Yes, we can.

We can have a transplant. He is on the list from today. Which brings all kinds of new scary into the mix. I am the contact person and can now never have my phone on silent or turned off. I can’t be more than 20 minutes away from him at any time, and we can’t ever be more than 3 hours from Birmingham. My already frazzled nerves just ignited and burst into flame. It will be okay. He is very poorly and needs a new liver and a chance at new life. I can be here and hold him up through that. After our 28 years together I can do this last shitty bit with good grace and humour and I can grasp his hand and protect him fiercely while we get to the end of this road.

If I’m really honest, I have never felt so alone in all my life. Oddly, this makes me feel powerful, because I absolutely trust myself for the first time ever; even though I’m scared witless, I really do know I can do this.

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About pippa

40-something, yogi, gardener, reader and writer. Not great at any of those things but more than happy to be average. I'm anxious, depressed, chaotic, boring, delighted, excited and often foolish. It's all good. And cake.
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