Simple Living and a Cat

Ginger in her Happy Place

My son has been reminding me of how far we have gotten from our simple Christian living roots. Namely, we  recently paid to have our windows washed and to have our dead trees taken down. These are things we might have done ourselves in younger days (and when living in places where the trees and windows weren't scarily high). We still tend to be do-it-yourselfers for most maintenance, but we also are a little more willing to hire things done. It often becomes a matter of choosing between the economics of money and the economics of time. Hence, the struggling with our desire to be simple living Christians and our need to stay sane in our fast-paced world of careers and activities.

But it was our 16-year-old kitty Ginger who this week has highlighted for me the complexities of the choices we make, how (more often than not) the lines get blurred, and that our choices are rarely as clear as black-and-white. It was not her ability to relax or play when there is work to do, or to enjoy bacon although she is already portly. Though, those aspects of her personality do remind me to stop and smell the roses from time to time. Instead, it is that she is currently deathly ill and spending her second night at the vet's office in hopes of reviving her a bit to bring her home and enjoy a little more time with her. And the question of the week is, when do you stop paying to save a life? The economics of the value of the life of a cat are glaring me in the face right now. On the one hand, I love her dearly and am missing so much her begging round my feet while I fix dinner or rubbing on my ankles while I comb my hair in the morning. On the other hand, she is suffering greatly and in pain with pancreatitis, and antibiotics and IV fluids and meds have failed to improve her situation in the last 24 hours, though she at least is not worsening. And while I have shed tears over her rapid demise, I also have wondered: how much is this costing me? And how much more am I willing to spend?

Sadly, though I am asking (and have the luxury to ask) this question about a cat, many folks have to ask this question about their health care. And I'm talking about right here, with my own patients. I will often finish an evaluation and recommend a treatment plan, only to have the patient ask, how many times do I have to come back? how much will it cost me? can we stretch it out a bit or can I come less often and still get some benefit out of it? Because they are counting the dollars of their co-pay versus getting groceries or paying for gas for the week, and wondering if their last paycheck will come and if it will be enough, and when they can feel well enough to get back to work and get another paycheck. So the economics of life often get in the way of our altruistic ideas of what we would like to do to save a life, return a person to function, improve the quality of life, etc. How hard must it be for those who have to make economic decisions about the health care of a loved one? Just some more musings that are all mixed up in my contemplation tonight. Sigh.

I am having a hard time deciding what to do about my kitty - after all, I firmly believe that if you take a pet you are committed to them through thick and thin for life. I don't want to ditch on her. Nor do I want her to suffer. Nor do I want a $3000 vet bill. I don't know what the answer is. But I keep struggling forward. I want to be a simple living Christian, a good wife and mom, and a good pet owner. And I do try to make these decisions remembering grace, mercy, and love as the first rule. Just as I most assuredly need the grace and mercy of a loving God tonight.