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?
Cervical Cancer is on the rise and is reported to affect older women more so than younger. For this reason our government see fit to empower doctors to refuse girls under the age of 25, in England and Wales, a cervical screening test wether they have symptoms or not.
Are we spending too little on cancer? It would appear so from the latest grim analysis of European survival statistics which show Britain "stuck in the 1990s" and lagging behind our neighbours on breast, lung, colon and stomach cancer outcomes...
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.
My apolitical view review of the budget is that thanks to Mr Osborne and Mr Cameron, the people of this country are more likely in future to die of cancer prematurely but at least when they die they are more likely to die in their own home unless of course the paucity of their disability benefit has forced them out of their home ownership.
Sometimes the best thing you can do for a cancer patient is to just be there. Listen. Put aside your own discomfort and sit in those hard moments with someone. You can't take away cancer, you can't cause a certain outcome, and you can't control this. The sooner you give up the impossible role of being able to fix things, the sooner you can help.
Cancer looms large in the imagination. The dreaded C-word is universally feared. Warfare terminology may help to evoke support and to give us an important sense of control in the face of an enemy.
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.
Unfortunately, in this case a process which is of huge public interest has gone on behind closed doors rather than adopting the transparent and inclusive approach that was promised by politicians and civil servants alike. It fuels suspicion that the decision was made on a muddle of flawed criteria.
I have met David Cameron and I liked him. That in itself is strange as I have a natural dislike of politicians mainly due to the way they speak. Mr Cameron however came across well and I believed every word he said. I also truly believe he meant every word of them.
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.
To explain mine better would be to tell her that since she told me as I sat down, that they'd had a woman in earlier that day that had been 'up all night with a dodgy tummy', I could literally FEEL the germs on my chair.
The NHS is spending £250 million on two of the first-generation proton beam machines, to be based in London and Manchester respectively, which are due to be operational before the end of 2018.
The trouble is who's going to be brave enough to stand up - particularly in the run up to a general election - and state that they think having a massive pot of money to help treat cancer patients needs a rethink? All the political announcements so far have been about extending the CDF and nobody is really talking about reform because it is not exactly a vote winner. We need to engage the public in this important debate as it's one that gets to the very heart of our health care system, and the value that we as a society place on the quality of life for all patients.
On the day of my diagnosis, I did several things. First, I sat on a bench outside the hospital, my head on my knees, crying uncontrollably, as my partner quietly kept his arms around me. I stayed like that for some time before suddenly sitting upright and asking him if he would marry me.
The Cancer Drugs Fund gave me access to the drugs I needed to shrink my tumour and enabled a team of highly skilled and courageous surgeons to prolong my life not just for a few months but for many years... So how do you think I felt when I discovered that the drug that saved by life would, along with a number of other drugs and treatments, no longer be available to cancer patients?