Twas the night before brain surgery
When all through the house
The kids were a sleeping
And mummy was on the piss
That so doesn't rhyme.
But what can you do. House... spouse....mouse....
So, the translation - finished and sent by 1pm. What a legend. So much earlier than I thought. I even got some play time with the baby today AND spent more than half an hour making nutritious meal for family.
I rang mum as soon as I had finished - and could therefore fall apart and not have to pull self together to continue working. She was having some bean salad and waiting for MRI - with black marker dots on her head for positioning. She was cheerful. Over cheerful - as I guess you would be to your daughter. Mothers are strong. They pull through. They pretend to us like things aren't as bad as they are.
She must be so damn scared. God knows I am. Tomorrow Dr. McDreamy (and I will so google him when I ask his name) will be cutting into her head - her brain. Her brain people. This is seriously scary scary shit.
And I will be here translating - something different that I took on yesterday morning and has to be in tomorrow 'sometime' - I have done 1/4 of it already and am sure a few cups of coffee will get the rest out of me tomorrow before mum is due out of surgery - hence when I will start shitting self that am not getting phone-call fast enough.
Fingers crossed - angels - white lights, whatever. Send it our way tomorrow please. Or more specifically send them to Wellington.