Stupid I know, but I haven’t even given it one thought about how I would feel about the first anniversary of my transplants. 

But boy has it hit me today. I’ve been thinking about it all day, what I was doing on this Saturday a year ago. I went to look at cars with Gary and Emma but I had to wait for them in the car because I was feeling very ill, we went to visit Gary’s mum and dad and I had a homemade rock cake and in the car on the way home from Charlbury I got a phone call …

I was admitted in to room 13 of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham. Robyn, Leah and Gary were with me, not having a clue about what we were all in for over the next couple of months 🙃 and probably at about this time we were starting to think that we should try and get some sleep.

So I’ve not really felt like doing anything today or been able to concentrate on too much. And I’ve been crying quite a lot at different times throughout the day. But why am I? I’m okay. I’m alive. There’s a family out there somewhere who lost a daughter a year ago today. Maybe a sister, niece, granddaughter. And in amongst all the pain and heartbreak they were suffering, they decided to let her liver be transplanted into someone else. I’ve been thinking about whoever they may be today and the horrendously difficult time their going through.

At around 4am I was taken to theatre.

Im going to leave it there. My head is hurting. 😢