This is the hardest thing I have ever had to write.

In one of the stars I shall be living.

I seldom find myself lost for words, but for days I have been incapable of articulating how I feel. You cannot prepare for the worst things in life; they blindside you on a Friday afternoon. Last Friday afternoon was the weekly transplant meeting, which all the liver team attend, plus anybody else with useful input. I was on the agenda, and my respiratory consultant was there. After a long discussion, it was decided that the risks of transplant outweigh the benefits. Getting me off a ventilator post-transplant would probably be impossible. And my death post-transplant is a massive waste of a premium liver. So I was right; I won’t be one of the people that dies on the list. Because I’m not going on the list, and there isn’t another solution. So I will die. It will be an infection that gets me, not liver failure like before. The bugs…

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