something that takes less than an hour. He did nothing right and everything wrong. My dog did not deserve this. It was voluntary and I regret sending him there. I grieve and cry every day. I don't now how to manage this. It's a big loss. He was the pack leader and such a wonderful friend to his 2 brothers. What do I do? I am beside myself. He didn't need this done. He was only 6 and very healthy. He was a fearful dog. It's possible they kept him in fear against his will without calling me to alert me that he was frightened. It' only my 2 other dogs that keep me going. Is there really a bridge? I need some kind of hope. I am lost. I don't eat right. I'm down 17 lbs and haven't gained any back. His passing is tearing me apart inside. I loved my little guy and I feel I failed him. I had on word to say to prevent this fro happening. I could have said NO, that he was not coming in and I would have kept him home. He'd be here today instead of in a box in my closet which I still cannot open!!!
  2. My yellow lab, who would have been 2 years old next week, was hit by a car. I had gotten off of work and picked him up from puppy day camp. On the way home, he was hanging his head out the window with a huge smile on his face just like he did every day. I had to hit my brakes faster than usual due to a car stopping short in front of me. Murphy got scared and his reaction was to jump out my window. The second he hit the ground, a car was right there. They didn't even have 1 second to try and swerve or hit their brakes. Neither of them meant for this to happen. I literally pulled into someone's front yard and ran to Murphy. As I got close, I saw him pull his left arm towards him and he yelped. I can still hear that yelp today, 3 weeks and 1 day later. I hugged him and he was not blinking. I checked for a pulse and was relieved to find one, but he was not moving. I started giving him CPR and yelling at cars to call 911. The driver of the car got out and kept saying "he's okay, he's okay." No, Murphy wasn't okay. I stopped CPR and hugged him, and I felt his body relax and fade away. I knew I lost him at that moment. A police officer showed up and as he was walking towards me he said on his radio "it's just a dog." I began screaming at him to help me to where he said "ma'am, there's nothing I can do," not even coming near Murphy. 3 people who stopped helped pick him up and get him in my car, yelling at me to get to a vet. As I pulled away, my brother called that he was right behind me. I pulled over and he jumped in, sitting in the back seat with Murphy. I drove the shoulder in rush-hour traffic down 2 highways to get to an emergency vet. I was pulled over but kept going. As I got to the vet and the techs ran out to my car, they confirmed what I knew was true but did not want to hear- Murphy did not have a pulse. I went inside and felt numb. I couldn't cry. I felt like I was going to throw up. This couldn't be real. 3 weeks and 1 day later, it still doesn't feel real. Murphy did not deserve for this to happen. He didn't mean for it to happen. I have a tremendous amount of guilt and "what if's." If I left work 1 minute earlier, this wouldn't have happened. If I drove 2mph slower, Murphy would still be here. If I had the window up half way, my best friend would still be with me. I can't help but think that this was my fault. I have not been able to go 1 day without crying. This is 100% the worst thing I have ever witnessed and experienced in my life. I can't seem to shake the flashbacks and replaying every second of those 10 minutes in my head. I would not wish this pain on anyone. I spent the first 5 days in bed, not talking to anyone, not eating, not living. The next 3 days back to work were just filled with tears as everyone approached me with their "I'm sorry" hugs. Exactly 1 week after I lost Murphy, my Dad convinced me to go to therapy. I already have anxiety, and now it is tripled. The anxiety, depression, guilt, sadness, anger.. it's too much for me to cope with. I have never believed in therapy, but I knew I needed guidance. I have now been 3 times. Last weekend was the first time I drove other than to and from work. I drove to my boyfriend's 30 minutes away and had a breakdown the second I got there. I am truly scared driving. I stood outside for about 10 minutes to get myself together before I could go inside and see his dog. I was surprisingly happy to see her. The next day, I drove my car home. It was the first time I drove my car since I lost Murphy. I did not cry, but when I got home I had a raging headache and was very nauseous. Every time I get in or out of my car, I can't help but look at that back window and see Murphy's face. Last Sunday I went out with friends for the first time. I had to walk away twice to cry, but overall I did have fun, and I laughed. If someone asked me am I doing okay, I would say no, I'm not okay. I'm broken. I'm traumatized. But when I really sit and think, I am doing better than I was the day after 'it' happened. I take steps every day to be happy again. I am trying. Sometimes I need to be left alone, and sometimes I need to cry, but deep down I know I am trying. I have been told by many people, including my therapist, to write down my thoughts and feelings. Being an English and writing major I thought this would be easy, but I could not bring myself to do it. Not until I read OptionB and joined this website. I would appreciate any words of wisdom that anyone has to offer. Here is my handsome, beloved Murphy:
  3. Constance

    Guilt

    My dog Samson was a healthy happy friendly wonderful dog. I loved him tremendously. Since April 2015 he had a nasal congestion and reverse sneezing problem. Our vet tried for months to clear up his nasal condition with different medications none of which did very much. He felt Samson should go to a specialist for a rhinoscopy to see if he had polyps or something else in his nose. On October 21, 2015 I took him to the specialist in Largo Florida and what should have been a routine nasal scope with some anesthesia turned out to be something that killed Samson. The specialist made one mistake after the other and I lost my wonderful Sam. I wish I never took him for the test because now I don't have him anymore. How do I deal with this guilt? I wanted to get him some help and he died. I'm so sick over this.
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