I have been in a very dark place waiting for the results of my scans. I have been convinced that I will get bad news from the doctors. I have been convinced that my time is running out. I have been filled with tremendous sadness for my husband and kids, for my parents and in-laws and siblings. I have had a head full of endless images of my funeral, of my husband trying to explain to our son that I am gone and not coming back, of my little girl floundering without her mum, of my husband alone in our bed at night crying his heart out, of my parents unable to cope with their loss, of the achievements of my children that I will never see, of the grandchildren I will never meet, of the places I will never visit, of the world events I will miss. I feel like I am stranded on a distant comet, hurtling through space on my own with the oxygen running out and no light reaching me. No one can understand this feeling. No one can reach me. No one can say anything that can console me. No one can pull me out of this. I am suffocating, drowning, panicking. I can’t eat. I can’t move. I am constantly in tears. I can’t communicate. I can just about keep it together in front of the kids but it takes a super human effort. Thankfully at the end of the day I am so exhausted I fall asleep, but when I wake up it all floods back. My previous levity and positivity and strength have vanished. I don’t recognise myself. I hope that I will be able to pull myself out of this once I have the results, whatever they are, but I am scared that I won’t, that I am going to be lost for good.