21st January 2016. 10 years ago today. 18 years old and I was told that the little lump on my shoulder that had been there roughly 2 years was in fact a deadly and ultra rare tumour. Having had no health issues in my life up until now, and having been told the lump was likely harmless, it was a lot to take in. 'A lot to take in' is an understatement.

7 months later, the cancer was confirmed to have spread to my lungs, and there was nothing they could do to cure it. I'd be monitored and treated for cancer for the rest of my life. Not only were my days numbered, I was guaranteed to need medical treatment for life, I was guaranteed to suffer, and I would never get my health back. My life was destined to be filled with uncertainty.

Reflecting on that day 10 years ago feels bittersweet. I am proud of how I've coped and how I handle my diagnosis today. I am glad to still be here and still be living a very full life. But I'm devastated that I have to live with this disease, and I'm sad for 18 year old Maddie who had to grieve the life she thought she'd get. I'm sad for me today still having to navigate the uncertainty of the disease and the limitations it puts on my life and the prospect of not having the long, happy, healthy life I want to have.

10 years with Stage 4 Cancer is a huge milestone. A milestone too many people never see. I will keep hoping for a long life and as much time as possible to experience all the good and bad that life has to offer - but I live knowing that every day I get is a bonus, and a privilege denied to many.

There is a sense of freedom that comes with an awareness of your mortality. It makes me grab life by the balls (or horns, or boobs, if you fancy). It makes me grateful for all the small and big joys in life. It's made me a very resilient person (that's taken me a while to admit to myself). I don't sweat the small stuff so much, AND I've met so many amazing people because of it. But, am I living each day to the fullest? Sometimes I question if I'm making the most of my time here. I wonder, if you knew you were dying, how would you live, and would you change anything about the way you're living now?

A few years post-diagnosis, someone I'd just met through a charity asked me whether I was cancer free now, and I told them my cancer was incurable. I was in my early 20s; when prompted, I explained that I didn't know how long I had to live.

They gave me a forlorn expression, and then said,

'You know what you should do?'

'What's that?' I asked (foolish, foolish - NEVER engage with unsolicited advice-givers)

'Travel. Travel the world. That's what I'd do if I had your diagnosis'.

I politely told them I love to travel and I do as much as I can. And then I let the conversation move on.

That conversation has stuck with me ever since because of how it made me feel.

I thought, you clearly haven't had to think too hard about the actual practicalities of living with a disease, nor the practicalities of dying.

You may be thinking, well, it makes sense - I'd do the same! I'd want to fulfil my bucketlist and live each day like it's my last!

What he said made me question whether I was living 'right'. Whether I was making the most of my time. I already live with internal pressure of making the most of every day, and guilt if I spend a day 'unproductively'. Most of us harbour a similar guilt, it's part and parcel of living in a Capitalist society - but maybe I'm going off topic here...

But living with cancer makes things so complicated. And living every day like it's your last just isn't possible.

One of my bug bears about living with cancer (of which I have... a few), is that even though at times people tell me I am - I am not special. I know that may come as a shock but sadly, it's true. Let me explain. I still get muggle illnesses (the common cold, for instance - which I think should be ILLEGAL when I'm already contending with the Big C), I still need to consider my general health and fitness outside of Cancer, I still need to hold down a job and manage my finances, I still have life admin and errands to run, I still have relationships to manage. I still have to get up every day and live like everyone else, but I am also living alongside a life-limiting disease. I have to remember to take my medications, manage my side effects, manage my appointments, remember treatment days and attend all the tests, I have to research my disease, I have to contend with a complex medical history. I have to put up with sudden changes to my life like new treatments, surgeries and procedures, or new side effects.

I still think about and consider my future, short and long-term, but always with the caveat of 'if I make it/if I'm healthy enough'. I'm always considering my Plan B and C, just incase Cancer gets in the way.

All of the above, means I can't simply live each day exactly how I want to. And I can't just go off and travel the world, even though I think I'd love that.

