gotta start some where

I guess this is how the story begins; before I am born, when my mom was young, she makes

a reckless and unusual choice to shoot up with some friends...probably my dad. I can't judge her for this, I know could have easily made the same kind of mistake. That's one place the story starts; another is 10 years ago or so, when my mom has liver failure and learns that the hep C she contracted so many years ago has started to deteriorate her liver. I am living in Vancouver BC and my mom is in rural Ontario. At that time I was working as a nanny, and I was with, my now ex, and good friend Soula. This was the first time I heard mention of Mom needing a liver transplant and the possibility of a living donor. It was a huge question to be faced with, would I consider being a living donor for my Mom? I first had to find out if I was a blood type match, so I went to the blood donor clinic and found out that I am O +.Yes a match. Now I had to get serious about thinking about it. I remember having lots of intense conversations with Soula and other friends about it. It all seemed really scary and complicated and inside myself I had no fucking idea what I should do or feel. Luckily, before long, My mom's health stabilized, she was assessed for a liver transplant and was told she was too healthy. Phew, I didn't have to make a decision yet. Last summer (Aug 2012) I came to visit, as I have most summers, but I was shocked to see my mom was very frail, fatigued and sick. She had quite suddenly started loosing muscle mass and stamina. I was very worried and so were other family members.