I've had eight near-death experiences - just spent 27 days wondering if time was up

With a life expectancy of just three years, now I've been living with incurable bowel cancer for two (with only 11% of people with my stage of the disease living longer than five years), I really thought I was prepared for the moment of being told it's terminal. I've written a will, and I followed my solicitor's advice about how gifting my Lauren Baker artwork could be problematic. I've visited a natural burial ground in a quest to find a nice place under the trees to rot away in an environmentally friendly box.

I've even worked out what songs I want played at my funeral and how much it would cost to hire an ice cream van for after the service. But when I received results from a recent PET-CT scan, I definitely wasn't prepared for what they might mean. I say what they might mean because they had found increased activity of "uncertain significance" in my upper spine.

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The "uncertain significance" meant it could be several issues, including the possibility that my tumours had spread from my bowel and up into my spine.

And to find out, I had to face an agonising wait for what a consultant called a "non-urgent" MRI scan. Then there was the wait for results.

From the day of the PET-CT scan to the results of the MRI, I spent 27 days just thinking about what it could all mean.

I classify cancer as my eighth near-death experience, and it is likely to become an actual death experience, unless I get stabbed on the way home one day. But it was still 27 days of worrying whether my time was up.

Twenty-seven days of wondering whether cancer of the spine would leave me helpless in my final days, in pain, and unable to do anything for myself. Would it hurt far more than bowel cancer has physically hurt so far?

Twenty-seven days of wondering how to tell people that their favourite person with the name Robert Fisk will soon be pushing up daisies.

But thankfully, this wondering came to an end this week with the information I was desperate to hear. The results of the latest scan show "no metastatic disease" in my spine.

I like to think it was a case that my healthy cells in my spine told the cancer cells to "f*** right off", so they didn't dare attempt it. But it's more likely to be a situation where the cancer cells in my bowel just thought: "Nah, it's a bit far to go. We'll just stay here where we are comfy."

Whatever was decided, I'm delighted to report that it means I still have enough time to keep leading the Daily Express's Cancer Care campaign.

But as my 27-day experience has taught me, this could change in an instant, so I really need your help.

Please sign the petition now so we can push for the Government and the Department for Health to ensure all cancer patients have access to mental health support both during and after their treatment.