As I’ve said, when it was suggested that I might benefit from being referred to Prospect Hospice, I was shocked. Suddenly I was left feeling a sense of doubt about how much time I had left. Hospices are where people go to die, and I’d been told I could have up to eighteen months. I felt then, and still do, that I’ve got a lot of life still to live.

But then I discovered that there is much more to a hospice than just a place where people go to die. I was given an appointment with Sue, a Prospect Nurse, although I was still apprehensive. But Sue was very helpful. She offered practical advice and moral support. She arranged for Prospect’s physiotherapist to come and see me, and the occupational therapist too, and together they suggested practical ideas designed to help me cope with my condition and its symptoms. I was pleased, because I felt theirs was help that I could do with.

They persuaded me that it would be worth my visiting the Day Hospice one day, and I was reluctant, to say the least. In my mind, it would be full of people waiting just to die…I didn’t want any part of that. But I went, and I was very surprised. It was a pleasant atmosphere, and the staff and – more surprisingly – the patients I met there were ‘up-beat’. My nervousness gave way, and I felt reassured.

What really appealed to me was the fatigue clinic they run at the hospice. Since the hospital had discharged me, tiredness had been a big deal for me (and it still is, in some ways). Then, I was sleeping a lot, but that wasn’t what I wanted. Sleep was a waste of my time. The way I see it, the longer you’re awake, the longer you’re alive. I wanted to stay conscious, and I was fighting sleep all the time. Fatigue group helps you manage the amount you sleep, and develop a positive attitude towards it. It taught me techniques like prioritising what I wanted to achieve on a day, and to not worry about those things I didn’t need to do. Simple techniques, but they helped me. And it was the first time I got to know other patients. I’ll admit, I didn’t contribute much at first, but as I got to meet other patients, I realised that many of us were going through the same thing. Here were people who really understood what I was feeling. I began to open up. I’ve always been a private person, but fatigue group gave me the confidence to share my experiences. Put it this way, I wouldn’t be doing this blog if I hadn’t done it.

Just talking with the other patients was really helpful for me. I made friends from the group, some roughly my age, others even a little younger, and they all had some form of cancer. The hardest part was saying some of it out loud. Someone suggested that I was coping well. In fact, that wasn’t how I felt at all. I had been putting on a brave face since my diagnosis and, no, I wasn’t coping well. It was hard and uncomfortable to do, but admitting that something was wrong made things easier. In some ways it was a relief. I’m not the only person living with cancer, and the people I was with felt exactly the same as I did.

Fatigue group went on for six weeks. It wasn’t all about sharing experiences. We did light exercises with the physiotherapist and her team – sit-ups, press-ups, going up-and-down the stairs – and some of that helped me realise what I was still able to do.

I was asked then if I would like to join Day Hospice, and I didn’t hesitate to say yes. People don’t always understand what Day Hospice is about, but it’s something I look forward to a lot, and I know other patients do too. They wouldn’t come if they didn’t, I’m sure. In Day Hospice, you discuss your condition with the nurses, and you can take part in art therapy (as I do), or music therapy (which I don’t…it’s not my day!). You also get to mix with other patients on an informal basis, and that’s great for me. If you don’t want to talk, you don’t have to – you call the shots, really.

They’ve got to know me well now at Day Hospice. You’ve probably realised that I’m someone who doesn’t want to be fussed over. So I’ll get up and get my own drink, or lunch, and the nurses and volunteers know that now. If I can do something for myself, I will do it myself.

I look forward to my regular Thursdays at Day Hospice. Strangely enough, it’s probably the only time in the week when I forget about my cancer. In truth, my illness is always in the back of my mind. Sometimes it keeps me awake at night. Occasionally I’ll wake up crying. I’m as positive as I can be, but it can sometimes put me on a bit of a downer.

Sue Dunne, my Prospect Nurse, taught me something that has helped me cope with this. She suggested that I try not to think about my illness for just one day each week…and then, she said, perhaps I should allow myself just to think about it for one day each week. It’s a good way of looking at it…it doesn’t always work, but it’s something I try.

To Emmylou and Mumstheword…thank you for your support and encouragement. I hoped that people would read my blog. I can only manage to update it when I come to the Hospice, which is why there’s been a delay.

It’s difficult for me to answer the question about my remaining ambitions. My illness means that I have to approach every day with a desire to live it to the most and devote it to my family and those I love. What I would most love to do is take the missus to Canada and go exploring the Rockies. I’d also love to buy a big motorbike and thrash it up and down the motorways of the UK…but, for now, that’s going to have to wait…so the highway police can keep their speeding tickets in their pockets for the time being!

Next time, I’ll talk a bit more about my weekly visit to Day Hospice. You might be surprised at how good a time I have there…and I might even show you some of my paintings!