My Precious Albus Options

[Hermy's Mommy]

I apologize for my lengthy post. I am all over the place and rambling.

I am devastated, again. I lost my sweet bunny Albus suddenly on Tuesday, March 24, 2015. He was the most precious little white and gray, mixed Netherland Dwarf and English Spot rabbit. I adopted him (along with his sister Hermione) on June 27, 2008 from a rescue organization when he was 6 weeks old. He was my best friend. I lost his sister, Hermione (Hermy), on November 18, 2011, and it destroyed me.

I shouldn’t have taken Albus to the vet last Friday, March 20, 2015. It was a mistake. I will regret it forever.

Albus was diagnosed with sludgy bladder syndrome on November 19, 2013 and received daily bladder expression and medications until his major bladder surgery on December 11, 2013 for bladder stones. He survived surgery and even thrived over the next 15 months. He tolerated his bi-weekly and monthly follow-up visits well, including x-rays, ultrasounds, and bladder expression. His visit on December 16, 2014 was uneventful, except for a new heart murmur that the vet said was so minor he could live years and years with it. The vet recommended follow-up in 3 months for bladder catheterization under anesthesia.

He was doing so well until the vet saw him on Friday, March 20. He was healthy and active, eating, pooping, peeing, playing, sleeping, running, jumping, taking his medications without complaint, doing everything he loved, eating his lettuce, carrots, banana and watermelon (his favorite!). He was urinating freely and comfortably. He was living life and spending his days as the perfect little bun.

I should have done everything differently. I should have picked up his medications, cancelled the appointment, and gone home with him, still alive and well. The vet examined his entire body and said he was doing well. Then he focused on the bladder, squeezing hard to try to express some urine. Immediately, he reacted with pain. He struggled to escape the vet’s hold on him. He was flailing around in his hands, air-pedaling his legs. The vet pressed harder on his bladder. He tried squeezing as Albus was standing on all fours on the exam table. Nothing came out. He squeezed harder. Albus continued to react with pain. One drop of urine came out.

Albus was left in tremendous pain. He immediately bent over and started to lick his penis, then straightened himself and extended posteriorly to strain to urinate, squeaking very loudly in pain. I asked the vet, “Did you hear that? That was him.” He said he didn’t hear anything. Albus bent over again and again to lick his penis. He strained to urinate over and over again, squeaking quietly while standing on a towel on the exam table. I asked the vet, “Why is he doing this? He has never done this before.” Finally, the vet picked him up and flipped him over. He looked at his penis and said, “He’s fine, but he’ll be sore for a day or two.” He asked his technician when the last ultrasound was done. It was in October. The vet said, “Oh, not that long ago.” Even though Albus was still licking and straining on the exam table, the vet didn’t order an x-ray or ultrasound.

The vet instructed me to schedule bladder catheterization under anesthesia for June and told me to put Albus back into his carrier and leave. Albus was miserable on the ride home, not moving around as usual and shedding tears from one of his eyes. The fur under his left eye was wet.

That night and all day Saturday, Albus didn’t eat or poop. He spent Saturday and Sunday drinking water and straining to urinate, squeaking in pain. I gave him some pain medication Saturday and Sunday. He ate a few small pieces of lettuce Sunday night.

Monday morning, I called the vet’s office at 7:59 a.m. and left a detailed message. He called back around 10:15 a.m. and said, “I heard I messed him up.” I told him Albus was in pain since Friday’s visit and had not eaten or pooped, only drinking water and urinating a little bit. He said, “Sounds like you got him through the weekend.” He recommended surgery for the following day, Tuesday, March 24, at 12:00 noon, telling me to drop Albus off by noon Tuesday. He said even if I dropped him off that day, Albus would just sit in a cage overnight until his surgery at noon. He did not tell me to bring you in for evaluation right away that same day. I should have taken him in anyway. Monday night, Albus ate 3 pieces of lettuce and started to urinate more, although with great pain.

I woke up Tuesday morning around 6:30 a.m. to find Albus hiding under the dining table. He was lying flat against the carpet. He was dying. When I scooped his limp body up into my arms, his head started to lean back slowly and he started to close his eyes. I immediately got into the car and drove him to the vet’s office by 7 a.m.

