This afternoon my husband and I had a good old fashioned cry – I was more a blubbering mess and Serge was more controlled with the number of tears let loose.

This afternoon we went to see 'Me Before You' at the cinema. Serge had no idea what he was in for, he simply heard the word ‘movies’ and decided that he must accompany me. However, I had planned to see 'Me Before You' since I heard that it was being made into a movie.

I had read the book by Jojo Moyes twice – before my cancer diagnosis and after. It is a bit of an epiphany writing that because it is quite right, my life is now defined by life before my terminal diagnosis and life since – life since living knowing that I am dying.

In January, I was sitting down with a palliative care team discussing how I wanted to die. I did not ask about what I could expect. I didn’t ask about the pain I would feel. I did not ask about how I will lose my independence. I already knew what to expect from my last months or weeks of my life.

Instead, I told the palliative care team what I wanted. I told them how I wanted to die. I wanted to die in my family home. I did not want to spend my last days in a hospital. I wanted to die in the bed I share with my husband. I did not want to be forced into a single hospital bed away from my husband.

I know that my last weeks aren’t going to be nice and I am either going to be in pain or out to it on painkillers, but all I can wish for is an ounce of control. Control that cancer would slowly take away from me.