I'm not good at facing unpleasant things. I tend to put them off until I absolutely cannot figure another way to avoid facing them.
I'm also notoriously awful at asking for help.
I have a situation now where both Fluff and Sleek need surgeries for different things. Fluff needs to have a tooth removed, and Sleek has a lump in her groin that needs to be removed. Both dogs are geriatric. Both are from breeds that often have issues with anesthesia. Sleek has a serious heart murmur, making her even trickier to anesthetize. The pre-op bloodwork hasn't been done yet, so something else could crop up with that, too.
How do I face the fact that it is entirely possible that either dog could die on the table? This writing is actually the first time I'm acknowledging that Fluff could react badly on the table and die. Mostly I'm concentrating on how I don't know how to face this chance with Sleek because a) she has more things going against her in the anesthesia department; and b) because she is, frankly, my Next-Best Girl. Fluff is my Best Girl. Period, end of story. She has been my Best Girl since the day she came home from the shelter, and she will continue to be my Best Girl at least until the day she dies, may it be several years away, and probably will be my Best Girl even after her death.
I know death is only a transition. Only the body dies, not the soul. And I know my dogs have souls. It may be that they feel their work or play here is done and they are ready to move on. Fluff will stay in touch with me, and I think I'll see her in corporeal form again after the current corpus ceases to amuse her. Sleek may have other agendas to pursue beyond my happiness and education, so I may not see her again in my current lifetime.
But how do I work the current situation? How do I visualize them in perfect health and hold that image in my heart as they go into surgery when I also know I may be saying goodbye?