I recorded my life story for my children when I was diagnosed with cancer

Last year, I wasn’t sure that I would make it to Christmas Day. I had recently discovered that my breast cancer was terminal,  so my friends and family came to my house because they thought it might be my last Christmas.

But it wasn’t. And this year I’m not worried as December creeps closer – I’m feeling well and looking forward to celebrating.

It was May 2016 when doctors told me I had months to live, but the worst thing was telling my children. My husband Dave and I decided to wait a month, until their exams were over, and when the day came, I was lying in bed. Matthew, who is now 18, started to cry, and Georgina, 20, said, ‘Mum, you can’t expect me to go to your funeral.’

Afterwards,  I lay in the middle of them, holding their hands.  I realised that I had so much to say to them - but I didn’t do it immediately as we tried to keep family life normal; probably a bit in denial.

Then one day, just as I was arriving for an appointment at Princess Alice Hospice in Esher, Surrey, not far from our home, one of the nurses said, "Suzanne might do it."

"Do what?" I asked.

She introduced me to Barbara Altounyan, who explained that she had started a charity, The Hospice Biographers, which voice-records the life stories of terminally ill people, for their families to play back. I decided to give it a go.

Over a cup of tea in a quiet room there, Barbara guided me chronologically through my life. I got a bit muddled with dates but when I suggested we start again, Barbara said, "We won’t do that: we’ll just have a part one and a part two." 

So the first interview was more about my career with the police, since joining as a cadet aged 17, and the second – also 40 minutes long – was about my family and friends, and meeting Dave in 1989.

Raking over memories wasn’t sad as I had half expected – instead it was positive, cathartic, even. My children weren’t going through my mind, but now the recording is finished and I know it’s there for them, and I’m comforted by it. I hope they might find some bits funny – we are a very positive family – and if they have their own children, they’ll be able to say, ‘This is your grandma speaking,’ which is lovely.

The interviews are stored on a USB stick that we keep in a filing cabinet at home, so when the children want to listen they just have to ask Dave. Right now, though, none of us likes to think about that. 

I am 56 and it has been over a year-and-a-half since my prognosis of a few months, so I’m content living for the day-to-day and focusing on short-term milestones: this year my nephew got married. (Afterwards, my sister and her new daughter-in-law were hugging each other and crying because I’d made it to the wedding.)

Next July Georgina will turn 21. And Christmas is a milestone, too. I was told I had a few months to live, but this is my second since then. That alone is worth celebrating.

As told to Bibi Lynch