Welcome to a blog that no one signs up to write and a first hand review that no one asked for. I’m a cancer patient, which means I now have an extensive medical vocabulary and an intimate relationship with waiting rooms. This was not the character-building exercise I requested, but cancer is famously bad at asking for permission.

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This blog is about what it’s like to live with the diagnosis. The fear, the hope, the fear again, and the strange talent you develop for joking about things that would make some in society uncomfortable. 

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There are days when I feel brave and days when I feel broken. I don’t write to inspire. I write because pretending this is noble all the time is exhausting, and because humour turns out to be an excellent coping mechanism when your body becomes a long-term science project. 

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Cancer may be trying to kill me, but it hasn’t taken my sense of humour. Nor will it, I’m keeping that.