If you're reading this blog post, you're probably fully aware of the existence of breast cancer, but when was the last time you checked your breasts?
While my friends are busy getting engaged, married or pregnant, I'll be spending the first year of my 30s battling breast cancer. Six months of chemotherapy and radiotherapy and a possible double mastectomy mean my life is effectively on hold.
There are few things more heart-wrenching than being told you can't have children. But being in that situation now, alone in the fertility clinic at a point in my life when I wasn't even in a relationship - wasn't even ready to have kids - was surreal.
Reactions to my breast cancer diagnosis were varied. An older, male, former colleague simply sent a one-line email that said, "Better get the box sets in then." (He has been similarly helpful and supportive ever since.)
Breast cancer has taken up a large part of my life. My mother and two aunts all suffered from the disease, all diagnosed when mothers and relatively young women - and - as cases can be linked to genetics, so did I.
I had no idea that men could even get breast cancer. My partner had no idea that men could get breast cancer. My friends, my family, seemingly no one was aware that men could get breast cancer. And yet there I stood, with breast cancer.
It's only the enforced waiting that's made me realise how quickly everything happened before. How I've effectively been on fast forward since that fateful day back in June. From the first time I heard the C-Bomb to the day of the mastectomy a total of eleven days passed, it felt like years, but it was just eleven days.
Evelyn Lauder was a true inspiration; she had personal experience of breast cancer and was determined to address a crucial lack of funding in breast cancer research at the time. She led the pink power movement that lit up iconic buildings in pink across the world and got people everywhere taking about breast cancer.
I always chuckle when I am referred to as the 'Chief Executive Officer' of CoppaFeel!. I suppose that title still conjures up old school images of a fat man, sitting behind his desk, smoking a cigar - certainly not a job title I thought I'd ever be crowned with when I skipped away from my higher national diploma in travel and tourism management and into the 'real world'.
So relentlessly is the message drummed into us that you'd be forgiven for thinking that fruits and vegetables have quasi-mythical health powers that profoundly elevate them above all other foods.
At 32 I was waiting. Waiting for my life to start. For something brilliant to happen, anything really. And then C-Monkey arrived. You could say he quite literally snuck up behind me and shoved me so f***ing hard I still have the bruises.
Earlier this month health secretary Andrew Lansley hailed the 'fantastic' achievements of hospitals across England after the results of this year's national cancer patient experience survey showed three out of five hospital trusts have improved the level of care and support they provide to cancer patients... but it's not the whole story.
Yesterday, as Cancer Research UK and Channel Four announced the launch of Stand Up to Cancer, I felt a new era had dawned for televised fundraising in the UK.
My mother died on 2 February 1998, from breast cancer - she was 51 years old. I come from a family of five, me being the youngest, with three older brothers and one sister. We grew up in and around Dublin and in many ways were a typical Irish family. Our Mother was our rock - her passing left a huge hole in the lives of us kids and my dad. To see her gradually succumb to breast cancer, despite the bravest of fights, left us questioning everything we thought was fair and right with the world.
By 2040 over four million over-65s will be living with cancer in the UK. That is one in four of all over 65s and almost double the proportion in 2010.
We're engaged in an epic battle with the tobacco industry over plain packaging.