What are you doing right now?

Advice, please. How should you update your Facebook status at times like this? It's been bothering me for a while now, and I'm still not certain which way to go. As uncool as it is to admit this, I actually like Facebook. I'm good at it, too (and not in a way that bombards you with Super Wall posts or high-fives). I reply to messages, I make all the right comments about people's holiday photos, I

What are you doing right now?

By: Unknown on: 07:55

Back from black.

Well it's all go around these parts. Yesterday I walked to the nearest corner, had a bit of chicken with mash and green beans and made a joke (albeit a dreadful Mr T one but hey, cancer was never known for its humorous side effects). Then today I made it to the end of the street, washed my hair (in the chemo-standard Johnsons Baby shampoo, AKA honey), sang a bit of Let's Get Ready To Rhumble with

Back from black.

By: Unknown on: 11:01

The shape I'm in.

So what does chemo feel like? To be honest, it's completely different for everybody: like childbirth, no two experiences are the same. Want to know what chemo feels like for me? Because, no matter how hard I try, there is no possible way of telling you so that you'll understand. I'll give it a try, mind, but I bet I just can't even get close. And, just like chemo itself, I suspect that reading

The shape I'm in.

By: Unknown on: 10:46

From the Ritz to the rubble.

Glossy photoshoot to chemotherapy in less than 24 hours.  My life is as mad as a box of frogs.But get a load of this blogging-from-chemo lark – talk about dedication to the cause. Yup, here I am in my surprisingly comfy chair, enjoying the 'therapy' on offer. I decided to ditch the jeans today, and instead glammed up a bit for my chemo debut. There's a lot of hanging about in here though, so

From the Ritz to the rubble.

By: Unknown on: 08:45

Boobs and beer.

Man, cancer keeps you busy; I've barely had time to fart this week (apologies, I fear my Dad's jokes are rubbing off). The hospital visits, the haircut, the pub debut of the haircut, the getting-ready-for-chemo business, and all those daytime property shows I'm supposed to be watching. (I'm pleased to report, however, that I haven't seen a second of The Jeremy Kyle Show since I've been off work.

Boobs and beer.

By: Unknown on: 03:52

Hair today.

Today, for the first time since my diagnosis, I didn't get any mail. I almost accosted the postie on her way past the flat and demanded to double-check her bag, so convinced was I that she'd grown sick of stuffing parcels through my letterbox and instead decided to pocket today's delivery of get-well cards and exciting pressies. Spoiled brat or what? Just call me Veruca Salt. Apparently I've been

Hair today.

By: Unknown on: 15:56

The body beautiful.

I'm obviously feeling more comfortable with my body than I thought I was. P & I took our chance to escape to a very lovely country hotel this weekend, and I found myself perfectly happy to wander around our huge room naked – something I'm not used to doing (particularly in full view of a herd of deer). Dare I say I'm edging towards being proud of my body? Again, territory I am definitely not used

The body beautiful.

By: Unknown on: 14:03

The science bit.

Let the games commence! I've been at the hospital all afternoon and have come out with so much new info that I feel like I've had a crash course in another language. (Parlez vous chemo?) The next time you get a difficult cancer question at the pub quiz, consider me your phone-a-friend.Aware that today marked the entry point to phase two of The Bullshit, I made the emancipatory move of ditching my

The science bit.

By: Unknown on: 14:22

Lessons in online shopping.

My NHS-badgering has paid off: I finally have confirmation of my CT scan for tomorrow afternoon. And, as much as I resisted at first, I'm actually pretty good at being an annoying, give-me-an-appointment-now-or-I'll-call-you-every-20-minutes nuisance. I didn't take it to extreme lengths, mind – when one nurse said 'you need to appreciate how busy we are right now', I resisted replying with 'and

Lessons in online shopping.

By: Unknown on: 14:36

Crop idol.

It's T-minus six days until my pre-chemo haircut, and for the last week I've been wearing my hair up in protest. They say that getting a short hairdo before it all falls out is a way of taking control, so my 24-hour reliance on a hair clip must be bordering on control freakery. Anyway, fuck it. I'm not in control of much at the moment so this is about as close to a guilty pleasure as I'm

Crop idol.

