You have my condolences also. I can definitely relate to the pain you are feeling.
When I lost my English Cocker, her name was Chevy, I was devastated. She was only 6 years old. At just 10 months old, she developed epilepsy. The first time I saw her "seize" I totally freaked out. I remember it like it was yesterday, even though it has been almost 10 years ago now, and occurred on Mother's Day. The vet put her on phenobarbitol and as she got older the dosage had to be increased. We even had to watch out for the "full moon" because she seemed more susceptible to having seizures then.
Anyway, less than a week before she died, she was having very frequent seizures even with the increased dosage of medication. We took her to the vet and discovered she also had an enlarged heart. Both the epilepsy and the enlarged heart were feeding each other. Within a couple of days, and less than two weeks before Christmas, my son came home from school to find that she had "passed".
I had actually taken a couple of days off from work to stay with her, hoping she would improve. Since I had not done ANY Christmas shopping at all by that time, I decided I would leave for a couple of hours to shop for the boys. I wasn't even gone for two hours! I felt so guilty that she died alone. After talking with some friends of mine, it was a small consolation when they said that she was probably waiting for me to leave so that she could pass by herself. Still, I was deeply depressed (I'm even tearing up now thinking about it).
My husband, even the jerk that his is sometimes, was really worried about me. Even though we said when we lost her that we wouldn't get another dog right away, someone had suggested that we do just that. So even though my husband "seemed" really against it, I found a Beagle breeder fairly close to us, and I went by myself to go see a litter they just had. My husband was quite surprised that I came home empty-handed, and confided that he thought for sure that I would have a new puppy with me. I said, "She isn't ready yet silly!"
I went back up less than two weeks later, and the day before Christmas Eve, brought home our Beagle pup, Shelbi. Oh boy, was she a feisty little pup, but it was what the doctor ordered for me 'cuz I needed to be able to divert my attention off of my Chevy. Shelbi was supposed to be MY dog, but now, of course, is HIS best buddy. Go figure.
She got sick about six months ago and, without sending her to a specialist, couldn't figure out what was wrong with her. Our vet thought that she possibly had a cervial spine disease and put her on pain medication and steroids. Come to find out she had bladder stones, had surgery, and, thank God, she's back to her perky little Beagle self.
Since my husband and I have been separated, she lives in our house with him. But when I go to see my son, she greets me with her tail a-waggin.
Just thought I'd share that.