Me, Myself and Cancer

Me, Myself and Cancer I was 42, a husband and a father, when I was told I had terminal cancer and might only have two months to live. Now I want to help others face cancer head on.

It was a devastating diagnosis and yet, almost three years later, I continue to defy the odds.

Navigating the seasons when you're living with a terminal illness can be a profound and emotional experience that many p...
07/09/2026

Navigating the seasons when you're living with a terminal illness can be a profound and emotional experience that many people and families face.

For me, summer is over. NOT SO FAST! I hear some of you say. Summer isnt over yetl! It all depends on which definition you use. Are you a meteorological or astronomical kinda person. I'm not here to debate that. I like neat little blocks. And I'm tired. SO VERY TIRED ha-ha So, for me, summer is over 😊

It isn't doom and gloom though. I welcome the change. I'm ready for it. Yes, there is still a little nostalgia for those long warm summer days, and that's completely normal, but autumn is my favourite season. I love nature's display of brilliant foliage, the smell of the rain and the crisp, clear air. I also love the back-to-school feeling I get when my daughter is someone else's problem for most of the week 😂

For some, however, there can be a sense of sadness or anxiety that comes with the seasonal shift. As seasons change, it can be common to experience a quiet grief for the periods of the year that you may not see again. I'm no different, and I'm left wondering if this will be my last autumn. Maybe you look a lot different to autumn last year due to declining physical health.

What I've noticed is that time has shifted from an abstract concept into something deeply tangible since my diagnosis. It's no longer measured in years, but by the changing of the seasons. Somewhere along the way my perspective changed from linear thinking to cyclical and, instead of looking forward to a distant future - which can be really painful - I prefer to focus on immediate anchors.

In 2023 I was given three months to live and so, my first goal became to live for three months. And then another three months... That's probably why I like to think of each season as being three distinct months. There's a milestone effect with each one becoming a major achievement. To me, having one more autumn represents a hugely tangible and deeply meaningful goal.

I have to focus on the present, and I choose to look at these transitions positively. That way I can reframe it around what lies ahead. There's an immediate beauty and comfort available to me right now. My summer is BUSY. I'm looking forward to the cosiness that comes with autumn. The shorter days and movie nights. The autumn blankets and seasonal events. Its a time to rest and recharge.

My daughter was four years old when I was diagnosed. Now, she's a beautiful eight-year-old girl starting Year 4. It's another huge milestone. I wasn't expected to see her make the transition from nursery to school and there's something... a sense of order and continuity to these feelings when my internal physical health feels altogether... unpredictable.

However you feel. Remember, you are allowed to take things at your own pace, whether that's one season, one month, one week, one day, one hour or even one moment at a time. Starting a new season can sometimes feel daunting, but you don’t have to do it alone.

Jim xx

I know that I will (likely) die of cancer. The doctors tell me that I will. Statistics tell me that I will. The numerous...
25/08/2026

I know that I will (likely) die of cancer. The doctors tell me that I will. Statistics tell me that I will. The numerous friends I've lost to this awful disease tell me that I will. That doesn't mean that I'm ready to give up though. And I never will.

Those who have been following me will already know by now that I'm not taking this lying down. Three years ago I was given three months to live. Well, I said b@llocks to that (apologies for the crude language, although if ever there was a time for swearing, it's when you're living with cancer).

I've radically changed my diet and lifestyle. I've had medical treatment, and I've adopted a range of complimentary therapies. I chose to be positive; to live with hope by my side; to live the best life I possibly can. And I do it all because of this amazing little girl.

Yesterday was another daddy and daughter day. These are the best days. They bring the most joy. They also bring the most pain. Often at the same time. I've been able to accept everything that has happened to me these past three years, because I can't change it, but I will never accept the idea that I have to leave my beautiful baby.

That's why I fight. Even now I'm crying as I type these words, but I never stop myself from crying. It isn't a sign of weakness. Our vulnerabilities make us who we are. They make us stronger. More determined. I might be the one expected to die but it's so much harder for those we leave behind.

My heart goes out to anyone who has lost someone to cancer: a loved one, a parent, a child (no matter how old), a sibling, a cherished friend, a colleague, a celebrity... even someone you didn't know. You might even be grieving while the person is still alive. I grieve for the future I expected to have, and it's a deeply profound and painful part of living with a terminal diagnosis.

I want to say that's okay. It isn't okay, of course. But it is completely valid and normal. You don't have to force positivity. You don't have to feel grateful or strong every single day. Cancer, and the many (many) emotions that comes with it moves in unpredictable waves rather than a straight line.

