I AM finally back to work this week, and it feels great to get out of the house and start again with regular life.

Not that it’s all settled quite yet. Earlier this week, I had my scans back up in Oxford, to measure how successful my chemotherapy has been. The results are due on January 15, at which point I’ll know quite how close to regular life I have returned.

Dealing with the uncertainty that goes with cancer is just one of the many ways that I leaned on the support of my family and friends over recent months. Although I am inclined to keep things to myself a little (not that this would be evident from my writing a column about it all), there were times at which I simply didn’t know or understand what was going on.

Cancer affects everyone, and Rachel, my wife, and my mum in particular were very good at helping me gauge what was happening, accompanying me to appointments and asking doctors the questions I forgot.

On top of that, Rachel insisted on accompanying me to every single one of my long days of chemo – something which I greatly appreciated. At least I had feeling ill to keep me entertained, and a bed to nap on; what she did for those long 10-hour sessions I have no idea.

Then there were my other friends who dropped in to see me, travelling from different parts of the country, many coming to Swindon for the first time, to keep me entertained in my long house-bound periods.

Added to this was practical support. I was gifted books by the dozen, to fill in the time. I was given lifts to and from the hospital. I was even sent surprise sweets, which largely managed a persistent chemo-related cough that everything else had failed to defeat.

Never before have I been blessed with such an array of fancy chocolates, sent by seemingly everyone I knew. Even my colleagues got in on the action, with books, wine and more chocolate.

To cut a long story short, I was very lucky. There are numerous charities out there, who do vital work in tackling testicular, male and all cancers, which I haven’t felt the need to contact yet.

All of which leads me, just when I thought I was done, to my little sister Amy. She is, and this will become relevant in a second, very attached to her hair. It is a big part of her identity, and it has so far been every colour in the rainbow.

In a week’s time, on the day I receive my results, she is going to shave it all off, to raise money for Orchid, a male cancer charity.

All of which goes to show how much those around me have been there while I have faced cancer. I genuinely couldn’t have done it without them.

You can donate to Amy’s fundraiser at https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/amy-hook1.