I remember in my last interview, one of the things I was saying, and I remember so vividly, is … the first time I started to walk, and I looked out the window, and I could see blades of grass with little water droplets on it, and I just thought how beautiful, how amazing life is. That stayed with me for several months. I must admit over the years, that feeling has slightly deteriorated: I haven’t lost consciousness about how beautiful life is, how beautiful nature is, however the amazement has sort of died down a bit.

And I think that’s just because I’ve been growing up with my new self, as it were, over the last 10 years and, like we all do, we take things for granted, and the amazement that was there is transformed into something else now – I get amazed about other things, although it may not be as small as a blade of grass – it could be watching somebody on Facebook, for instance, doing an amazing feat, and I think that’s just wonderful, how life is, or seeing a nature video. So that feeling still comes up very strong, although the blade of grass scenario, as I said, it’s moved onto further things now.

The goddess that I believe in, Ashapurama, basically her name, asha, means hope, and the word pura means to fulfil, so she’s one of the goddesses who fulfils hope. I lost my mother at a very early age … I feel the need for motherly love, which is why I’m more favourable to a goddess looking after me, rather than a god, as it were. And she’s there, she’s there for me always.

I didn't really struggle with having an organ in me and knowing that it’s somebody else’s. What I did struggle with was the fact that I wanted some contact with the donor’s family, which I didn’t get – even now I haven’t got. Which hasn't quite finished my circle, as it were. You know, it’s just left a little hole, and I just feel it hasn't closed that – that feeling that I’ve had over the whole process. You know, I very much like, the dots and the crosses to be made properly and so forth. So this is one thing that has hung over me, and I would dearly love just to see them, you know, maybe find out a little bit about them.

I pray for her every night – every night I pray for her, that she has peace wherever she is. And I remind myself I’m only here because of her. And that feeling doesn’t go away. That feeling doesn’t go away. I’ve never thought that, you know, I’ve got somebody else’s organ, or a part of their body in me. And I don’t feel that I’m not whole as a result. But I have this mental gap, as it were, that I need to have some sort of contact with them. I can’t understand why I can’t have that.