Jerry's biopsy is tomorrow. Today I resorted to feeding him his cat food with a syringe. I watched him eat this morning and it took a long time to eat little. I had no idea how fast this whole thing would take over his mouth. His breath is foul. He's drooling all the time and I'm always wiping his mouth. He just looks for cuddles now and anytime I come out with a syringe, he scampers after me, knowing it's something he wants and I'm going to give it to him.
I just need to bloody know what his results are. What is this thing? Living in limbo with this is too hard. I hate everything about it. I just want my cat out of pain at this point and I need to know the correct action to take. I can't end his life until I know I must. I just can't, even though I know at this point many people wouldn't blame me. But I'd blame myself and I'd never get over it without having tried everything.
My days have become long and tedious. My sleep is poor, I smell Jerry's foul breath everywhere. I brush the crusty bits of his fur where he's attempted to groom. I push water into his mouth every few hours. I give him his codeine and Smokey his insulin (which thankfully are timed together). I feed Jerry and fret over his strong appetite and inability to eat all that he wants. I do my job at my computer. I get housework done during my breaks. I realize I've skipped meals. Leaving the house makes me worry and gives me relief.
Jerry is curled up on my outstretched legs. Occasionally I hear an unpleasant gurgling noise.
Another part of my day is periodically crying. I just need this to be over.