By: Unknown on: 14:48

Down down, you bring me down.

My iPod isn't just your ordinary iPod. I reckon it's got some sort of situation-sensor or mood-manager. Seriously, Steve Jobs got carried away with this baby. My iPod knows me. Whenever I shuffle songs it knows exactly what to play. If I need a lift on a Monday-morning journey to work, it'll offer up Stevie Wonder, Prince and the B52s. When I'm feeling a bit introspective, it'll concede with

Down down, you bring me down.

By: Unknown on: 00:26

Analyse this.

Well at least my mini-series of date dreams ended on a high. Now it's all about the nightmares, thanks to my negative mindset of the last couple of days, and the fact that I'm currently on the Isle of Wight and thus not sleeping in my own bedroom.Am I the only person that happens to? The moment my subconscious recognises that I'm not in my own bed, it kicks into bad-dream overdrive. Our honeymoon

Analyse this.

By: Unknown on: 13:54

A gentle reminder.

Less than two weeks til chemo kick-off and still no sign of Dave Grohl.Sort it out, readers.

A gentle reminder.

By: Unknown on: 15:23

Let me get this off my chest.

'It's probably just a cyst.''I'm sure it will be completely benign.''If it turns out the cancer is invasive.'In case you require chemotherapy.''In the unlikely event that the CT scan shows cancer in other organs...'Yadda yadda yadda. Will someone give me a straight answer, for fuck's sake? At the hospital this afternoon (drainage session two) I backed Smiley Surgeon and Always-Right Cancer Nurse

Let me get this off my chest.

By: Unknown on: 14:58

Too few to mention?

I've been having a recurring dream. And, let me tell you, it's a welcome change to my usual one where I have to wait ages in the toilet queue of a busy club, only to find when I get to the front that the only available cubicle has no door, so everyone has to watch me having a wee. But I digress. In the recurring dream of the moment, each night a different boy hears from someone that I've got

Too few to mention?

By: Unknown on: 04:14

Magazine of the year, eh?

I'm really fucking pissed off with Grazia. And I'll tell you for why. (Thanks Bryn.)1. For assuming that I have £1,095 to spend on Halston boots (not to mention the necessary pencil-like calves).2. For its lazy celebrity reporting, all of which I can read on Perez Hilton (or hear from my friend Ant) before Grazia hits the newsstands. 3. For bagging brilliant TV columnist Paul Flynn and homes

Magazine of the year, eh?

By: Unknown on: 04:39

Sorry, Clinique.

Why has it taken all of this to make me realise that no make up = good skin?Dammit. That proves it, then: Mum is always right. (Well, apart from the time she tried to convince me that Gok Wan is straight.)

Sorry, Clinique.

By: Unknown on: 02:09

The no-kids clause.

Smiley Surgeon and Always-Right Cancer nurse were on good form today. They're right on my wavelength that, whatever news they have to deliver, it can't be worse than what they told me three weeks ago. Hence, they're always very chipper and matter-of-fact, and keen to talk tennis before cancer. There was a great moment today when my dressings came off for the first time, and we were all able to

The no-kids clause.

By: Unknown on: 13:50

Save Ferris.

My postie rang the doorbell again this morning, as she has done every day since people started hearing about The Bullshit. I joked with my surgeon that breast cancer has so far felt like having a Groundhog Day birthday, complete with breakfast in bed, cards, calls, letters, gifts, flowers, vouchers, cakes, visitors, chocolates, drawings from kids and a seahorse-shaped helium balloon. A mate of

Save Ferris.

By: Unknown on: 10:32

Hello boys.

Nobody ever enjoyed ill health (in particular the attention it brings) quite like my Grandad. After he had a double heart bypass, he spent the subsequent few years sitting in his chair breathing loudly, hand placed purposefully over his heart, just itching for someone to acknowledge it.



After my diagnosis, I joked that perhaps I could attract the same kind of attention by sitting with my hand

Hello boys.

By: Unknown on: 15:02