Grief

I have had, as of last month, 5 cats, 2 dogs, a lizard, 4 foster cats and 2 foster dogs in my home at one time or another. Of the non-foster animals, all but one of my pets have died. Three of them have died in the past 8 months. The most recent one died 3 or 4 weeks ago (it's all a blur in my head), and I am drowning in grief.

To put it bluntly, a large part of my grief is due to the belief (false or not) that I failed my pet. Intellectually, I know that my pet died because he had horrible disease, and developed complication after complication thanks to that disease. But emotionally, I feel like I should have been able to save him. Or at least see his death coming. And maybe some small part of me expected him to die. But my heart was not ready, his death was a shock, and the manner of his death was gut wrenching.

I am glad that my family is able to embrace the new pet we have taken in. She is cute and sweet, and is highly entertaining.

I, however, am keeping her away from my heart. It is far from healed, and the only pet which comforts me right now is Ginger (pictured on the header), who was the companion of our recently deceased pet.

I find that my job as a veterinarian is made more difficult than I expected because the grief barges in, unannounced, just as I am trying to perform a physical exam on a patient, or when I am discussing a treatment plan with a client, or when I am asking my mentor for suggestions regarding a hospitalized patient. I cannot remember words or plans, my ability to multitask has disintegrated, and I question my medical judgement constantly.

I know that time will heal me, and I hope that my clients and colleagues will continue to give me the benefit of the doubt. Eventually I will recognize that I am a good veterinarian. After all, I can still save your pet. Just not my own.