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They couldn’t fix it. Couldn’t take it away. But my family – loud, loyal, and a little mad – made sure we never felt alone. Even if it meant my face ended up on every fundraising bucket in Ballymena.

They weren’t just nurses - they were lifelines. They held me through the worst nights and never flinched. They knew my veins better than I did. They timed my anti-sickness meds like magic. And they still made me laugh… even mid-sick bowl.

Some dates stay with you forever. June 30, 2009: the day a waterslide collision led to my first kiss with the boy who'd become my husband. Ten years later, cancer had rewritten everything - but it didn’t stop me planning the day we’d been dreaming of all along.

I planned most of our wedding before I even got sick. At the time, it felt like madness. Later, it felt like fate. Because when the chaos hit, it gave me something to focus on. A promise to myself: there’s more life after this.

Everyone else had This Is Me. I had Hugh Jackman belting From Now On while I lay in a bubble bath trying to forget about chemo. Not the soundtrack of survival anyone expected, but it worked for me.

I swore I’d never get a wig… until I found myself in a tiny boutique full of colour and character. An hour later, I walked out with hair, a grin, and a new mission: fix Scotland’s ginger wig shortage.