Judy always fronts up for every suggested poke and scan and endures them gracefully. I think justifiably, one of these scans is about to get its marching orders.

Meeting in hospital, Judy and Sue have since shared a ton of memories, many over a caffè latte and a piccolo low tide latte.

Harking back a long time ago, Judy was admitted to hospital to have a little lump chopped out of her boob. The experience was made a little better by a plump little cuddly buddy.

Of Judy's connections, in the month or so just gone, some beautiful people have fallen foul of their disease. Mixed emotions ensue.

There is no denying that the symbolism of a simple pink ribbon has done an incredible amount in raising awareness and focus on breast cancer. But it's not done much to actually fix it.

The Day Oncology nurses are expert with a cannula, and also expert with kindness, and Judy and I are thankful for each and every one of them.

For most folks, knowing when to pull the cork, or these days unscrew the Stelvin on a fine wine is determined more by having some special event as a catalyst. We just forget about it until then.

Being in hospital is horrible and ironically the more sick you are, the more horrible it is. Of course, there's nothing like a mad Pole to take it beyond horrible.

A nasty infection resulted in five days of intravenous antibiotics in hospital, regular pricking and testing, and putting up with the incessant wailing of an horrendous woman in the bed next door.

If anything helps keep my beautiful Judy on this planet one second longer then it's gotta be worth a go. Often heard as a cliché, in this Christmas special story the wise mens' three gifts get honorable mention.

Pharmacies are usually viewed as a spot to buy makeup wipes, reading glasses, jelly beans and fill the odd prescription for antibiotics. But these places are a brilliant link between science and the community.

Judy and I recently spent some time in Amsterdam. We learned that the people of the Netherlands are patient, tenacious, resourceful, open to new ideas, learn from their mistakes, and are necessarily tolerant. Not unlike oncologists, really.

We've said to each other on many occasions that having cancer never slips your mind. It is always dominating the front of your thoughts. I know first hand that it never escapes my thoughts, even though I'm not the one with boobs that are trying to kill me.

Usually life's ups and downs are not as absolutely terrifying and exhilarating as a roller coaster, but in every day we feel a somewhat similar rise and fall of life. This can be deeply personal and introverted, or outwardly and extrovertly shared.

The mere things we have are certainly not the staff of life. If we consider all the things we accumulate in life, they rarely add anything to the impact we have on our cherished loved ones.

The greatest joys and pleasure are found in the simplest and most inexpensive of activities. This is hidden treasure, buried in plain sight right in front of us.

It's a natural instinct to protect children from the ills of the world. Where the world turns its ills towards the parent I guess there is a natural tendency to want to insulate them from it. They're tougher than we give them credit for, though.

I find writing about Judy's cancer journey cathartic, meaning it's good for my head. It also turns out that it's good for Judy's beautiful head too. Always an optimistic Pollyanna, sometimes her wonderful disposition is a handicap, and that's where me sharing a story or two can help.