Going Home

aww ~ march 23, 2014
non-subject: going home
***

November, 2013.

I received a voice mail from one of my former pet sitting clients.

"Hey Carol; this is Melanie. I realize you had to downsize your business back in August due to health issues, and I hope you are feeling better. But we've had something happen and I'm wondering if maybe you could help us out."

There was a pause in the voice mail, and then Melanie's voice continued with a slight tremor like she was holding back tears. "There's been a death in the family. If you are able to give me a call, I'd appreciate it. I have a new cell number." She left her new number on the voice mail.

Melanie's family owned five chihuahuas, a boxer, and a cat. They lived in another county and the drive to their home was out of my normal service area; I charged a bit extra due to the distance.

The elderly boxer, Cayman, had some health issues and sometimes would refuse his medication. I'd have to coax him with different foods in order to get him to swallow his pill. Sometimes he could be downright stubborn. Due to his age and failing health, he could get ornery. His forever growing-back cataracts could make him look scary. Yet, at heart, Cayman was a sweet dog, and I loved him.

The chihuahuas were entertaining, to say the least. Rascal would bark during much of my entire visit. Sometimes Rocky and Pita and Tanner would join in with Rocky making a chorus of yaps. Pita was the only one that ever really warmed up to me, wanting me to pick her up and love on her. She'd hop on her back feet, clap her front paws, and smile.

Mojo, the long-haired cat, stayed in the master bedroom with the door closed away from the canine crew. He was an affectionate cat and had the longest cat whiskers I'd ever seen.

I returned Melanie's call.

"Hey Carol," she answered the phone. "Thanks for calling back."

"Sure," I replied. "I heard your voice mail."

"Phillip died," she responded bluntly.

I was stunned. I had expected that maybe a grandparent had died or someone elderly. But not her 40-something year old husband.

Hearing her news, I immediately thought of another client who, some months earlier, had told me over the phone that one of their twin babies had recently died. When that other client had told me about the death of their almost-one-year-old twin, I felt time stop. The fragility of life so stark. Such news is sobering, shocking, unexpected, unbelievable.

"Oh my gosh Melanie; I am so sorry," I responded feeling a pit in my stomach and a hole in my heart. There was silence for a moment.

"When did it happen? If you don't mind me asking." I inquired, trying to be sensitive.

"In August," she said. Another pause.

"Do you want to share what happened?" I gently asked, not knowing quite sure what to say, yet wanting to acknowledge her pain.

Her voice quivered as the story poured out for the next twenty minutes.

Phillip had a heart condition, which was discovered back when he was in college and played basketball for Appalachian State. At that time, he underwent surgery and was told he'd need another surgery when he got older. He had the second surgery some 18 years later in his latter 30s and was told he wouldn't need the surgery again. With medical advancements since his first surgery, this second surgery had permanently fixed the heart malfunction.

Within a year or so of the second surgery, he noticed his heart beat would speed its pace, which was one of the symptoms of the condition which had been permanently fixed. But every time he went to get it checked, he was told all was normal...that he was just having some anxiety over it.

This happened off and on for a couple years...until August, 2013.

One night in August, like any other normal week night, Melanie and Phillip went to bed. Melanie awoke in the dark wee morning hours; Phillip was not in bed. She arose and went to the other room where she found Phillip seated. He was having the symptoms again. Melanie checked his pulse and it was a bit fast; she suggested they go to the hospital just to rule out anything bad. But Phillip declined and said it was okay; the symptoms were the same that he'd been having and every time he'd go get it checked, nothing was wrong.

Phillip and Melanie went back to bed. Phillip fell into a deep sleep. But Melanie, who was in nursing school, couldn't rest well. Drifting in and out of sleep, she checked Phillip's pulse rate throughout the dark morning hours. His pulse was normal each time she checked it.

Then around 5:30 AM the alarm went off.
Phillip sat straight up in bed.
Hollered three times while grabbing his chest.
And then fell out of bed onto the hardwood floor.
His heart had stopped.

Melanie grabbed her phone and called 911 as she rushed around to his side of the bed and began CPR. She performed CPR for thirty minutes until the ambulance arrived. Phillip came back to life momentarily and said, "I love you," and then died as Melanie tried to bring him back.

Kevin, Melanie and Phillip's five year old son, was in his room in the back of the house. Melanie thought Kevin would not have heard anything until the ambulance arrived. After the medics arrived, Melanie entered Kevin's room. His first words were, "Is Daddy dead?"

As Melanie told me the story, I sat on my end of the phone with tears trickling down my cheeks.

We talked a bit more about how she and Kenneth and the animals in the family were holding up and what her plans were.

She was moving back to her home place to be near her family in South Carolina. She was in process of building a small home on her family's land. She wondered if I was able to help with the pets until she could move at the beginning of April, 2014.

This upcoming last weekend of March, 2014, will be my final visit with the crew.
I'll see the 5 chihuahuas - Rocky, Pita, Rascal, Tanner and Lola.
I'll see the cat, Mojo.

But I won't see Cayman, the boxer.
He died within the last couple weeks.