I’d first noticed a funny little lump on my chest in 2007. It was diagnosed as a popped ligament and my funny little lump stayed until December 2013 when I thought it wasn’t quite so little anymore. Another X-ray, ultrasound and CT scan revealed nothing sinister but I asked for referral to a consultant anyway because the lump had become uncomfortable.

I was in work when I had the phone call to tell me that everyone was surprised to find I had breast cancer. On what became known as ‘black Friday’ my surgeon took my hand and very gently told me that there would be no surgery as the cancer had already spread into my vertebrae.

I was diagnosed with adenocarcinoma with metastases; an unusual case in that my cancer was in my breast bone not in the tissue. I always have to be different!

Cancer left me feeling like I’d lost control over my life. The physical and emotional impact of the diagnosis meant I had to retire after working in the NHS for 34 years. Every twinge or headache made me think of the cancer spreading and my life was taken over by blood tests, scans and treatments with a diary full of medical appointments.

At various times on this journey I’ve called Tenovus Cancer Care’s Support Line and talked to one of the nurses. There were some things I didn’t want to subject my family and friends to. Talking to someone who didn’t know me meant I felt free to tell them anything and everything.

Regular treatment keeps the cancer stable. I’ve been using the charities Mobile Support Unit for four years and the care I receive there is superb. The staff are professional and empathic and I can greet them like old friends which makes treatment more bearable. I have my treatment closer to home, in wonderful surroundings, with special people in a state-of- the art facility. It’s amazing and I feel fortunate to have access to it.

It’s important to know that you can live with this disease. Years later the treatment is still working and I can enjoy myself, even if it’s at a different pace. I want others to know that it’s possible to live a full and happy life despite being told your cancer is incurable. The one thing we can cling onto is hope.