One of your first thoughts when you're told you're dying is survival. 'What can I do to survive this?' More often than not, the answer is medical treatment. Sadly, some people are given only a few weeks to live and no option of treatment. Unfortunately, at that point most of those people are too ill to fulfil anything that resembles a 'bucketlist'. At that point most of them have to consider their end-of-life options, care, how they want the end of their life to look, in a very short space of time. Life very quickly becomes all about your healthcare, and the simple things become the big things.

Author Bronnie Ware, who used to be a Palliative Carer caring for terminally ill people, has written a book called the Top Five Regrets of the Dying ( https://bronnieware.com/blog/regrets-of-the-dying/ )

Those most common regrets Bronnie observed are as follows:

1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

2. I wish I hadn't worked so hard.

3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

While I don't think we should obsess over our own demise, I do wish for death to be less of a taboo, something we can talk about openly without shame, fear or dismissal. The only thing we all have in common in life is that we will be born, and we will die. We should be safe to talk about our death, as the more we talk about scary things, the less scary they seem. I think if we all faced our mortality head on and considered our lives to be as short as they actually are, we'd all live differently. We'd be more present.

However, we should not be falling for the idealism of living life constantly at full speed. If you're constantly aiming for the unachievable, where's the time to sit and be content with the present moment?

Being sick and on treatment makes life more difficult. It's disabling. Doing all the things you want to do is no longer within your control. Cancer strips you of so much, taking many decisions out of your hands.

As Bronnie puts it: 'Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.'

Bronnie's Top Five Regrets have little to do with not travelling the world or 'achieving' enough. They have to do with being happy, being true to yourself, being honest about your feelings, spending time with people you care about.

On your death bed, you're unlikely to be thinking 'I wish I got to do that skydive'. You're more likely to be thinking 'have I told my sister I love her enough? have I left my family with enough happy memories?'.

We waste so much time in life thinking 'when I achieve this very specific Goal then I'll allow myself to relax and be happy.'

Well, hopefully you'll reach the Goal - but is there a way you can do that and create a life right now that serves you and feels good and true to you, too?

Is there a way you can have everything you have right now, and be content with your life? Then if you want more, it's something to work towards, without beating yourself up or hindering your access to happiness in the meantime.

'Live like you're dying'. It's an overused cliché. A motto to live by, for people who want to live big, do things that bring them joy. But to me, someone who is actually dying, the pressure to live large all the time is a burden.

Realistically, most of us cannot travel the world. With or without cancer. If I could take 12 months out of my life right now and see the world, I would. Even if I knew I only had precisely 12 months to live, I could not travel the world, my health wouldn't allow it, my finances definitely wouldn't allow it, and in fact, I would not want to if that meant being away from my loved ones in the last year of my life.

Over the last 10 years since my cancer diagnosis I've been asked by many people about my Bucketlist. I've always refused to make one. I think there's a fear factor there - a fear of failure. I have dreams, of course, and I have things I'd really like to do in my life before I'm not able to. Call me a perfectionist, but I hate the idea of having a list and getting to my deathbed with it being incomplete (reader, I'm not a perfectionist in the slightest - but still, that idea irks me).

Instead of having a 'List of Things I Want To Do Before I Die', I try to just live in a way that's very true to myself. As I said in my last blog, I'm learning to live more selfishly and chase joy. I understand myself very well, I know the habits that make me feel good and I know the ones that make me feel bad. I try new things and force myself outside of my comfort zone, as how else will I know what I like and dislike? I try to earn and save just enough money so I can spend it on things that I enjoy, working a job while prioritising my own life. I try to organise my time in a way that leaves room for spontaneity, but also prioritises spending quality time with my loved ones. I want to lead a life filled with love and happiness, but I accept that life comes with grief and heartache. I wouldn't want one without the other. All the emotions just mean I'm alive, and I'm doing it right.

On my Cancerversary each year, I choose to mark it. I'm going to feel a certain way regardless of whether I do something or try to ignore it, so I may aswell celebrate, right? So today I have plans to spend the evening with a few of my favourite people, to eat lots of cake, and toast a big 'fuck you' to cancer.

P.S. If you can, please consider donating to Sarcoma UK to support their funding for research into Sarcoma. Every little seriously helps as this is a very underfunded cancer despite having such poor prognoses. Thank you!! DONATE TO SARCOMA UK

Thanks for reading,

M x