The technicians started Albus on oxygen and gave him injections of pain medication and muscle relaxant, placing him on a towel and warming pad. They said his rapid breathing and fast heart rate were good signs that he was not slowing down. Albus and I then waited for the vet to arrive at 8 a.m. A different vet came in and immediately discussed euthanasia. I told the vet I want him to try to save Albus. He took Albus to the back of the clinic. After about 15 minutes, the vet came to speak to me but wouldn’t let me see him. He said under anesthesia he drained 15 mL of urine with a needle and then catheterized the bladder but had to stop because he had to intubate him. He couldn’t get an IV in. He again told me to think about euthanasia. At that moment, his technician came running to get him. They ran into the back again. A few minutes later the vet came out and said, ““I’m sorry, the little guy didn’t make it. He went into cardiac arrest.” I wasn’t with my little Albus when he died! I asked to see Albus, but they told me to wait in another room. They brought his body to me wrapped in a towel and let me hold him for a while. Then they took his body, packaged him in a small white cardboard box, sealed with packaging tape, and handed the box to me.

One moment Albus is alive and well. The next moment the vet examines him and dooms him to 4 days of excruciating pain before he dooms him to death. I should not have taken Albus on Friday. I should not have let the vet squeeze his bladder. I should not have gone along with his deferring surgery to June. I should have asked again why Albus was suddenly in pain.

The vet left a voicemail message two days ago, acknowledging and “apologizing” for “instigating the events” that led to Albus’s death. He also said that maybe he should have been more aggressive with managing his condition earlier.

I am devastated, completely heartbroken. I feel so guilty about everything. I should have spent more time with him, given him his favorite treats more often. I cannot stop crying and thinking about him. I know he is gone, but I keep looking for him to be here. He was so full of life, so happy and carefree. How could he be gone now?

Thank you for allowing me to share Albus’s story. I love and miss my little bunny so much.

Hermy and Albus's Mommy

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[Stormycloud]

Hi Hermy's Mummy,

Hoping you had a better day today - going to work is awful when you are feeling so incredibly sad! I do hope it went okay for you though.

Thinking of you and your sweet Albus, he really is soooooo cute.

Hug to you!

Moira

[Hermy's Mommy]

Hi Moira,

Thank you so much for the well wishes. I made it through work today, mostly because it was so busy that I didn't have time to think about my little guy.

Thanks for thinking of Albus and me. He is a cutie-pie! It's amazing how our little furry loved ones burrow into our hearts, fill them with such joy and love, and leave huge gaping holes when they depart. I'm trying to fill the gigantic hole in my heart with all the love I have for Albus and all the memories of our life together. I feel so blessed, so lucky to have had him in my life. I only wish it was for much, much longer.

I still have many regrets and tons of guilt about his last days here on earth. I wish things turned out differently. Maybe if I had done this or that...he would still be here.

Again, thank you for your comforting words!

Hugs,
Lisa (Hermy and Albus's Mommy)

[LittleGirl's...]

Hi again Lisa,

I wanted to share a poem that someone posted here (I think it was a few years ago. I wish I remembered who. It has meant a lot to me). I don't remember whose name was in the poem, but I substituted my kitty's name, Mariah (the precious soul I lost in July of '98). The details of the circumstances are different from yours, but I hope the poem brings you some comfort, as it did for me.

I'm sorry for the pain I caused you
All because I did not know
That you were sick and you were hurting
And that was why you walked so slow.

I'm sorry that I left you with them
On what would be your last night here.
Can you forgive me for that Mariah?
That's what my heart most wants to hear.

Oh Mommie in the end as always
Nothing that you did was wrong.
No matter where I was I felt it,
Your love for me was oh so strong.

Oh Mommie, Mommie please don't worry
For there is nothing to forgive.
A life of peace and joy and gladness
Is what I want for you to live.


Albus doesn't want you feeling guilty for anything. Guilt is such an unfortunate but universal feeling that comes with grief. We are not meant to be perfect and we humanly can't anticipate everything that might happen or think of everything we "should have done." Hermy, Albus, Harry, and Ron are all lucky to be able to call you their loving Mommy.

Kathy

[Hermy's Mommy]

Dear Kathy and moon_beam,

Thank you so much for your wonderful support through this difficult time.

moon_beam, you are right when you say that this is a grief journey. To me it feels like a very long and arduous journey from a very deep and dark place, not knowing if I will ever make it to the end.

