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1:27, too much to drink and just seen my penultimate friend out the door...the final one is upstairs nailing my housemate. I should really go to bed and get five hours sleep before I have to get up for my last day at work, pre-Christmas break; the mess from our raucous festive party can wait until tomorrow at least.

But before I retire, just this to share: I collected my youngest brother from the airport today, and the relief that he was able to land on British soil before Christmas Day was the only present I require. As long as my father can arrive in a similar timely fashion my Yule will be perfect. The unconditional love I am endowed with by a selection of my friends and family has sustained me these last three years and it is only by having endured the hardship of kidney failure that I have understood the importance of it. Christmas is tricky because it is around this period that I began dialysis - for the second time in my life - three years ago. I am about to start my fourth year on dialysis, a notion that was incomprehensible all those months ago. Now, it is almost inconsequential.

Without dialysis I would cease to exist but without the love of those closest to me I would cease to live. The dialysis acts in lieu of my kidneys, but my heart needs no such assistance. Few of you will read this, but to those who do, please know how grateful I am for the time, energy, love and support you invest in me - please don't stop, I know I'm a drain. In my darkest moments, I have questioned my ability to continue forward on this path, but for as long as I must, for as long as you all need me to, I shall. This year, Christmas means sitting beside those that I love, without fanfare, and knowing that I shall give you everything I have. Never have I felt so grateful for my family and my friends. I am eager to accept this burden if somehow, cosmically, it negates the rest of you from coming to harm.

For now, a very Merry Christmas to all of you xx

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