Everyone keeps asking me what's on my bucket list. The problem is: I don't actually have one. People seem surprised when I tell them that. Why? Are all terminally ill people expected to have bucket lists? Do they help in some way?
Here at Ovarian Cancer Action we applaud Angelina Jolie's decision to announce that she has had her ovaries removed and are anticipating another wave of the 'Angelina Effect', which saw a dramatic increase in the number of women referred for genetic testing after Angelina announced that she had undergone a double mastectomy in 2013.
I felt both lifted and depressed by the appointment at the same time. The doctor was extremely helpful and comprehensive, knowledgeable and interesting, and most importantly, he treated me like an adult.
I could not have had a better mother. I know a lot of people say this, but in my case it really is true. It should be clear how brainy she is and how she wasn't afraid to step outside her comfort zone even at a young age.
This week, the Fund cut a number of drugs from its list because it could not afford to continue paying for all of them. The cuts included three drugs used to treat secondary breast cancer. As you can imagine, there's been a huge uproar about this in my breast cancer community.
It started in my breast, back in June 2014. It was the familiar story - I found a lump, I had it checked out, it was malignant. I was assured that I had found it early and that it was completely treatable. And so my battle began.
By avoiding the bleak statistics and that loaded word 'terminal', she helped me learn that I was living with cancer, not dying from it. For that I am grateful.
In the Arctic, with no reception, your phone is nothing but a poor-quality torch for as long as the battery lasts. By the end of the first day I didn't miss it any more. The world became tightly focused on the trail in front of me, the skis on my feet and the 12 people I was sharing the journey with.
Undergoing cancer treatment and living with or beyond cancer is no mean feat. It can take single-minded determination to deal with treatment and its side effects, as well as life-long uncertainty and a roller coaster of unexpected mixed emotions.
Up until last spring I had been enjoying life as a healthy gym bunny, always outgoing and taking on everything life had to offer. I had noticed I'd been feeling more tired lately, and had a feeling that something wasn't right - but I never expected to hear the C word.
It's very hard to get breasts into advertising, even if those breasts are being checked for signs of cancer.
What we are now seeing, perhaps as an unnerving symptom of the Coalition's austerity drive as it continues to look for ways to reduce the deficit, is a question mark over whether treating cancer patients who can't be cured is worth the money.
It's here again: Blue Monday - the start of the third week in January is allegedly the most depressing day of the year. There's no actual scientific evidence to back this up but it's the kind of theory that feels true whether there's any real science behind it or not.
I know that most of my female friends and family members hate their bodies to varying degrees in a way that the blokes I know just don't. Not to the same bottomless extent, anyway. And it makes me indescribably sad. How else could we be spending that time?!
It's the most wonderful time of the year. And whilst devouring sprouts and our annual rendition of Away in a Manger come a close second, the best thing about the festive season is undoubtedly the chance to gather with family and friends and to reflect on all that has happened over the year.
We already know from research that dogs can detect prostate cancer - what we don't know is whether prostate and breast cancer smell different. This was something that I knew Walk the Walk would want to help with so when Medical Detection Dogs were planning a major study into breast cancer detection and needed help with funding the study, we jumped at it.