“At least you've not got cancer”, a few people said to me after word of my diagnosis had got around. Or the more drastic: “It could be worse, you could be dead”.

On a bad day, I’d argue that these statements themselves disallowed me any level of suffering at all, implying I should just wheesht and get on with it. On a good day, I learned to just nod and “Yes, that is true”. Which it was, don’t get me wrong. Of course I preferred the alternative to death.