I vividly remember going into hospital for my first cancer treatment.
As I walked the mile between the hospital car park and the oncology ward, I felt completely alone, like I was the only person going through this.
Yet, when I reached the specialist cancer ward, half a dozen young people were sitting in the waiting room, people in their 20s or younger like me.
In a way, it was reassuring to realise I wasn’t the only one.
But, after a three-hour wait, as I lay under the lights of the radiotherapy machine, I wondered, again, how I was ever going to get through this.
At 23, I had been diagnosed with a form of blood cancer, Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I’d been getting night sweats for a couple of months and they had been gradually getting worse, then I’d found a lump on my body.
I went to see my GP and was referred for a biopsy, where they take …