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

Attached image(s)

 

[moon_beam]

Hi, Lisa, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing. It is difficult enough to endure the grief adjustment journey when our beloved companions transition home to the angels with the blessing of good veterinary care. But I know so well from first hand experience how more difficult it is to cope with their physical loss in addition to anger and frustration with inappropriate medical care from people who are supposed to be professionals in their field. In the letter you send to the Virginia veterinary licensing board I would highly encourage you to include a copy of the bill and explain why you feel it is inappropriate for you to have to pay it (even if you have). You may also want to contact the Better Business Bureau to place a complaint against the practice and ask them to arbitrate the payment of that last invoice. This way if you choose not to pay the bill you will have a record of your complaint should the veterinary practice place a negative comment on your credit rating.

I would also like to affirm Kathy's comforting assurance that your beloved Albus has been welcomed by your beloved Hermy, Kathy's beloved Little Girl, and all of the residents of heaven's perfect garden. Your beloved Albus is now restored to his former youthfulness telling all the other residents of the loving care you gave to him during his earthly journey, and all the residents are listening intently to his every word nodding their heads in approval.

Sadly, Lisa, none of us has control over the time and circumstances surrounding our departure from this physical realm. But I do so understand how haunted your heart is about what happened with your beloved Albus. I hope as your deep grief eases you will be able to find a peace in your heart that you did everything in your human and humane power to give your beloved Albus a happy and healthy earthly journey, and excellent medical care.

I hope today is treating you kindly, Lisa, and that you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Albus' sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and please let us know how you're doing.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam

[Hermy's Mommy]

Dear Kathy and moon_beam,

Thank you so much for your encouraging posts. Your words, guidance, and support are like the beacons of light in a terrible storm. Thank you!!!

Kathy, I very much appreciate your sharing the letter you sent to Mariah's first vet, and I am SO sorry for what you and your Little Girl went through with that horrible excuse for a vet. I share your outrage and pain over how your Little Girl was treated as the patient and how you were treated as a her parent and fellow human being.

Today, my mother and one of my friends have both suggested, as you have, that I write a letter to the vet. Albus loved to FaceTime with my mother. He would listen intently to her as she told him how her day went and to encourage him to take his medications. He would occasionally wink at her too.

moon_beam, your advice has been invaluable. Thank you. I plan to report to the Virginia veterinary licensing board. Great advice to include a copy of the bill. I had not thought of that. I will also contact the BBB to place a complaint. I do not want another innocent animal to suffer needlessly at their hands.

I love your vivid description of our departed loved ones in heaven's perfect garden, gathered around, sharing stories of their lives. It brings a smile to my face and in my heart. Thank you so much for that.

"I would also like to affirm Kathy's comforting assurance that your beloved Albus has been welcomed by your beloved Hermy, Kathy's beloved Little Girl, and all of the residents of heaven's perfect garden. Your beloved Albus is now restored to his former youthfulness telling all the other residents of the loving care you gave to him during his earthly journey, and all the residents are listening intently to his every word nodding their heads in approval."


I can see Albus gathered around with his sister Hermy, Kathy's dear Little Girl, Bobbie's Trevor, your 3 departed fur babies, and all the other wonderful little angels. Perhaps Albus is comparing notes with Mariah, going over what vets should and should not do in their practice of medicine. I can see Hermy being outraged for her brother Albus.

I can only hope that they are all happy, pain-free, carefree, and joyful. I think if I can keep believing that, I can make it one day at a time.

Today marks exactly two weeks since Albus departed this world, but it feels like an eternity since I held him in my arms.

Hugs to you all! I'll keep praying for all of us here and for our little loved ones.

Good night,
Hermy and Albus's Mommy

[LittleGirl's...]

Lisa,

I can only hope that they are all happy, pain-free, carefree, and joyful. I think if I can keep believing that, I can make it one day at a time.

I honestly believe they are completely all the things you mentioned!!!

We'll help you every step of the way in this journey. I'm glad you are planning to write to the Vet Board, etc. You and Albus might save many precious lives as a result.

How are Harry and Ron doing?

Will look forward to hearing how you are feeling. Write soon.

Prayers your way (especially prayers to help you fully understand that NOTHING was your fault),

Kathy