As someone who lost her PE kit sometime in Year 8 and had not knowingly done any form of exercise since then, Anna’s announcement back in May that she’d registered to run in the Cancer Research UK Race for Life appeared to be somewhat out of character. When I finally asked her why she was doing it, she looked at me as though I was slightly simple and said, “for you, of course!” This could be some indication of how much I have resisted, and continue to resist, thinking of the giant cell tumours that led eventually to my amputation, as a form of cancer. Indeed, when my surgeon mentioned cancer and malignant in the same sentence last week while discussing the plan for long-term monitoring, it was all I could do not to put my fingers in my ears and go blah blah blah blah until he’d moved on to a different topic. But today, as I, Nurse Jackie and Alfie-the-personal-pet-as-therapy-dog stood cheering for Anna and the thousands of other women walking or running for those they had lost, or celebrating the lives of those still with them, I couldn’t stop my tears from flowing. Anna made over £1300 for Cancer Research UK and her mother incredibly proud. I’ve told her I’ll do the race with her next year – just so long as no one mentions Oscar Pistorius and his carbon fibre blades.