What if I did have a terminal form of cancer? Who would look after my children? What about my will? Are my papers in order? Who would have the horrendous task of going through all my possessions, and what would they think of me when they did? I'm just so so lucky I'm going to get over this and I promise never to complain about the chemo again! In fact I'm going to start to love my chemo. As Mrs T said "think of it as the black knight. He's not a very nice person but he's in your body to kill of the evil invader". I've decided my black knight is tall, dark, handsome. Rather sexy in a bad boy kind of way. He obviously had some terrible childhood trauma that's left him hating and distrusting the world. He has no fear of danger and never lets anyone get to close to him. I'm actually falling quite in love with him! When will I learn.