Extreme frustration

My little eight-month-old rabbit Albert developed a lung infection (pneumonia) while we were away working and is now at the veterinary hospital. She had been staying with my other rabbit at my parents' place. Poor little thing, she was panting and hadn't eaten or drank all day. Classic signs of pain in a rabbit.

Not eating is very serious in a rabbit, although no one else (apart from the nurse I spoke to, who had mercifully treated Albert previously) seemed to have a bloody clue. Vets are not all trained in rabbit care and treat them as they would small cats and dogs.

I'm glad I did my homework instead of relying on professionals, who, I have come to experience, are rarely founts of as much knowledge as they should be. Rabbits are exotic creatures and you cannot apply principles from treating cats and dogs to a different species, for fuck's sake.

The vet patently had no idea that when a rabbit doesn't eat, its gut goes into stasis and it often dies. Fucking hell. It's basic knowledge. Why he didn't check her for dehydration and recommend force-feeding and a drip is beyond me. Idiot. That, plus the lung infection, would have been a significant strain on the poor animal. Grrrr.

I spent my first hour in bed last night weeping, which was nice. Worry about Albert. Exhaustion. Stress. All the very best things in life.

It's obvious that my tiredness is having an effect on those around me but there isn't much, if anything, I can do. Except apologise for having this problem. It's not as though I can have a nice long rest and be all fresh and bouncy. I feel as though I'm getting to the end of my tether.