Life after that was never quite the same: everything I did with the knowledge that it could end anytime. I had just started a new full-time job which proved to be a mistake; the long day was too exhausting. I suffered from fatigue and depression.

I thought and read about the illness a lot - I needed to know everything there is to know and I realised that there was nothing I could do. I decided to carry on with my live as normal as I could, only interrupted by regular Hospital visits for monitoring purposes. The fact that I was 'a good candidate for a transplant', as the doctor put it, provided some comfort. I just had to make sure to keep fit for the operation, and so I continued with my favourite past time: windsurfing!

At the beginning of 2002 I had to retire from work as I became more and more incapacitated and in 2003 I started to visit people and places just in case it was for the last time. I instinctively knew that I had reached the time when I had to do things because it might be the last opportunity. I went skiing in Switzerland with my father, in the same resort the family had been frequenting for years.

And in August 2004 I went on a Windsurf holiday in Egypt with a 12 times National Champion to learn advanced manoeuvres. By that time I had difficulties breathing, but nothing could prevent me from participating in the lessons. Regrettably after a few days I was in excruciating pain, my abdomen was so extended, that I had difficulties fitting into my wet suit and harness - and I could not eat anymore. The Hotel doctor diagnosed ascites and oedema and I only narrowly escaped from being hospitalized in Cairo.

After my return, in October 2004 I was booked into Hospital to asses my general condition and suitability for a transplant at that time. The surgeon, who explained the proceedings to me, would have liked to operate very soon, preferably immediately. - He talked about the window - when it was feasible to do the operation. It was clear to me that there was a point when it would be too late for surgery. He confirmed what I had suspected: without a Donor Liver I had very little time to live: 2 years at most, if I was lucky.

I was put on the Transplant waiting list, which meant I had to have a bag, packed and could never be further away from Hospital than 2 hours. - We live on the South Coast - I had never managed to do the trip in less than 2 hours - I was distressed. - My life had come to a halt. It was impossible to do anything during that time. I hardly dared going out and jumped every time the telephone rung.

After my 'work-up', I started to be ill, first with a chest infection, and then from the beginning of January 2005 I was in and out of hospital with various infections: Pneumonia, Streptococcal Septicaemia and Cellulites following a chest drain.

On the 2nd of May I was admitted to Hospital again, the pleural effusions had become so frequent that there was no point going home between treatments. There was no need for me to worry anymore about how to get to hospital in time, but rather, would I still be fit enough for surgery if a liver became available?

Since January I had been on a priority list. But nothing happened - there had been no liver donations for months and little could be done for me. During that time I had recurrent pleural effusions which required about 18 chest drains, sometimes in a life and death emergency situation. At least once the Intensive care team had to be called as I had passed out during the draining. Luckily my son had noticed that something was wrong and called a nurse. After that I was really scared and needed the comfort of a nurse and my son. But towards the end I begged the doctor not to put off the procedure to give me some relief.

It was a long wait, my condition went from bad to worse - 'She is wasting away 'was the phrase used during rounds or when introducing students. Soon to be replaced by 'you really need that liver now', accompanied by a very serious look indeed! I almost felt sorry for the doctors who must have felt quite helpless. It was obvious what everybody was thinking, there was no need to say anything.

During the last week before the transplant, I could hardly sleep. I was just laying there praying and waiting for the morning when activity started and breakfast was brought in by my family, scrambled egg and black forest ham was the favourite. The other meals were supplemented with fresh fruit or replaced with a tasty Chinese or Italian Take Away. Having been told I needed more nutrition, and the calories were counted, I did my best, but nothing helped of course. My body did not absorb the food anymore.

Furthermore speaking had become difficult, and I had turned from yellow to a shade of green. As I realized I was at death door, I asked my father to visit from abroad so we could say good bye. He was devastated and had to be comforted by nurses who found him near the lift crying on his way out. My husband had said very little for days, he was so stressed and all my son said was:' don't leave me on my own mum.

That night after the family had left; Dr.Patch brought me the new Windsurf Magazine which kept me going until midnight when the good news came: After 8 month of waiting, a suitable liver had been donated. - I was ecstatic- But the big question was, to operate or not? Was it too late? What were the chances? Apparently I only had a 20% chance of surviving the operation, but would have probably died the next day anyway. So, luckily Doctor Patch decided in my favour. He was sure I would make it! And so I did.

It had been a textbook transplantation - I was told afterwards -, but I spent days in Intensive care unconscious, with equipment and tubes attached everywhere, apparently the kidneys had been failing. The first thing I know is, that I was very thirsty and a friendly male nurse let me suck a sponge, I believe. And I remember thinking, of Jesus on the cross.

Memories of that time a hazy, I had lost all sense of reality and was convinced somebody
was trying to kill me. I was in constant fear of my life; I heard and saw things happening and I could not understand why nobody believed me. At times there was shooting outside my window, or so I thought, yet the nurse, who came into the room, insisted that a book had fallen of a shelf. These are only a few examples to illustrated what went on in my mind; it is impossible to describe the full extend of that nightmare.

I was in an isolation room at that time as I had acquired an infection on the wound - Acenitobacter - they said-. Although this was serious, in a way, I was pleased to be on my own, I would not have coped very well in a room with other people. It would have been all too embarrassing.

My body was filled with fluid, I was enormous, so it was impossible even to move a leg unaided. Everything had to be done for me. I could not even eat or drink without help. Gradually I got better, but it was weeks until I could walk properly again due to severe muscle depletion.

Recovery was quite quick considering the state I had been in, and I was discharged on the 24th of June. On leaving I still had the memory of the phrase used by Professor Burroughs

in my ear when introducing me to Prince Andrew who had come to visit the ward: 'and this is our success story' he said. For me this visit was very important - It had been something to look forward to all week - and it is something positive to remember.

And as you can see, it has been 'a success story'. I am a living example of a medical miracle, I think. The wheelchair I had come home in was soon returned and over the next few weeks I gradually walked unaided. Every day I am surprised how well I feel and how much I can do during the day. It is such a contrast to before the Transplant operation, when I was exhausted after breakfast and slept most of the day. For years I have had to plan my days and activities meticulously. I can now shop and cook in one day again, and I am already planning my Windsurf holidays with my favourite instructor for this summer.

It just remains to say; that despite the skill of the doctors, the care of the nurses, and the support of my family and friends, - without the donated liver, I would not be standing in front of you today! And I am very grateful that somebody who had experienced the sad loss of a family member, found the strength to make that life saving decision.