The knowledge that one day we will die is hardly a revelation. How we’d choose to leave this mortal coil, if given a choice, is another matter entirely.

A sudden fatal heart attack – or being hit by a truck – will deliver swiftly agonies of protracted personal illness, pain and burden on family.

Most of us would opt for a swift death rather than face a long, lingering battle with disease or painfully slow deterioration of mind and body.

If you asked me that question before I was diagnosed with terminal cancer I would have chosen swift and sudden. Now I am the main character in this real-life movie there is nothing hypothetical about the reality of the situation and I am so glad that cancer did not kill me swiftly within days or weeks of diagnosis.

I am alive, and have been for 18 months since learning of the cancer that would kill me. During these months, I’ve had tearful and difficult moments. There have also been painful surgical procedures, emergency ambulance journeys, and periods of extreme fatigue and gruelling side-effects from chemotherapy – and, more recently, the addition of two brain tumours affecting speech and facial expressions.

I have had wonderful moments with my wife, family and friends during those same months. Every day lived in sharp focus and appreciated with a new feeling of worth. I have been allowed time to prepare myself and those closest to me.

It sometimes seems like a scene from an old-fashioned movie where the main character is able to watch people attend his funeral and hear them talk. Secretly, I think we’d all quite fancy being able to hear and see that – in the hope that the majority would have some nice things to say.

By writing this column, and my own use of social media, many of the people I have met and known in my personal and professional life are aware that I am on very limited time, being kept alive through vigorous anti-cancer treatments that will eventually be overcome. I have received personal messages from pals I haven’t seen since school – from journalist colleagues around the world whom I didn’t think had me on their radar.

A great school friend who remembers tiny details of our teenage friendship and even what we did on my 15th birthday. A journalist who has always remembered that I made sure to forward his football medal to him after he left the paper we worked for – he tells me he has always treasured that medal and valued the effort I made to ensure he got it. How nice and how odd that this little thing should be remembered by him for 30 years.

A good friend I worked with on the Evening Times in the 1980s writes out of the blue from London where he is now a successful freelance artist. His words are personal and touching – and I am immediately transported back to the boisterous and joyful times of an era long since passed.

I’ll treasure my life’s memories and the love of those around me every minute of every day I have.

Ally McLaws is a freelance specialist in writing, business marketing and reputation management. See the full range of services and view back issues of this column at www.mclawsconsultancy.com