Sally-Anne Grainger, 29, is divorced and lives in Worcester with her daughters Kelsey-Louise, 10, and Megan-Elizabeth, six.

"Last Christmas was supposed to be just that - my last. Two months earlier, my consultant had told me that, unless I had a double lung transplant - something
I'd been waiting for over three years - I wouldn't see the end of 2009. So I was determined to make it a Christmas to remember for my two daughters Megan and Kelsey. My mother and I whisked them off to the beautiful Celtic Manor Resort in Wales, where they spent the days horse-riding and swimming. And every afternoon I'd clamber back into bed, with an oxygen tank...
Living with cystic fibrosis has totally dominated my life - I've never been able to work full-time because, even on a good day, I get tired very quickly and, at my worst, I've been hospitalised for weeks, linked up to a ventilator and fighting for breath. In April 2006, I was rushed to hospital with total respiratory failure. I'd already been waiting seven months for a double lung transplant, but as 16 months came and went, I was losing hope. Twice I'd had false calls, arriving at the hospital full of hope, only to be told that the donor lungs were unsuitable. By October last year, my consultant told me that I
had around 15 months left, at most. Then, miraculously, in March, I was bathing Megan one evening when the phone rang - it was the transplant unit in London.
I'd been down this road twice before and this time I kept my cool. Refusing to get over-excited, I said that I'd leave once I'd finished getting Megan ready for bed and taken her to her father's for the night.  
I knew the hospital routine by heart and as the hours came and went with
the promise that I'd know ‘very soon'
if the operation was going ahead, I was less and less convinced. My mother and Kelsey were both with me and at the very moment that we were about to pack up and go home, a nurse walked in and asked, ‘Do you have somewhere better to be? Because we have some new lungs waiting for you.' Fighting back the tears, I hugged her and, within 20 minutes, I was being prepped for the operation. With Kelsey beside me, holding my hand, I was wheeled down to the theatre. I told her to be brave for Mummy and to give me her biggest smile, which she did - my last memory before the op was seeing her waving and smiling next to my mother.
That was nine months ago, and the transplant was a success. Today I can honestly say I'm a new person. Having cystic fibrosis is like living with a time bomb, but I've been given at least five more years to live with my new lungs and I've known people who have gone on to live 20 years or more. Before the transplant, my daily routine consisted of four rounds of physio at home and constant naps - a ‘treat' was having enough energy to pick the girls up from school and that in itself was a very rare event. Now I can take my children to and from school every day like all the other mothers, and believe it or not, I love being a taxi for all their after-school activities. This Christmas, all I want is to be at home, like any other family, and
I can't wait to do everything myself - without relying on help. I'm even looking forward to doing the washing up! Believe me, every moment will be savoured."

Editors Note: Many thanks to Sally-Anne, and to SHE Magazine for their permission to publish this article.