What a weekend

It's been a rough weekend. Yesterday at one point Jane put her head down in the her blanket, face down, and started to breath harder. Both Rus and I thought she was going to die right then. Rus thought perhaps she had just given up and had decided to go. We both sat there quietly. I finally got up to go to the kitchen. I didn't want Rus to know what I was thinking. I didn't want him to see my crying. I have been very upset and stressed about Jane, but since I have been at work and with Wyatt so much I hadn't really allowed myself a good cry. We only admitted later that we were both thinking that this was it.

Jane continued to refuse most food through Saturday. We got a little half and half in her last night. Then this morning a tiny bit of baby food mixed with butter she licked off my finger. Rus also tried syringe feeding her. Most of the day she refused anything, but water.

Rus and I decided to talk about what we would do it her refusal to eat continued. We don't want to see her starve herself to death. We decided staying at the vet overnight again was just going to stress her out more and we don't want her remaining time here to be bad. We talked about how Rus got Jane. How Puff died. How Jane was as a kitten. I told Rus how lucky Jane is that he found her. We talked about what a good life Jane has had.

We talked about how we had not given up on her. Rus went to the store for Catsure, cat food, whipped cream and more baby food. Anything we could think of. Anything we found mentioned online.

We continued to offer her water throughout the day. Rus administered her infusion. He brushed her and held her. We just waited. In the afternoon, we took Wyatt to the mall, because it was raining, and to give Jane some space and quiet. I wasn't sure what we would return to. She was still lying in her favorite spot when we got back. I could see she was breathing.

I went in to the kitchen to feed Wyatt dinner and Rus opened a can of Fancy Feast. He put a small portion of food on a saucer and a little Catsure in a bowl and went out to feed Jane. I peaked around the corner to check on them and to my amazement Jane seemed to be eating out of Rus' hand. Then I hear Rus asking me to bring the rest of the can.

So Jane ate. Not the whole can, but it's a start. She also had some Catsure. She seems to have perked up a bit. She finally made a meow that actually sounded like Jane and not some sick cat.

Later, after Wyatt went to bed, my mom called to remind me about the court date tomorrow. She wasn't sure given all that was going on, if I would want to write a victim impact statement. I had started one some four months ago. I was able to find that in my email and edit it. I am certainly not a great writer. I can be too succint, which makes me a good data analyst, but a writer.

It is strange that I am having an easier time writing about Jane then my own brother. But what I am writing about Jane is largely a play-by-play of the last few days. Writing about how your brother's death has impacted you is a far different thing. Writing about your life with him, your childhood together . . . I find my mind wants to shutdown. I don't even want to admit that David is dead. I still stupidly believe that David could be down in Long Beach, in his apartment, living his life. I have seen him dead. Seen my brother lying in a coffin. Felt him cold. I just can't accept he is gone though.

When we were down in Long Beach for the tree planting, and there were so many people around, I felt myself completely checking out. The whole thing was surreal. Why were these people at my parents' house? Where was David? Why wasn't he there? I watched his friend, Mike get emotional and felt him cry on my shoulder. I wondered why I wasn't crying. Nothing seemed to make sense. It was all disorienting. It wasn't until I went to sleep that Sunday night that I felt David's death come crashing back on me again. Remembered the Eric's phone call, the disbelief. Remembered Eric asking me to talk to mom and dad and thinking, "oh god, please don't ask me to do that. I can't." I remembered talking to my mom and feeling like I was having an out of body experience. I remember my brain shutting down on me and needing to get off the phone. What the fuck was Eric calling to tell me? It was impossible. It wasn't true.

Everytime I see my mom. Everytime I go down to Long Beach. Everytime I stand with Eric and Chris it seems true. Some part of me knows it is true, but some part of me feels like David is just missing for a while and will be back. He was always late. He disappeared from time to time. I am just going to continue to believe that for a while.