I have now read the entire Cancer Research website on failed treatment. I had trawled the Macmillan forums for other people who had failed the chemo/radio exams. I now understood immunotherapy. I had mentally prepared for: a full neck dissection; tongue removal and; voice box eviction. I had researched the workplace ill-health retirement policy and had my trigger finger ready.

We arrived 45 minutes early because, clearly, I was eager to receive my devastating news. The Rock had a coffee. I stared out the window like a Dickensian orphan wondering if this was the last time I’d see the sky.

Dr Lump and The Oracle came in and must have seen our faces. We were radiating doom.

“Why the long faces? It’s not bad news.”

EH??????? The Oracle explained that they don’t discuss over the phone as there are always more and more questions which is better face to face. Not helpful.

The cancer is still there, but it hasn’t spread. During my increasingly frantic emails, I had mentioned that the golf ball had vanished from my neck about a week after the scan. Another glamorous camera-up-the-nose expedition confirmed things were heading in the right direction. I am still scarred and a little swollen, but the sat-nav map is correct. It’s just slower. How dare they? I am slow at NOTHING. If they had at least told me there was a speedometer, I would have tried to heal faster.

So now I have to wait another two months and repeat the whole thing. More waiting. This is absolutely my favourite part of the journey.

LESSON 28: IT’S INEVITABLE. YOU WILL IMAGINE THE VERY WORSE. IT’S YOUR MIND PREPARING YOU FOR THE WORSE CASE SCENARIO. JUST TRY NOT MAKE IT INTO A SHAKESPEARIAN TRAGEDY.