I am having a really difficult time with the loss of my Guinea pig. I spent a week alone trying to save him. It was unexpected. I didn’t get to say goodbye and he didn’t get to say goodbye to his cagemate. I tried repeatedly to get help from vets and they didn’t do nearly enough and I didn’t vet them nearly enough. And my final experience with a vet was rather humiliating and traumatic.
But the hardest part right now is the hindsight. The times he asked me for help and I missed it. The pain he must have been in. One time something I did even caused him to pass out I think because of the tumor. And I keep seeing all these images in my head. I know I didn’t know but I definitely could have and should have done more to find out. I should have responded more to his body language. Pushed more with the vets. Read and researched more. There is so much more I should have done. I think in the earlier stages it might have been treatable. And if not, at least he would have gotten proper pain relief and been able to say goodbye.
I already have ptsd. I think this nature of his death was traumatic for me. I’m having intrusive thoughts related to his death and the events leading up to it. Getting mental health support really isn’t an option. I’m assuming this is crossing from normal grieving to something pathological, but I’m not positive.
I try to tell myself I didn’t know and was acting on the information I had at the time. But I don’t feel that is entirely true. I was too passive. Too distracted. I didn’t manage my money as well as I could have. I didn’t take the time to problem solve. I didn’t watch his body language enough. I can’t help but think about it from his perspective. The pain. The frustration at my not understanding. The desperation for help. How alone he must have felt on his final night.
He was biting me during nail trims and I think it was because of pain due to the tumor. I yelled at him a couple times because it hurt so much and I couldn’t make him stop then started praising him moving forward after he stopped doing it. I felt guilty when I yelled at him then and even worse now understanding why he did it. I thought he had arthritis. I thought I was cutting his nails too short. He kept biting and drawing blood. I thought maybe it was old age. I got loxicom for the pain but the vet didn’t prescribe it correctly. I think the dose was too low and she only had me give it to him once a day. I stopped trimming his nails so short. But I didn’t ask for testing confirming the source of the pain. And the vet didn’t offer until it was far too late.
One time he bit and pulled hard on his little foot on the same side as the tumor. The other time he got floppy and his lips were pale, and I think it was blocking his ability to breathe and maybe he was even passing out. I thought the food just made them look pale and he seemed fine after. I thought maybe he just moved his body that way and I overreacted. I noticed how large he was and even wondered if it was normal. I thought he was just fat. There were a few times at the end I didn’t handle him as carefully as I should have because of the exhaustion and panic—not being rough with him but being careless and not careful enough.
I just feel like my attempts to save him in the last week made him worse. I just feel like I failed him in so many ways. I have no one to support me in person and not much support through text. I left the vet knowing I would be an hour away and knowing he was quite unwell. I knew the vet was giving inconsistent information and I chose to trust the more positive version instead of staying there with him.
I feel like I’m so stuck on this and can’t move past it. Maybe it’s too soon and is only day 3. Any time I try to focus on the positive memories a negative one sneaks in.
He was such a sweet boy. I could have and should have done better for him.
But the hardest part right now is the hindsight. The times he asked me for help and I missed it. The pain he must have been in. One time something I did even caused him to pass out I think because of the tumor. And I keep seeing all these images in my head. I know I didn’t know but I definitely could have and should have done more to find out. I should have responded more to his body language. Pushed more with the vets. Read and researched more. There is so much more I should have done. I think in the earlier stages it might have been treatable. And if not, at least he would have gotten proper pain relief and been able to say goodbye.
I already have ptsd. I think this nature of his death was traumatic for me. I’m having intrusive thoughts related to his death and the events leading up to it. Getting mental health support really isn’t an option. I’m assuming this is crossing from normal grieving to something pathological, but I’m not positive.
I try to tell myself I didn’t know and was acting on the information I had at the time. But I don’t feel that is entirely true. I was too passive. Too distracted. I didn’t manage my money as well as I could have. I didn’t take the time to problem solve. I didn’t watch his body language enough. I can’t help but think about it from his perspective. The pain. The frustration at my not understanding. The desperation for help. How alone he must have felt on his final night.
He was biting me during nail trims and I think it was because of pain due to the tumor. I yelled at him a couple times because it hurt so much and I couldn’t make him stop then started praising him moving forward after he stopped doing it. I felt guilty when I yelled at him then and even worse now understanding why he did it. I thought he had arthritis. I thought I was cutting his nails too short. He kept biting and drawing blood. I thought maybe it was old age. I got loxicom for the pain but the vet didn’t prescribe it correctly. I think the dose was too low and she only had me give it to him once a day. I stopped trimming his nails so short. But I didn’t ask for testing confirming the source of the pain. And the vet didn’t offer until it was far too late.
One time he bit and pulled hard on his little foot on the same side as the tumor. The other time he got floppy and his lips were pale, and I think it was blocking his ability to breathe and maybe he was even passing out. I thought the food just made them look pale and he seemed fine after. I thought maybe he just moved his body that way and I overreacted. I noticed how large he was and even wondered if it was normal. I thought he was just fat. There were a few times at the end I didn’t handle him as carefully as I should have because of the exhaustion and panic—not being rough with him but being careless and not careful enough.
I just feel like my attempts to save him in the last week made him worse. I just feel like I failed him in so many ways. I have no one to support me in person and not much support through text. I left the vet knowing I would be an hour away and knowing he was quite unwell. I knew the vet was giving inconsistent information and I chose to trust the more positive version instead of staying there with him.
I feel like I’m so stuck on this and can’t move past it. Maybe it’s too soon and is only day 3. Any time I try to focus on the positive memories a negative one sneaks in.
He was such a sweet boy. I could have and should have done better for him.
the last piggy I lost was a couple of months ago and to thus day I wish I could go back and do things different, had I not hospitalised her she might still be here..she also may have had a less pleasant passing. Unfortunately we don't have crystal balls, so when these thoughts creep in, I repeat to myself that I did my best. I had the best intentions. I am only human. Eventually I start believing it.
I’m still struggling but it seems to be improving. I’m still worried about the remaining pig, though, and what to do with him. I love the idea of short-term adoption, but the other issue is that I might be moving to a new country soon and that will take months if it happens which means he has quite a lot of time alone. All of this just happened at such bad timing. I considered trying to find something similar to doggy daycare so he can at least spend some time with other pigs each week, but I feel like due to bonding and those things that this might not exist. Also, Ireland isn’t very pig friendly in the sense that it’s hard to find items for them and the like so I feel like this might be a challenge, too.