Yes, friend, I have a happy story for you - in a sense, because it’s also a sad story. And while it’s not a child, it is the closest thing I have to that - my dog. My sweet black lab with walnut colored eyes, and the kindest soul I’ve ever known.
A few months ago she began having difficulty getting around. This wasn’t surprising - she’s a 12-year-old lab after all. But these little problems became bigger problems very quickly. For potty breaks I’d take her out with a helper harness, and some days she wasn’t doing any of the work walking with her back legs on her own. Then I noticed a bump on her leg, then her chest... So we brought her to the vet. They prescribed anti-inflammatories and a steroid, did some tests and found nothing terribly specific... until her last visit, on Friday, when they told us she has cancer.
Again, this isn’t a surprise, I’m very cognizant of the all-too-short duration of a dog’s life, and the many health problems that take them from us. Given that, we’re not doing chemo, or surgery, or anything other than palliative care. Her pain is being managed, and we’re going to start weekly hydo-therapy appointments to keep her as active as we can. Something I know she’ll love, because she is every bit a lab and adores being in the water.
Because I am sober, I was able to ask the vet if he thought I was prolonging her life for myself. He told me he didn’t think I was, she’s a sweet girl who still has all the interest in the world in playing, snuggling, sniffing, and all other dog-approved activities, she’s just dealing with some pain, which we can treat, and loss of mobility, which we can assist if we so choose (and I very much so choose). I also asked him realistically how long I have left with her before we’ll be making the hard decisions, and was told six months to a year.
Because I am sober, and have spent time getting my shit together on my sobriety journey and have been successfully holding down and performing at my job the last 6 months, I was able to find a house to rent, and get out of our crap-box apartment. This summer my girl will have a backyard to nap and play in. I have plans to take her to all the easy-to-access river and lakeside beaches this summer, and given I’m in Michigan, there are lots of those. Her favorite foods will be made, and trips to get toys will be many.
I will always carry the guilt of the multiple years I let her down. The times I forgot to give her dinner, and remembered at 4 am, or even later. For all the times I had the nerve to get mad at her for going potty in the house when I was the one who hadn’t taken her out. For all the playtimes I didn’t give her. For all the times I downright failed her.
But I’ve been sober for 2 years now, and we’ve spent all that time together. And I’m able to be here for her now, at the end, fully present, and allowing myself to feel. I had so many false-starts. So many streaks, and relapses, and made so many mistakes, but I have to believe (for my own sanity) that she knows how much I love her and how sorry I am for everything I failed to give her. And I hope she knows that this me, this version of her mom, is who I really am, and that it is enough.
Thanks for letting me get this all out, even if it ended up being much longer than I expected. I believe in you OP, and IWNDWYT <3