People tell me I’m brave… the faces of these kids battling cancer this Christmas is what brave really looks like

To not have to spend my Christmas on chemo, to know I have a future.

But, for me, it's a pipe dream. One not even the magic of Santa can make a reality.

As I tactically play the chemo game, rescheduling my festive dose so there's a chance I don't spend all of Christmas Day vomiting my guts up and hoping I might be on a steroid high in time for New Year's Eve (every cloud!), it's just a reminder that cancer doesn't take a break at Christmas.

There are many of us, adults and even more heartbreaking, children, who will be spending this Christmas in hospital.

This year, The Sun has joined forces with CLIC Sargent for the Smiles At Christmas campaign and we need YOU to help.

There are kids like Alex McCarthy who could be facing their last Christmas.

I keep being asked what I’d like for Christmas. Truthfully, there’s just one thing I want… I wish to be cancer free

There are little ones like Victoria Calland, who's five, and was diagnosed with a rare cancer when she was only three.

There are youngsters like Jason Takor, the youngest known survivor of testicular cancer.

There's four-year-old Zaydan Springer, Callum Tolley and Reuben Virdee who will probably spend Christmas Day in intensive care as he battles a deadly childhood cancer.

I'm reading their stories in tears. People tell me I'm brave, but this is real bravery.

Christmas can be tough, a time for reflection, for giving thanks, a harsh reminder of those not around the table anymore, or those who might not be there next year.

But, it's also a time when the kindness and generosity of the British spirit shines through.

CLIC Sargent helps around 3,800 kids and young people every Christmas.

Those in hospital and at home - and that's not to mention their families too.

SMILES AT CHRISTMAS Help bring festive cheer to kids with cancer and support The Sun's Smiles At Christmas appeal

But, like so many charities their incredible work is dependent on donations, without them they can't support the 7,000 families they reach every year.

So any small amount you can give really can make a big difference.

Your donation will put smiles on the faces of Alex, Victoria, Jason, Callum, Reuben and Zayden - and the 3,794 other kids like them facing cancer this Christmas.

That's a lot of smiles, and a really big difference you can help make.

#C*CKOFFCANCER

Chemo cycle 17 is done. Over. One more down.

And after disconnecting myself from a mess of wires from the heart monitor I had strapped to me for three days, I glammed up for a night out with a fab gaggle of girls.

I'd never actually met these girls in real life.

But we've been flung together by the world of social media, because we've all got something in common.

As I approach my one year anniversary of diagnosis, it’s hard not to reflect on all the things I’ve gone through and how I’m grateful for another day

To a silent onlooker we looked like a regular bunch of 30 and 40-year-olds.

But we're all battling bowel cancer, some stage 4 like me, some having just had major surgery and all of us able to reality to the reality of steroid rage.

This is a stark reminder of how many faces of cancer there are, and it's certainly not the face you might imagine.

We all went to the annual Bowel Cancer UK carol service, where I had the privilege of giving the address.

Alongside the beautiful singing by Lesley Garret and the 4Tune Tellers, it was so lovely, humbling and emotional to meet so many people touched by the disease.

The thing that always strikes me is how, even when faced with the darkest of situations, there is hope, support and a desire to selflessly make sure no one else has to go through the gruelling reality that is cancer.

It's this relentless drive from supporters and the team at charities like Bowel Cancer UK, that give us all hope.

Hope that maybe just maybe we might spend more Christmases with our little ones.

This week, more than most, is a stark reminder for me, of what life was like a year ago BC - before cancer.

I was blissfully unaware, pretty smug with my life and looking forward to my secure future.

As I approach my one year anniversary of diagnosis, it's hard not to reflect on all the things I've gone through and how I'm grateful for another day.

On a more lighthearted note, has anyone else been using their Elf On A Shelf to bribe their kids this year?