'But you look so well!' It was a shocked response I have become used too. If the illness of a person is judged on their appearance, then I generally haven't fitted the criteria. It doesn't matter that I have incurable cancer, to many people, there is almost a sense of disappointment that I don't look like I'm on my death bed.
There's nothing quite like the sweltering heat and blistering sunlight to bring out the worst in sensitive skin. I should know, I'm faired skinned and prone to breakouts, and while most people seem to be blessed with a healthy glow right about now, I, on the other hand, was (until recently) dried-out and blotchy, and I swear I had more wrinkles.
While watching the Olympics over the last week, it wasn't just Team GB's fantastic medal tally that made me stop and think. Something else was different, noteworthy. Gone were the airbrushed, botoxed and identikit actors and actresses of soap operas, dramas and commercials. Instead, people of many shapes and sizes danced across the screen.