Of all the things people say to me on hearing that I’m losing my leg, the response that fills me with the most dread is “Look at Heather Mills! You’ll be dancing on ice before you know it!” I’ve spent much of my life avoiding doing anything as energetic as ice-dancing, or as public and potentially humiliating as being filmed in sequins and spandex, or anything else for that matter. I’m somewhat alarmed that, in my imminent one-legged state, this might be something I’ll be expected to do. That, or running a marathon or scaling a mountain or anything equally out-doorsy. I wish there was some “celebrity” amputee role model who was known for just getting on with their life and work with reasonably good grace, going to the cinema occasionally, taking the dog for a walk, having friends round for dinner, braving a public swimming pool, managing to walk all right on their NHS-issue prosthetic leg, and generally just being.