Before my transplant, I had the opportunity to spend a few hours with a professional photographer, Pam Stepka, and we had so much fun (and talked way too much) as we walked around downtown Hudson. She shot a bunch of photos of me, both of us fully aware of the upcoming transplant. Looking back, I’m glad I made the time and then found the strength and endurance to do this. These were done a month before my transplant, and it’s funny because I just don’t know this girl in the pictures. She’s so different now. I’ve hesitated to share, I think because I’m not sure what I think or how I feel about these photos, the girl in each one. I miss the other me, the me in the photos, the me without the gaping incision and immunosuppressant drugs and insanely careful, precautionary lifestyle. I miss not having to go to liver clinic every other week, getting labs drawn twice a week, and being emotionally tethered to the steroids I’ll be on for the rest of my life. I miss the days where I didn’t have to record my vital signs into a notebook or call the transplant team for permission before doing anything. These may just be pictures to you, but the girl in them? She’s not me, and I think I want her back.