Ally McLaws

As I lie in bed the hours tick away slowly. The day is long and the nights are getting longer. The quality of life has slipped away and I hang on in the hope that it will return as the chemotherapy impact diminishes. If it doesn’t, then, well – it’s time for a rethink.

There’s been a lot happening in my life this past week – makes a change from the usual routine of pill swallowing, sleeping and shuffling about the place.

Ally McLaws

As you read this column this morning I will be linked by technology to a great pal of mine as he pounds the streets of Berlin raising funds for Macmillan Cancer Support.

I GET very dizzy halfway up the stairs. I stop, hold on to the banister and pause a few moments – then off I go like an old tortoise until I get to the top. It’s a humbling experience that requires a further few minutes on the side of the bed recovering.

I’ve never felt closer to the NHS in my life before … even when I worked right inside the beating heart of it for 18 years.

This was always going to be a week of high anxiety. The scan results were either going to deliver the devastating news that the new chemo trial hadn’t worked and it was time to face the final curtain.

Earlier this week my friend Bob arrived at our house to discuss arrangements for my funeral. We’ve known each other a long time through journalism – he’s a former national newspaper editor and now a qualified celebrant. Laura and I had talked about the need to organise my funeral – now the time had come to actually do it.

A DEAR friend of mine lost his daughter to cancer last week. He and his wife caught a last-minute flight to the UK from their Tenerife home to be with her as she slipped away peacefully.

When there were shortages of certain things in the supermarkets, we decided to create a wee “stock cupboard” up in our loft.