Today, the father of my children and the man I was once married to, goes to an appointment in Sydney at the Liver Transplant Unit. Its a tough call. My son is with him. I am calling them the Highwaymen. One came from 500 kms south of Sydney on the coach and the other went 500km from the North to meet his son. Today, we find out what, if anything, can be done about a liver now so far gone that ascites are present and liver failure sitting there like a vulture.
There isn’t a lot to say about just now. Its the start to this blogging. I’ve journalled since I got clean in 1987 I am now inclined to be a little less private about it. I have, with the passing of time, become concerned that we might become so anonymous that we disappear.
Just for today, spare a thought for the ones who are ill and decimated by this disease.