So, grab the person that you love and tell them that you love them. Because life can change so quickly. I had the best day yesterday. I don't take anything for granted, but I feel like I have many more best days to come. And my daughter, well, she's the best of all ❤️

Jim xx

Well, I made it to the summit of Snowdon 😀 It may not go down as a great physical achievement (the train did all the wor...
22/08/2026

Well, I made it to the summit of Snowdon 😀 It may not go down as a great physical achievement (the train did all the work after all), and it's unlikely to ever be recorded as a feat of mountaineering - but that didn't stop me buying a certificate and medal from the gift shop haha - It is, however, still a highly memorable bucket-list experience.

There are many people living with cancer who can still climb, hike, walk... but I have limited mobility these days. I may have sat comfortably in a carriage while the diesel engine tackled the 1,085-metre ascent, but I was still in so much pain by the end of the day that I wondered if this really had been purely for pleasure.

My point is, it doesn't really matter. I work within my limitations. Three years ago I could've easily climbed a mountain - I did Scarfell Pike no problem - but those days are behind me. Besides, this was truly one of my favourite experiences, and there's still something truly remarkable about standing on that summit. It makes you think... maybe.

I loved the history of it all, the rack and pinion railway tracks, the value of taking it all in purley as a visitor. I learned things I wouldn't have if I'd gone by foot about the mountain, the railway and its Welsh heritage. It's a journey of deep reflection and quiet appreciation, and the views alone at the top make it worth it (plus it's one of the most accessible ways to experience a mountain summit in the UK). It gives you time to absorb it. Truly special.

We're all different. Every cancer journey is different. I'm not necessarily always looking for a thrill ride - although I do want to return and go on the fastest zip line in the world! - I like the gentle rhythm and the sound of trains. Its been so important to me to be true to myself since my diagnosis. No-one else is going to tell me how to live my best life.

So, what's next? Well, I've always wanted to take the 'Eiger train' along the historic Jungfrau Railway in Switzerland (through the Eiger mountain and up to Europe's highest railway station). That will likely be next year now though because we're already planning on going to Iceland in October. That's been on my list a long time now. I don't know how long I've got, but I'm determined to make the most of it.

These are my adventures, what's yours?

Jim xx

Got my next scan date through for Thursday, September 10th 🥸 A lot of the time I already feel as though I'm living on bo...
20/08/2026

Got my next scan date through for Thursday, September 10th 🥸 A lot of the time I already feel as though I'm living on borrowed time. Living with terminal cancer can be like that. Less than 10 per cent people survive three years with my cancer type, and that number drops to less than five per cent for people living beyond four years.

Still, I don't think about that too much. Since the start I've been focused on living my life as much as possible. In fact, even more so after getting my diagnosis. I don't wanna stop. I'm having such a good time 😀

I've never been someone to think, just because I have cancer, that I can't do anything. If you only focus on that then living with cancer is going to be very hard indeed. I try not to tell myself that I can't do something, or I can't go somewhere. Of course, there are daily considerations and compromises, but you have to do the things you wanna do.

I've just got back from a few days away at Thornwick Bay (Flamborough), and now I'm on the way to Snowden in Snowdonia, Wales. My mountain climbing days might be behind me, so we've booked a train to the summit. Life isn't always like this. There have been plenty of periods when I've needed more treatment and, like everyone, I can feel really low.

That's why scans are so worrying for me. They dictate if treatment is needed or not. I have to keep moving forward though. I do count myself lucky to have so many wonderful things to live for; things that I enjoy; that I'm passionate about. I get to wake up in the morning with a sense of intent and purpose which, if nothing else, takes my mind away from focusing too much on... well, you know 😏

Thanks for all your continued support. I haven't been on here as much lately and I'm finding other ways to survive that don't rely on social media. The truth is that I'm much happier off screens. It took me a while to figure that out, but I'm still here. I'm still standing with you 😀

Ta ta for now. Jim xx

Concerning news online this morning. Reform UK have said that it would scrap the disability payments system PIP as part ...
16/08/2026

Concerning news online this morning. Reform UK have said that it would scrap the disability payments system PIP as part of a wider aim to cut about £50bn from the benefits bill if it comes in to government. Labour calls this "fantasy economics."

I generally try to stay clear of politics on here because everyone is entitled to their own opinion and, usually, everyone is right... although there are also a lot of people who confuse opinion for fact. This is something that would potentially affect me though.

