The Hardest Thing

I woke up in a complete panic. It was early March, 2007 and in my sweat as I arose at 1:30 am, I knew something bad was going to happen. I actually knew it before then, but this was simply confirmation. I swore up and down at that precise moment that March 20th was going to be an awful day. I cried profusely. I felt my cries were upon deaf ears, and I then fell back asleep and the next few weeks progressed. My grandmother was in a car accident on Feb 4th, 2007. But on the night of March 1st, I knew the day that the end would start. How could I know that??

As I drove to Quitman on a beautiful March day weeks later, I was feeling a little optimistic. I was on my ~6th week of spending my weekend, and this time, my Spring Break in Georgia. I was tired, but also elated. I was on my way to see my grandma, and it didn't matter what else was in between. I was on the 'alternate interview list' at my vet school of choice. How fitting that on my way up to Georgia to visit my grandma, I get the call that I am going to be interviewed. I arrive in Georgia, glowing with great news. Who is the first person in my family to know? My grandma. I can't tell her enough about how excited I am, or how much this means to me. But after a few minutes, I clearly see how much this also means to hear. Celebration is in order. I clearly assure her that an interview does NOT mean acceptance. She declines that statement, by saying "I know you're in." I stay the whole day, and even late into the night by my standards (~10:00pm) talking with her. How awesome.

The next morning I arrive at 8:30 am. The first thing my grandma asks me is about my interview. She also tells me I need to go to prepare for it and I assure her it is 5 days away, and everything is perfect. I could not be more wrong.

At noon, the nurses tell me that her WBC count is high, ~ 4x normal and she must go back into the hospital. I look at my watch, and it's March 20th. I recognize the day, the day that I had dreamed of and had the panic attack about. I can not breathe, but somehow I am able to keep it together. She goes back into the hospital, into the ER. They want to run more tests. My grandma and I have a conversation about how she doesn't like me very much- she doesn't like me making her drink this stuff that they require to run just one more test. She tells me that she's going to make sure she repays that favor. We laugh, we joke, and that was the last laugh we had.

When they bring her back from testing, she is incohertent. I read my watch again. March 20th. There are going to be no more conversations with her. I, being completely non-religious seek any information. They kick me out of the ICU room, which is totally absurd. I ask again for guidance. And in my gut, I know all of the sudden March 22nd is the day. The day that will devastate me. The day that will completely ruin my heart. I also know that there is nothing that I can do to stop it.

I call my mother (her daughter) and I call my sister and tell them to get here soon. But I know that deep into my heart they have at least a day to do so. So the morning of the 22nd, I had to make the 'decision'. The decision of giving enough morphine to make the passing more comfortable. The day I knew that my grandmother's life should end. No one else could make that call, but I had to.

I interviewed 36 hours later at the vet school. It was an interview that should have never happened. I completely messed it up. It took me 2 more years to 'fix' that bad interview.

What a tough situation to be end:to help end the life of someone I loved more than life itself. My grandmother was EVERYTHING to me. When I looked into her eyes, I saw my own soul. I saw myself, and I know that she saw herself in me. We knew each other, and how we were feeling about everything in the world when we looked into each other's eyes. I know this may sound unusual, but I have no better way to describe it.

I know that I will never have that connection, ever again. It has been forever lost. Some people have a spouse as their soul mate....but mine was my grandma. I am fortunate enough to have dreams about her, and it does bring some comfort. In my dreams she tells me she is always with me, and everything is fine, but I am missing a part of my soul because she is not here with me.

And here I am, albeit 3 years later, in that school that she thought I was going to be accepted to. After 2 previous years of rejections......I guess I never did let go on the hope of being accepted to 'that' vet school, because she died thinking I would be there. I didn't want to let her down.

Some people ask me how hard it is being in vet school and it it hard .... but I assure you, it will never be the hardest thing.