Decisions, decisions

Sometimes, being an adult sucks. Like, when you can't sleep until noon anymore, or eat ice cream right before bed. And sometimes it sucks even more. Like when you have to make really heavy decisions. Decisions you want no part of.

The crotchety old lady Sweet Pea is terrorizing in this image is one decision I wish I didn't have to make.
This cat was my 12th birthday present. She is now 17 years old. She is also very sickly.
We took her to the vet this week to have a gnarly growth on her toe looked at. It's hideous. So as not to squick anyone out too badly, I won't post the photo of the toe, but rather a link to it. As it turns out, the toe is the least of the cat's worries. (It's a bit of claw tissue - built up and burst out of the toe after 17 years.)
The vet offered to sedate her, and work the icky toe growth out. Then she discovered a bad heart murmur. No sedation for Bert, she wouldn't wake up again. Over the course of her exam, the vet also uncovered . . . wait for it . . . . a thyroid condition!! Lucky cat! The vet said it is a manageable condition, but she wouldn't suggest managing it due to . . . . The Kidney Tumour! which is apt to flare up and kill her in a rather painful, horrible way with virtually no notice.
So Bert is currently on antibiotics, to deal with the infection in her toe. We were advised that all we can really do is keep her comfortable at this point.
The vet will be calling on Monday to see how the cat is doing with her antibiotic. In that respect, she's doing really well. The infection has cleared up nicely (yes, I know to give her all the pills!). However, she's not been herself since that visit to the vet. She's losing her appetite. This may be a rare side-effect of the antibiotic, or it may be the kidney tumour. In either case, I think it's time to make the decision. I'll be making an appointment to have my 12th birthday present, my long-time companion, frustration, confidante, and lap rug euthanized. I really don't want her to go through the painful death the vet described.
Truth be told, it will be a bit of a relief. Bert has never been what one would call a good cat. She's a pee-er, a biter, fiercely aggressive and highly obnoxious. I think it's her personality that really endears her to me. And I wonder how much of that personality is due to her thyroid, and the tumour she's been harbouring.
I will miss her. I'm sure I'll cry for a few days. Hell, I'm crying now just thinking about it - and she's still sitting in my lap! I know it needs to be done. Her whole tummy is a firm mass. Still, I wish it were a call I didn't have to make.

Another decision I wish someone would make for me:
My return to work. I go back at the end of June/beginning of July. The details keep me awake at night. Will I go back full, or part time? Day or afternoon shift? Miss the day time with my girl, or miss her bed time? A lot of it is dependent upon finding the right daycare. Right now, the plan is that she will go to her Grandma's house. If that remains the plan, then I will go back part time days. If I find a daycare in town that I'm super happy with, I will go back full time afternoons. But then one little thing happens that turns all my planning on its ear. Tonight, Mr. Wonderful is taking some much deserved adult time with a friend of his. He missed Sweet Pea's bedtime. Usually his part in the routine is to change her diaper, and read her a story. Apparently, this is MIGHTILY important to that tiny girl.
I did her whole bedtime routine. She didn't go to sleep at the end, like usual. She sat on my lap and looked around, calling for her dad. Eventually I just put her in the crib, thinking she would fall asleep (she was exhausted). She had a half-hour meltdown! This is a seriously big deal for Sweet Pea who is typically so even-tempered and happy, people ask what drugs we have her on. She was screaming for her dad. Finally the only thing that would chill her out was another nursing session - and that was rough to do what with the sniffling and ragged gasping. When she eventually passed out, I just sat and rocked her for a while . . . wondering what the hell to do. In 2.5 months I'll be back to work -- I don't think I can miss her bed time. So much for my plan of working 1-9, and having 5 hours a day with her before work. Now what do I do?