The first thing I would say is that I do think that the UK has a benefits problem. It simply isn't sustainable and doesn't encourage people to return to work or find a job. However, I also think that standard benefit amounts (not including PIP) are too low to live on and we know that many claimants are being forced into severe hardship, food banks and poverty. Despite what some people might think these days, there are people - vulnerable people - who genuinely rely on disability benefits.

As someone who is living with a terminal illness, I automatically qualify for PIP. My disability, among other factors, also means that I'm unlikely to ever return to work. That said, a lot of people with cancer do work, and still qualify because (currently) it's designed to help with the extra living costs associated with long-term physical or mental health conditions where a person has difficulty doing certain everyday tasks or getting around because of their condition.

It isn't clear at the moment who would benefit from the proposed 'Health Security Allowance', which would replace both PIP and the Universal Credit health element - more information is expected tomorrow - but it's understood that only the most "severe, enduring and high-risk cases" would receive cash support.

Again, I don't think that PIP is always fit for purpose, and I agree it requires a fundamental change, but I don't see how stripping support from disabled people and shifting costs onto employers is the answer. As far as I can see, all this does is penalises genuinely vulnerable people rather than fixing the root economic problems.

I'm not a fan of Reform. I'm not a fan of Nigel Farage. I find that their policies are often "half-baked." BUT. They make some good points here. A lot of employers do need better sickness programmes, there should be more support for people out of work (Reform says it would spend an extra £1.85bn a year on interventions such as cognitive behavioural therapy, physiotherapy and employment support), and young people need more protection (Reform is also promising to align the system for anxiety, depression and ADHD in young people with the adult system). We also need to cut the National Insurance contributions paid by employers, which the party says it would do.

Like most things, the debate is complex and opinions are likely to be sharply split. Labour says it is already reforming welfare by narrowing the gap between Universal Credit standard and health rates, restoring face-to-face assessments, and investing £3.5bn in employment support to end the culture of people being signed off and written off, but what do you think? What about Reform's proposals and cuts?

Jim xx

If you want to know what living with cancer is really like, well, it's all afternoon teas and bingo really 😁 Not really,...
10/08/2026

If you want to know what living with cancer is really like, well, it's all afternoon teas and bingo really 😁

Not really, of course, but cancer tricks you into feeling like you shouldn’t experience happiness. And that simply isn't true.

One charity that knows this is Team Solan who have been helping children, adults and families across the North East affected by cancer for over ten years now. They know that, when one of their 'warriors' is having a bad time, and honestly, living with cancer and cancer treatment can be depressing, that even something as simple as afternoon tea and bingo can be enough to help them find some joy rather than sadness, anger or confusion. Even if it's just for a small moment.

Living with cancer, for me, is one of the scariest feelings, especially when I know that my cancer cannot be cured. I live with that thought everyday. And yet, most days, I also live with a lot of happiness. In fact, I’ve had a lot of happy memories while facing the hardest time of my life.

Even now, and I'm currently in a 'stable' period where I don't need treatment and my cancer is under control, I face even more challenges; mental and physical challenges. I’ve had many dark days, but I always see a light at the end of the tunnel.

So, when I get to experience little moments like today, it just eases the pressure to know that there is support there when it's needed most. I said yesterday that no one should have to face cancer alone, and charities like Team Solan are helping make that a reality.

If you think they could support you, or you can support them in any way, head over to https://teamsolan.org.uk/ to learn more about them now 🌟

Great day out today at Hardwick Hall Hotel where we met W***y Wonka and the Oompa Loompas in a world of pure imagination...
09/08/2026

Great day out today at Hardwick Hall Hotel where we met W***y Wonka and the Oompa Loompas in a world of pure imagination.

Huge thank you to Angel Trust for gifting us these (golden) tickets and getting us through the factory gates. It's nice to see that the chocolate river is still flowing.and I ate my brownie faster than a Wonka Whipple Scrumptious Fudgemallow!

When a charity does something nice for me, it can bring a great sense of joy, hope and relief. It can also break up the hard routine of what living with cancer is really like. It's a break from the illness, and it gives people like me and my family the mental strength to keep fighting.

Even a small act can make a person feel valued and less alone during a dark time. For me, it's a chance to make happy memories as a family; to share smiles and make each other happy. Because happy moments lower worry and calm the body resulting in less stress. I could do with a few more happy moments right now.

If you are facing cancer alone, now might be the time to reach out to a local charity or support group because they can provide kindness as well as practical and emotional support during difficult times. Plus, in my experience, being part of a community helps to create a sense of belonging that might otherwise be lost.

