ABSTRACT
Wherever my body touches the bed, it feels as if my bones are trying to push through the skin. Chris, the lovely Macmillan nurse, brings a fleece to lie upon. She also brings warmth, friendship, support and compassion. She suggests I have a rest in the local hospice ‘just for a week or two’, but I don't want to leave my children. I know I've already turned the corner, even if she thinks I'm going to die.
