Not a usual Monday

There’s nothing quite as humbling as being stretchered out of your house at 5am by paramedics, while the neighbours perform synchronised curtain twitching like they're auditioning for a remake of Rear Window: I hadn’t even had time to brush my teeth. Mortifying. Not a usual Monday!

Blue lights and sirens all the way to hospital. First time I’ve ever been in an ambulance, so at least I can tick that off the bucket list. Or in my case add it and then have the satisfaction of crossing it off. (Side note: if you do have a bucket list, might I suggest “not being horizontal in a tea-stained dressing gown under harsh fluorescent lighting” as one to avoid.)

Several hours and many blood tests and scans later, they sent me home, newly medicated and fast-tracked because of my cancer history. I’ve got to say, the NHS staff were phenomenal. Yes, the waiting times are bonkers, but the kindness, professionalism, and downright human decency of everyone I encountered. Bloody marvellous. Angels in scrubs, every single one of them.