There are times when you have to admit defeat

For two years minus three weeks I have fought the unevitable, have stuffed a vast number of pills and globules, teas and other drugs into my cat in the hope that one day her epilepsy might vanish as sudden as this sickness had popped up. Valium was the miracle cure, even when she was out for a day as a result. Last June she had an acute seizure, vomiting blood all of a sudden, but our vet pulled her through, prescribing new medication that would prolong the time between those seizures. It did work, at first that is. No more vomiting blood fortunately. Then, one day my cat did not gorge the food as usual, but hid in the cat carrier. Two weeks later, she was vomitting violently but was okay soon after, repeating the stunt two weeks later on Christmas Eve, this time loosing urine. I knew then that her seizures were not as severe as before, but came more frequently. Yesterday morning I found her in her cat basket, cramping, struggling for breath. I gave her her standard dose of Valium and waited. No change, the cramping did not cease. Plus she was vomiting blood again, a lot of blood. I gave her another dose of medication, to no avail. The cramping and vomitting got worse and I knew that we had to let her go. This morning our vet  put her to sleep. How I feel? Numb, that´s the appropriate paraphrase. Currently I am binning her meds. There still are two other cats in our house, but, after two years of intensive care, I was too attached to our sickly cat lady, who only ended up in our household because she was almost blind in one eye and would not have survived on the farm, even if it is stated that cats can easily adjust that manko. That´s a lie, I´d say. Countless smashed potted plants, figurines and crockery are a testament to it. When Nienna decided to jump, everything went to pieces. I´ll miss you, little Lady in Black!