I must not think about anything . Just the stuff I am doing.
I have to do stuff.
I have to keep doing because as soon as I don't, I think. And thinking isn't good at present.
My dog is in surgery as I write. It's pretty major. They think she has a tumour but they cannot see properly so they're going in anyway. She's been in for two hours already.
I don't want to think about it at all.
I am clinging to a whisper of a hope.
On Wednesday night I was convinced she was dying. I said if she lasted the night I had hope.
I said if she got to the vets there was hope.
She was so weak. They said she had hardly any red blood cells, that she was severely dehydrated. They said they'd try. If she responded to the steroids there was hope.
If they could get the drip to work there was hope.
Last night there was hope.
This morning they operated and while I know nothing all I can do is hope.
In the meantime my kitchen is gleaming and I now know all the words to Keane's Silenced by the Night