Entering the unknown

None of us know our ending as such, only that our lives will end and I guess I am feeling that mine is a bit more advanced.

At the 24-hour relay for Cancer Research UK, which incidentally I thoroughly enjoyed, friends had had T-shirts made with my photo on and the words, remember to smile.

So many of my friends and family turned up to support the event and buy candles of hope.

Fran and Richard, the Brighton organisers, could not have made us feel more welcome and many readers of The Argus came over to meet me (some even asked for my autograph).

I really was made to feel so welcome and the whole event honed a happy and supportive atmosphere.

During the afternoon, although I was still buzzing from the lovely mood, it was apparent that I needed to go home for a rest which I did.

Unfortunately, and as desperately as I wanted to, I was unable to make it back to Stanmer Park as not only did the headaches and dizziness set in but I also started vomiting quite a bit.

Tom held us all together over the weekend and my mum Mavis has come across to help out for the time being.

On the Friday of that week, I was due at the Royal Sussex County Hospital to be measured up for some more radiotherapy. This time to the right cervical column in my neck.

My lovely GP organised transport and my mum accompanied me but at the time when they offered the treatment on the same day, it sounded like a great idea.

There is not a great deal to cope with in terms of the actual treatment itself but on true form I managed to become really sick afterwards.

We had Tom's niece Siobhan and her boyfriend Stuart staying over but I didn't feel strong enough to get up and at some point on Saturday night I awoke feeling extremely sick but was unable to move. Everything seemed to be paralysed but luckily for me I still found a voice and was able in my panicked tone to call out for help.

Lewis was staying with his dad but Tom and Jacob were soon at my side reassuring me and after I'd been sick a few times I managed to settle back down.

From there my days became a muddle. Both Rosie, my palliative care nurse, and my GP were liaising with their team and calling in regularly to me at home. We were juggling about with steroids again when, KAPOW, the nightmare set in.

My friend Neil had visited and because I was so tired and in bed, he was reading to me.

I remember virtually nothing but I apparently went into some kind of fit or coma and was unconscious for about an hour.

Tom was called but was working in London and stuck in traffic. There were four paramedics, my mum, Jacob and Lewis in the ambulance and Lewis got to ride up front. He told me afterwards that there were a group of his friends in tears watching from The Green opposite our house. I'd also like to thank the considerate local resident who came over to me and wished me all the best which I thought was a pretty special thing to do.

From the accident and emergency department at Worthing, I went onto the emergency assessment unit and now I am sitting in wonder as I write this from St Barnabas Hospice in Worthing.

Naturally, I had apprehensions about coming here, although I am quietly confident this is not my first, nor last visit.

Death is a frightening subject for anyone to face up to and I am quite naturally terrified - possibly even more so now as it gets closer and as dignity has always been a bit of an issue.

Yet I was surprisingly screaming out very loudly in pain while I was unconscious and there is too much of me to be very dignified.

The good news(ish) is that I have absolutely no recognition of the pain or indeed what really happened. It's as if my mind blocked it out.

Maybe it's a little like childbirth pain because I find it pretty incredible how I managed to forget the pain of Jacob's birth up until I had Lewis and now I don't recall that pain either.

Obviously, the difference being that I would willingly go through all that again and more if the end result were the same.

I feel really safe and comfortable here. The room is fantastic and the staff incredibly friendly. For anyone who has seen the film The Stepford Wives, I have told the staff here it is like Stepford staff, but not in a robotic way.

They have their own lovely personalities. Every one of them is so fantastic and I would be pretty hard pushed to suggest that there is any room for improvement - I am so impressed with everything and everyone.

Our intention is that I will return home. However, I will be stopping here for a little while yet to sort out medication, monitoring plans, etc.

I can't emphasise enough, how wonderful my care is and I continue to see myself as an extremely fortunate person.