First off, this is sort of a ranty post and sans pictures, so likely not any fun. Leave now if you're so inclined, I understand.Every time I think that the herd is getting to the point where I can take everyone off the meds, I get a new outbreak. I've been fighting since New Year's and I swear if the cat sneezes one more time making me search in vain for the sick rabbit, I'm going to strangle her pretty little black and white neck.
Hook, amazingly has determined that it is smarter to stay out of the scary woman's way. He's my new favorite right now. I think the rabbits are getting better and then one relapses. Better yet, I have happy healthy babies one day and two dead babies the next. I'm talking about 19 day old babies people! Well past the age of instant death for no reason. I'm blaming the bacteria. I'm blaming the evil snot inducing, sneeze creating, makes me cry from frustration (I WANT TO KILL ALL THE BACTERIA RIGHT NOW) bacteria. I'm tired, I'm frustrated, I'm worried, I'm anxious, and I'm downright disgusted by all of the money I'm spending trying to make the bunnies better.
Which has made it really hard to concentrate on things like school, work, knitting, cooking, cleaning, or anything not involving sleeping. And in case you are wondering, that is really all I want to do or have wanted to do for about 3 weeks. I want to just give up, face the reaper, and sleep until it's all better. I know, I can't do that, but having the strength to keep fighting is really draining to me.
I finally rallied late last week, finishing some papers, taking some bunnies off the meds, cleaning my floors, doing a lot of much needed laundry. I even had time to really knit on my lace shawl this weekend and I'm on the edging now (picture to come soon). Saturday I was even feeling up to a little errand running/clearance shopping. And my friends, I found some great deals. I was all excited to come home, and then I nearly ended up as pineapple upside down cake on the side of the road.
I know, I need to be more careful. I know that it was icy. I know that going the speed and not panicking are important. I know that trying to turn the wheel to correct the direction on ice is a bad idea, but I did it anyway. A full 360 degrees, and much "shitshitshitshitshitshit" later, I was on a small outlet leading in to a subdivision about 2 miles from my house. I was fine, the van was fine, even my four pounds of kiwi fruits weren't bruised, yet I'm still upset by the experience.
Some time ago, I had my first car accident. I hydroplaned on a country round, spun 180 degrees, and rolled onto my driver's side in a very muddy cornfield. I had nightmares about the mud splattering up my window for weeks and being in a similar situation brought all of the old emotions back.
And when I think that I am finally getting everything back to as normal as my life usually is, I find two dead 19 day old babies when I go out to the barn. I'm just not sure how much more I can handle. Every time I think I've reached my limit, I reach a little deeper and come up holding more. I hear song's like "Bring On the Rain" and I think, I can do this. I can handle it. I look into the faces of my sweet bunnies and I try not to cry at having to kill some of them. I see hope in my pregnant does and I wish against all hope that this damn bacteria would finally let me have some peace. I just need them to be well for a few months, just to get my strength back, to give me more hope than what I can find in the fleeting moments I see it in the barn.
I'm heading up to Michigan this weekend for a two-day rabbit show and convention. My goal is to recharge my batteries, have a little fun with
Kristi, and come back resolved to make as much right as I can in my life. I just need to hang on until then.
And even though I may not be commenting, I am reading your blogs, and I am thinking of you all. Thank you for letting me vent, and I'm sort of surprised if you made it this far.
Labels: bunnies, organizing