I have a stranger’s DNA
Staring at the blank page, with my pen poised, I was struggling to find the words. How can you thank a complete stranger for saving your life? I didn’t know anything about him, except he was in his early 20s, lived thousands of miles away, and five months earlier had been the difference between me seeing my daughter grow up and the unthinkable alternative.
It was August 2016 when my husband, Wayne, then 55, found me passed out on the bathroom floor on the morning of my 47th birthday, and rushed me to University Hospital in Coventry.
Working as an operations manager for a multinational company, and having a 10-year-old daughter, Jorja, I’d put the tiredness,
