I have to apologize for the following nonsensical venting of emotions.
I needed to write it, not for any return comments, but just knowing that
some understanding ears will hear.
 
Today I broke down and cried in an ultrasound clinic after getting the
estimate for my ferret Jillie.  When the doctor came to talk to me he
assumed I was worried about Jillie and the procedure (she was having some
cysts in her abdomen aspirated).  I was concerned to have her sedated,
but I knew it was a pretty noninvasive procedure.  I was too shamed to
tell him I was crying over the cost.  Don't get me wrong, my ferrets are
my babies, and they (and their health) are my priorities.  Otherwise I
wouldn't be at the ultrasound clinic for the third time this year.
 
But for the past two years I've been a regular at the vets with two of
my ferrets.  It's hard to accept that at 6 they are considered old, not
to me.  They're still my babies.  But sometimes it just feels like an
endless cycle of exams, x-rays, ultrasounds and bloodtests.  One test
just seems to lead to anyother.  It's a cycle that never seems to end
in a complete diagnosis or cure.  Perhaps I should look at it as health
management, but I dont' feel like I'm getting my ferrets healthier.
 
I don't begrudge the money, I care about them, not about dollars.  But
sometimes there is an emotional breaking point as reality sets in.
Sometimes the money is just not there.  Every time I get a bill payed
off a new set of ferret medical expenses is on the next credit card
statement.  And I'm not getting them new things to make their short lives
more exciting.  Extra bedding that I bought and set aside for them was
sent to shelters because it's all I could do when I wanted to help.
 
I know this will pass, and really all I want is to have my ferrets.  But
I feel like I'm failing them.  Sitting in that office suddenly realizing
I could barely afford to care for Jillie.  How do you look at medical
options as options, when all you want is to do whatever it takes for your
little one.  I guess you do it, sitting in an ultrasound clinic crying.
Not because of worry over care your little one is getting in the next
room, but because you don't know how you'll keep doing it.
 
Can't really turn for emotional support from family and friends.  They
don't get it, they don't understand.  But since crying in the clinic
was pretty pathetic just thought maybe I'd get out what I'm feeling on
the fml.
 
But here I've been stewing the evening away in my own little pity pool,
when reading the fml brings out how much others are doing despite limited
resources.  I have always been awed and amazed at shelter operators for
their dedication.  For how much of their efforts, their lives, and
themselves that they put into rescue.  But now, after getting my own
monetary slap in the face, I'm even more astounded.  They are surely made
of something very special.  And after my hands stop shaking I'm sure I
can find a small donation to make.  Because in the end although sometimes
we can barely help ourselves, together we can help others.  And somehow
that's all shelters do everyday.
 
I haven't entered in a shelter fundraiser in so long.  And the fml has
been full of rescue stories and e-bay fundraisers.  If you can make a
bid or enter a raffle, please do.
[Posted in FML issue 4838]