Kathy, thank you for the poem. It is very moving. I feel I should have been with Albus at the very end. The vet wouldn't let me see him or be with him after his procedure. As the vet was telling me how the procedure went (badly), Albus died with the vet techs in the back of the clinic. He was all alone with strangers. I feel I should have been holding him in my arms when he took his last breath. I should have been with him so he wouldn't think that I abandoned him at his time of need. I feel terrible about his last moments on this earth, about his last few days of suffering here.

Today I just received Albus's medical records. My friend called the vet's office two days after Albus died to request his records. I could not and still cannot call the vet's office myself. Not only am I very sad, but I am also very angry. Angry at how Albus was treated and not treated the last few days of his life. Angry at myself for not having been more assertive in his care. Angry and outraged at the vet and myself for letting Albus down, for failing him.

One line in his record troubles me greatly: "Urogenital system: the penis is very red and inflamed." This note was from his exam on the morning he died. Poor Albus! He passed away the morning of March 24, Tuesday. On Monday, March 23, after I spoke to the vet around 10:30 a.m. and scheduled his procedure for noon the following day, I took Albus home after work. I had taken Albus to work that morning anticipating the vet to tell me to bring him in that day. Instead, poor Albus stayed with me at work all day, straining to urinate and refusing to eat or drink. Once we were home, I gave him his evening doses of medications and looked at his genital area, including his little penis. It did not look "red and inflamed." I did use a Kleenex tissue to gently wipe away some sludgy urine on his penis and surrounding fur. I also used a brand new, clean syringe to rinse his penis with warm water. A small amount of thick sludge came out, so I again rinsed his area clean and patted dry with a towel. That evening, he strained alot to urinate and actually was able to urinate some clear brown urine. He even ate 3 pieces of romaine lettuce. I thought he was hanging in there. Of course, by morning when I found him, he was dying.

Seeing his medical records, especially that one line, has made me question myself all over again. Did I hurt Albus's penis? Did I hasten his demise? Did I worsen his pain by rinsing his area? I'm asking myself, "What have I done?" over and over again.

I'm sorry I'm rambling, but I am beside myself with even more guilt tonight. Yesterday, I received a condolence card from Albus's vet (not the vet who saw Albus the morning of his death). I also received his pawprint in clay. All of these things make me so, so sad. What I wouldn't give to have Albus back in my life, alive and well!!!

Thank you for your continued support. I really appreciate it! Without all of you here, I don't think I could make it through the day.

I pray Albus forgives me. I pray Albus forgives his mommy.

Hugs,
Hermy and Albus's Mommy (Lisa)

[LittleGirl's...]

Dear Lisa,

Albus did NOT feel you abandoned him. He absolutely felt your love enveloping him. And now that he is pure spirit, he continues to feel the amazing love of the best Mommy he ever could have known. His last few difficult days in his body were NOT your fault. You suffered with him and you entrusted his medical issues to a medical professional. Albus knows this and does not want you to feel guilty about ANYTHING!

When I read your other posts, I felt anger toward that vet (one of the parallels between your story and mine concerning my sweet Mariah). One of the things I eventually did--- because the visit to the vet was so nightmarish and I couldn't seem to shake it---was to write the vet a letter, which I'd be glad to share with you IF you felt it would help you at all. When I put the letter into the mailbox, I had the feeling of hoping he wouldn't respond---and he didn't. But the mailing of that letter lifted a lot of the guilt and horror feelings for me. I had gotten things off my chest and I felt that by doing so, I had somehow gotten more justice for Mariah.

Speaking of letters, I also wrote a few TO Mariah, expressing everything I felt---my sense of guilt, my horror at the vet's treatment, my undying love for her. (She has always known these things, but I somehow felt better writing it all down and addressing HER.)

Lisa, you did not hasten Albus's demise. What you showed him was love and care! You rinsed the area around his penis, which was a wonderfully caring thing to do! You did NOTHING WRONG. Albus wants you to know that. The day you brought him to work with you, you had only HIS best interests at heart. You still had to work to support yourself and your babies, but you wanted to be ready to go directly to the vet, had they told you that they could get him right in.

As the poem says... "Mommie, there is nothing to forgive." Nothing. Yours is one of the most caring stories I've ever read. The care and love you showed to Albus puts you in the top 1% of the best mommies in the world. It is understandable that you don't quite yet believe that. But it IS true, Lisa.

Please keep checking in here. We will help you through this.

Kathy (LittleGirl'sMommy)
P.S. Just had to share - The morning of March 24th was the 11th anniversary of the physical passing of my Little Girl.