Two more days and I am freaking out. There is this selfish person down inside of me that is screaming at the top of their bloody lungs. I want to call the vet. I want to tell him that I’ve changed my mind. The surgery is just too risky. Others have refused to do it. What if in this attempt to help my baby, what if I kill her instead? Am I sending my baby to the slaughter? Is dieing during a surgery similar to euthanasia?
I don’t know what the right thing to do is? Toothless is eating and drinking. She’s very stiff, but mobile. She takes her meds. I give her essiac tea and frankensense. Her days are spent in a soft bed by the window in Deedee’s room. Sometimes I bring her into my room. She keeps a soft black mouse toy at her front paws to bat at. She loves it when we all crowd around her to give her attention. She chirps. She purrs.
The latest X Ray shows that the tumor is still there. It has not grown much from when we originally saw it. What if it has stopped growing? I just don’t know.