Facing Heaven.

Its 12.34am. Funny. I always find such little things funny.

Its 1 minute past that now. I should be in bed, preparing for yet another long day of work. I don't dread work. I like the challenge it has given me, the pressure, the desire to succeed, even excel over my peers.

It's a very empty feeling that fills so many of us.

Today, I've have to come to terms with facing death. Not my own. But death. Loss. Saying goodbye for good.

My cat is sick, terribly so, and no medicine will cure her. It is confirmed, that it is now but a matter of time till she will come to the end of her life. Right now even, she could be gone from us. The nice vet at Companion Animal Clinic was struggling. I could see that. Telling people that he could not save their beloved pet must be one of the hardest things about his job. He's not comfortable with it. I appreciate that. It should never be comfortable.

When she survives the operation tonight to remove the liquid that has built up in her chest cavity, she will be observed for a day. If all goes well, she will be back in our home by Friday.

That's how it was the last time. We came home, full of hope, with the medicine and prayers that she would be all well. Even after the echocardiogram that confirmed her future life would be a difficult one ("a very pretty cat with a very sick heart" she said..), we still soldiered on, waking early, grabbing poor Lavie, and stuffing medicine down her throat.

Now... I'm not so sure.

When, and if, Lavie comes home, we are faced with this fact. That no matter what we do, the same thing will happen, the liquids will build up in her chest, her breathing become belaboured, and she will stand once again on the precipice of death unless we get her to a vet again.

The problem is... we can't afford it anymore. This second operation is happening but a month plus from the prior one... and that drained our resources quite throughly. We could barely pay the downpayment today. Even if we could, how much more money could we pump into what may become a bimonthly operation? Her fur had barely grown out since the last time it was shaved!

The only way to postpone, to lengthen the times between these expensive procedures is to feed her medicine, pills which she hates so terribly. Over the last few weeks Lavie has become increasingly resistant against being fed medicine, often forcing them out with her tongue, which, perhaps, may have resulted in what we're seeing now; a sudden increase in the fluid in her chest cavity from her heart problem.

Each time we feed her medicine, she grows that little bit more depressed and distant from us. In recent days, ever since she came back, she's eaten little, played less, and been away from us more and more.

I believe if we stop feeding her medicine, she will feel happier, and be more inclined to enjoy her final days as it is. But how long will that be? A month? A week? A few days? We have no way to tell...

We're facing her death, and the date has been placed in our hands. Do we want to let her pass quickly, but happily, no longer facing the fear of being forced to eat bitter powders and things stuck down her throat? Do we keep trying, making her unhappy each morning and night but extending her life? The end draws near either choice we make, its just a matter of how long more.

I'm... lost. D burst into tears once we were alone. I comforted her as I could, but we both know the decision draws near. I don't know how J feels. I know M will be really sad, and i don't really care what F thinks at this moment.

I'm more for her being happy. Go crazy buying her expensive food. Play with her all I can. Groom and comfort her. No more torture of medicine. No more excursions to strange cold places with unfamiliar people. Let her days be brief, but bright and beautiful. I will have to talk to the rest to know what they think.

I'm facing heaven now, and while I thank God for the time He's given to us with her, my heart is heavy knowing what is to come. I pray and I hope and wish to summon that kind of faith that brings miracles. But I don't know how to keep living in that hope while still accepting reality.

Lord, have mercy on us.