I jumped in the car earlier, to pick up my sisters, who had spent the afternoon being posh ladies who dine out in London. I approached the station and could see them chatting and waving excitedly. The journey home was filled with tales from the day, and they had bought me the most awesome box of marzipan fruits (I swear these things actually look like fruits and veg, and they are strange ones, Melon, Corn etc..!) from Harrods, and had generally had a wonderful time. I dropped them off at home, still glowing, and drove off towards my house.
As I turned onto the main road I started to cry. Cry with happiness. I sobbed thank you, I don't know where to or why, but just overwhelming gratitude to my donor and their family. Without them I would be dead by now, and instead I am driving round, picking up my sisters, going out with friends for the day tomorrow and generally living my life. My family are no longer chained to staying within a phonecalls reach of me, should I need anything or should Harefield call. They have also got their lives back, and this evening was a beautiful demonstration to me of how things have changed.
I still can't believe my luck, I still can't believe it has happened, but my god am I going to make this count.
The C Word
4 hours ago