Why I can't stop crying...
I have really horrible health. I have seizures, spinal arthritis, kidney stones, an immune system that is in constant rebellion, and a reproductive system that won't let me carry a child to term. One of the ways I've coped with life, dealing with the pain and frustration and so on, is by raising dwarf hamsters. They're sweet, fuzzy, cute, they are wonderful pets and I love them. I'm sad whenever one dies, of course, but I know that I've given them an excellent life - lots of healthy AND tasty food, big clean cages and time to play on the floor or out in the yard, vet visits if needed, tons of love and attention. I can generally mourn their passing and then just... move on.
The day before yesterday I had a seizure. It was kind of sudden, usually I know when to expect them and this one caught me off-guard. I was walking past the cage of a charming little guy we'd named Kumquat, since he was the only hammie who would eat bits of it if we shared, the rest seemed to find it too sour. Anyway, I was walking past, I turned to look at him, and down I went. I knocked his cage over, sent it flying...
...when my partner was sure I hadn't cracked my head open or anything and went to check on the hamster, Kumquat looked like maybe he'd hurt his leg a bit - he was using it, but limping slightly. Other than that he seemed ok. I checked up on him a couple of times after that, and he seemd kinda shaken up, didn't want to come out, but I swear he seemed more just in shock than unhealthy or injured. Late last night when I went to check up on him again he was lying beside his water dish, he wouldn't move. He was still breathing when I picked him up, and while he was held he made an effort to move around, would hobble around a little bit, but he wasn't moving right, his eyes wouldn't open, he was gasping for each breath.
We tried four different places before we found a vet open at that hour who would treat hamsters. All she could say was that it looked like maybe he'd broken a rib, or punctured a lung, or had some other internal damage. It would have cost around $400-$500 to treat him and even then she wasn't sure he'd pull through. I can't work, and my partner only just started working again, we've been living on a shoestring budget. There was no way we could afford that out of the blue, and the vet wanted payment up front.
We had to put him to sleep.
We buried him in one of our favorite places. I know he had a good life, I know we did what we could, I know we made the right choice.
I also know that I killed him, my stupid seizures killed him, and I'm going to have to find other homes for my other hammies. Until now I thought it was ok, that even when I was sick m'love would make sure they had food and water and were taken care of, that even when my seizures or back made it so I couldn't give them hand time or floor time there would still be soneone to do it. Now? I've spent the last few hours crying because I will miss them so much but I can't justify keeping them when I know that I can't keep them safe from ME.
I don't... I really don't know how to cope with this. I'm posting here because I have to talk about it somewhere or I'm going to implode, self-destruct. I'm not expecting any comments or anything. I just needed to actually write it out, in the hope that it'll make it easier to start accepting this. I can't even talk about it aloud, I start crying so hard it sends my back into spasms, it's... less harsh, somehow, writing it.
I apologize if I upset anyone. I'm sorry.
I wish I could stop crying.