I arrived back from holiday yesterday. Four days in Copenhagen with my sister, followed by a week in Northern Germany alone. I had a good time, mostly. Europe is pretty expensive, especially Denmark. But there was lots to see and do.
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The journey back was a big mess. My flight was cancelled which meant I was facing an extra night in Germany, and I would have to pay as they would compensate, but not pay out immediately. I was stressed. I didn’t have the money for a hotel. I didn’t want to stay longer- I had Japanese class tonight and am due back at work tomorrow. In the end my father found a cheap enough flight to book me on to get me back. I phoned my original airline and they said they may compensate that too so fingers crossed they do.
The new flight wasn’t direct like my original flight, but compromised of two short flights and a small layover. The first flight was packed and uncomfortable. The second was emptier so ok. I was on the aisle, the middle seat was free, and someone else was at the window. A good arrangement. I didn’t like the way it felt- taking off, then pretty much landing again straightaway, then taking off, then another landing after a tiny cruising time. It didn’t feel good. But at least I was going home.
I spent the night at my parents then travelled again today to get back to my flat. I was so happy to see my fish. I lay down in that room to rest and be close to them before class. I am quite tired out. Holidaying is surprisingly draining.
Of course, I was also looking forward to getting back so I could see my little cat, who is still very sick.
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It’s very obvious my cat is dying.
She looks so very tired. When you stroke her, you can feel her bones. She felt very fragile under my hands earlier today, and I was almost afraid to pet her. We don’t pick her up anymore. These days, she isn’t around us much anyway. She won’t come indoors. She seems to be going a little feral as the end nears. Even in the pouring rain, she is to be found outside. She will allow you to approach her and pet her, purrs even, but only for short amounts of time. She used to come in every time we were in the kitchen, and whine for food, winding her way around our legs and getting in the way. She doesn’t anymore. She is still eating, but mostly wet food and in small amounts. She isn’t interested in food anymore. Not like she used to be (she used to be such a greedy cat!) I feel she knows she is dying. I feel she is quietly resting and preparing herself for the end. Someone told me animals don’t have the same emotional attachment to life that we do, that they therefore don’t feel the same anxiety around death. I find that reflected in my cat. She seems to have accepted that her end is near. She seems calm. She just seems tired and a little uncomfortable. It’s upsetting to watch her quietly dying like this. I want to do something for her, anything, to make it better. Just so she can breathe normally, so she won’t purr in such a stilted way, so she won’t feel so breakable, so she won’t look so exhausted. There’s nothing we can do and that’s the frustrating thing. All we can do is give her space. We take her to the vets every two weeks. At first he gave us pills to give to her to help her to breathe, but she grew too resistant, it was stressing her out too much forcing her to take them, so the vet gave her an injection last appointment instead so we don’t have to do that anymore. At the next appointment she may receive another injection, or the vet may tell us it’s time to let her go. We don’t know. We are all of us waiting for the end, in different ways. It’s horrible.
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Tomorrow, back to work. I’ve been feeling disoriented since just before my second flight, as I began to hear people speaking in a) English and b) British accents again. The feeling hadn’t gone away yet. I feel like I’ve been away for ages. I’m not sure how I’m going to function tomorrow…