Let me know what kind of support or gifts you've received 🌟

Jim xx

In April 2023, I was diagnosed with testicular cancer. The good news was that 98% of men survive their diagnosis. The ba...
31/07/2026

In April 2023, I was diagnosed with testicular cancer. The good news was that 98% of men survive their diagnosis. The bad news was… the diagnosis was wrong. I was told that I could have as little as two months to live. I was 42 years old. I was a husband and a father. Now, after more than two years of living with cancer, I’m not just surviving, I’m thriving, and I want to help others like me meet the challenges of cancer head on and live well every day. This is my journey into cancer.

Latest blog post available to read now 👇

In this post I reveal details of an upcoming book, write about the challenge of living with cancer and discuss the real complexities of dietary supplements, informed decisions and misinformation.

Today is... today marks three years since I was told that I was expected to die of cancer. Not only that, but I was only...
25/07/2026

Today is... today marks three years since I was told that I was expected to die of cancer. Not only that, but I was only expected to live a few months, maybe even weeks.

My cancer (oesophageal) had already spread to distant parts of my body when it was detected. I was told that it was highly aggressive, difficult to treat and 7 out of 10 people die within 12 months of their diagnosis.

I don't take the fact that I am still here for granted. Every extra day with my family is a blessing because less than 10 people (out of every 100) will survive advanced oesophageal cancer for three years.

These photos with my daughter were taken later that day and show just how much she means to me. I was bald, sick and exhausted from the intense chemo I'd already had (to treat the testicular cancer I never had), and my prognosis had changed from cure to palliative care overnight.

I put my survival down to so many factors: conventional treatment, complimentary therapies, a positive attitude, loving connections, a strong will to live, diet and lifestyle changes, purpose and meaning, staying active, remaining hopeful...

If there is a magic cure, I haven't found it yet and, believe me, I've looked. I'll never stop trying though, for the people who love me,and especially for my daughter. Cancer won't beat me, even if it does lead to my death.

Living with cancer, and especially terminal cancer, is hard though. I'm not here to pretend that it isn't. I still get sad, angry, scared... It has changed how I think and how I look. I'm not the same man I was three years ago. How could I be. In many ways though, it's made me a better person. A better husband. A better father.

Cancer doesn't define us. Behind every diagnosis is a unique and deeply personal story of love, grief, resilience and hope. I'm still writing mine. I hope you are too ❤️

Jim xx

Someone asked me what living with terminal cancer was like. What do you say? For a start, it isn't any one thing. It's c...
22/07/2026

Someone asked me what living with terminal cancer was like. What do you say? For a start, it isn't any one thing. It's complex. At any one time there are several things happening all at once. Some good. Some bad. So for me, it all becomes about focus. Where do you choose to focus your attention.

If you only look at negative things then living with cancer is going to seem very bleak indeed. Look past that though and there's a whole world of wonder just waiting to be found. Like this Himalayn Garden and Sculpture park. I mean, I've never been here before.

Yes, there are daily challenges, and summer can bring even more. A lot of the time I'm physically exhausted. My emotions can vary wildly, and there are unpredictable changes that I never saw coming lurking around corners I didn't even know were there.

If you focus on comfort, love and connection though, I usually find that I come out on top (and if not you might need to change your expectations). It is possible to find peace, especially in gardens as beautiful as this... even with my daughter constantly saying she was bored ha and a bird pooped on me but that's good luck right 😁

Other than pooping birds, one thing a lot of cancer patients should be wary of in summer is bugs. The creepy-crawly type and the type you can get from large crowds. Cancer treatment compromises your immune system, putting you at higher risk of infection. Because of this I'm more careful I'm crowded places and I check for things like bites. From insects, you shouldn't have to check for human bites 😆 Even a minor infection can turn deadly when your immune system can't fight it.

A good tip for summer is to get an Access Card if you haven't already got one. This is recognised at thousands of events, attractions, venues and other locations across the UK and beyond. Mine shows that I need an essential companion, because I do, so my wife can normally get in free as my carer. Many places do free carer tickets, but you often have to take proof so it's always worth checking, even if it isn't shown as a ticket option.
https://www.accesscard.online/

I said yesterday that you don't need a long or distant trip to get a refreshing change of pace. A short weekend or local break can help and I find it more manageable to keep travel short. If you do go abroad though, I recommend using Insurancewith. In my opinion they are far cheaper, and much better. Plus, they were setup by a woman who had breast cancer because she was horrified at the insurance premiums cancer patients were being charged. It covers all sorts of chronic illness now though.
https://www.insurancewith.com

You lucky lucky people 😉

Jim xx

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