It has been a mixed week of excitement, ruthlessness, sleep and sadness.

Thursday was the first day I got up after the operation. I was feeling quite bright although I was still looking a funny colour and feeling very run-down.

It seems a bit strange having my mum help bathe me and dress me when I am 41.

On Friday things started out sensibly enough. I got up, Tom helped me wash and we went over to see my surgeon and get my dressings removed.

Then it happened. Suddenly on our drive back from the hospital I had a flashback of a nice little yellow convertible Tom and I had passed on our cycle ride the weekend before my operation.

The garage was nearby and the words "shall we just go and have a little look" seemed to roll off my tongue. So many people have asked me if I would do anything crazy but so far I have been moderately reserved and definitely sensible.

But irresponsibility has come to play.

We cannot really afford it and I will probably worry about money when the excitement settles down but I have worked out I won't leave Tom with any debts and it won't eat into the children's inheritance.

I have justified it by saying I have a completely new image. I have gone from bald and boobless one year ago to having platinum blonde hair, huge breasts and a bright yellow convertible. It's a little bit late in life but what fun.

On Saturday the call came to say the car was ready to collect. I was so excited and pulled on my jeans and then, oh dear, blood absolutely everywhere. I had started haemorrhaging again. Tom cleaned me up and helped me change.

I was desperate to go for a spin and show the car off to all my friends and family but unfortunately I started to bleed so it was back to bed for me and another call out for the district nurse. There's always tomorrow ... ?

I have written a letter to Jacob and Lewis with suggestions on how to deal with certain situations after I have died. It made me cry writing it but hopefully it will prove to be a comfort to them later on in their lives and something they can refer to if they are having difficulties.

On Monday I had such a fantastic day. I had my first singing lesson with my teacher Jordan. Although she is extremely unwell herself, she contacted The Argus after reading a previous article in which I said I couldn't sing and offered her services to teach me.

I have written a song for my loved ones and hope with Jordan's help to put a melody to it and learn to sing it ready to record for my funeral.

She's an amazing woman who has given me so much motivation, enthusiasm and strength. Jacob, Lewis and I are making a recording of Thank You For The Days. It's a great tonic I want to sing for ever.

Tuesday started nicely with a facial but when I got home there was a message from my friend Jean's husband. I instantly feared the worst.

Jean was a wonderful lady who I met in hospital in August 2005 when I had my hysterectomy. We shared a ward with another lovely lady called Ann and had a fabulous stay.

Jean's cancer was diagnosed during a routine operation. To my knowledge she had never been given a terminal prognosis. Ann used to tease us because we used to sit up in our hospital beds getting our make-up on ready for visiting. We weren't going to let standards slip.

It was awful to hear and feel Jean's husband's sadness. Death seems so cruel and I feel like part of that cruelness in a way because if you love someone the last thing you want to do is hurt them.

How can anything take away the pain and hurt death brings?

All I know is that I will want my loved ones to stay in touch with positive thoughts and happy memories and never forget how much I love them and enjoyed every minute of life they gave me. I don't want them to ever forget me but I would like to think they can move on in a different direction after I am gone. My death is my ending, not theirs.

My thoughts, sorrow and best wishes are directed towards Jean's husband and her family this week and my gratitude is directed to Jean for being an inspiration to me and maintaining her sense of humour and fun throughout very unfunny times, keeping my batteries energised, for making the effort to come to my Christmas party when she felt rotten and for the little plastic duck she gave me as a gift when I was in hospital.

On Wednesday I saw my healer and felt a lot brighter so I went up to the school to collect the boys as a surprise.

Maybe I did too much as it made my back quite swollen and painful. Jordan phoned me she's being taken into hospital for an operation on her brain. She's a lovely, brave woman and I cannot believe that with her own health problems she is still doing so much for me and my family.

This world is full of totally amazing people and although I have always believed that most people are basically good, my situation has proved to me that most people are fantastic and I actually thank the cancer for that.