Before I Kick the Bucket: The Whole Story

This film contains some scenes which some viewers may find upsetting

and strong language.

'I'm Rowena Kincaid, a fun-loving, hard-working 39-year-old from Cardiff

'with a lust for life and a laugh that'll make your ears bleed.

'I'm also terminally ill. I'm dying from cancer.

'I've been told that this year is likely to be my last

'and not to even think about making it to 40.'

When I was first diagnosed,

I was told I had three to six months to live.

'What would you do if you found out you only had months to live?

'Would you keep calm and carry on as normal?

'Set about achieving all of your hopes and dreams or say,

' "Sod this for a game of soldiers, I'm going streaking"?'

SHE SHRIEKS

'The first thing I did was to buy myself a car that I can't afford

'on three years' finance, jump on a plane to Cuba,

'get drunk and stage a sham wedding

'with a stranger I'll never see again.

'For the last 12 months, I've also been making this film

'for the BBC. You may have seen the first instalment last year,

'but this is the full story,

'including what's happened since the broadcast.

'It's a no-punches-pulled account of my life

'and my attempt to work out what the hell I'm going to do with it.'

This is the worst thing that can happen.

-There's nothing worse than this now.

-Apart from dying.

SHE LAUGHS

It says here, to join the mile-high club.

I still haven't done that.

'Because if these are my final months,

'I don't want to tick off a list of wacky cliches.

'I want to live well and treasure every single second.'

I don't want to leave this planet. It's too beautiful.

There's too many nice things to do.

'So, I'm on a mission to meet others in the same boat as me

'and see what they're doing with their lives.'

I will live every single day like it's my last.

So it's called three girls, two legs, two tumours

and one enormous mountain.

I've got too many things to do.

I know. I know, I feel that, as well.

'But I'm also going to fight this wretched disease.'

I've been looking forward to meeting my tumour,

I've got some really big swear words for it.

I wish I could punch it, or something!

And goddamn you, cancer, I'm going to make it to my 40th!

'I want to live beyond my prognosis, make it to 40

'and throw the biggest party for all my friends,

'but will that be enough?'

I don't want any more treatment.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

I'm going for a fake tan. I'm going to spray my bald head.

'Should I be doing more?'

I've been to plenty of funerals. I sit there and go, "Wow!"

If they were to write about me, there'd be nothing to say!

'What if I'm haunted on my deathbed by all the things I didn't do?'

I don't actually think it's that far off.

I am actually petrified of dying.

'I guess we're about to find out, so settle down and strap in,

'because this is my life, before I kick the bucket.'

I discovered my lump on a hangover.

For one moment, I still thought nothing was wrong.

They found a cyst or something similar, I thought,

and they're going to tell me to stop eating chips

or stop drinking alcohol, or something.

"Your results are back and I'll get straight to it.

"Your biopsy came back with cancer.

"I'm sorry to tell you you have breast cancer."

"You're having a fucking laugh."

'Last year, I was diagnosed with stage-four secondary breast cancer.

'There is no stage five. There is no cure.'

How could this be happening to me?

I'm too young. Really unfair, so unfair.

A girl in her prime, fit as a fiddle, and I've got cancer.

'This is likely to be my last year on this planet

'and I need to work out what the bloody hell I'm going to do.'

Make The Most Of Your Time On Earth.

'Everyone tells me I should write a bucket list.

'Apparently, that's what you're meant to do

'when you're terminally ill.'

They're all saying the same thing - get a tattoo,

visit every country, skydive...

It says here to join the mile-high club.

I still haven't done that!

But they're so cramped in those little toilets!

It's a little bit bollocks-y, really.

It is a little bit load of bollocks, isn't it?

I don't know.

I mean, it says here to be an extra in a film.

Well, I've always wanted to do that.

Imagine that, being a Stormtrooper!

'I've made and posted a video online

'in the hope of meeting other young people who are terminally ill

'and living on borrowed time.'

It might be that you have a bucket list

or you might think they're actually a waste of time and energy.

'I'll let you in to a secret.

'When you tell people on the internet that you're terminally ill,

'things tend to get a bit crazy.'

"What a lush girl!"

'Not only are hundreds of people now getting in touch,

'my story's been picked up by the media.

When I was first diagnosed,

I was told I had three to six months to live.

That's why I feel like I have to do stuff

to make the most of my life, while I feel OK to do it, at present,

before I'm on more treatment

and then it's treatment and treatment and treatment

and then it gets worse and there's nothing else I can do but give up,

I suppose. But I'm not going to give up,

because I've got this massive fire in my belly

and I just want to do stuff

but I'm not entirely sure what it is I'm going to do!

'Of course, there are thousands of things I could do,

'but when you've only got a few months,

'how do you know you're not wasting them?

'I've also got to be realistic.

'I'd love nothing more than to travel the world,

'but my trip to Cuba was probably my last.

'Physically, I'm in no fit state.

'And besides, have you ever tried getting travel insurance

'when you're terminally ill?

So, are you asking, if I'm doing to die?

'We would need to know how many months your doctor has given you.'

Yeah. No-one knows how long I've got.

'Right. Unfortunately, without the information,

'we wouldn't be able to proceed on the quotation, I'm afraid.'

'One of the reasons I haven't got a bucket list is because,

'whilst I've always made an effort in life to travel

'and have fun, for the last 15 years, my job was my life.'

Time for the weather now. With the details, here's Rowena Kincaid.

Hello, good morning.

Well, it's going to be a very cloudy Good Friday

and we do have some rain in the forecast, too...

'After 13 years working behind the scenes at BBC Wales,

'I finally got the chance to seize my dream job.

'Cruelly, soon after starting as a weather presenter,

'cancer pulled the rug out from under my feet.'

I've always been that person that believes you can do

anything in your life, if you set your mind to it,

and that was my goal,

and now I'm, kind of, like, "Oh, shit."

I don't have kids and I don't have a boyfriend

and I'm never going to get married,

and I think all those nice, normal, pleasant, reasons-for-living things

are not mine.

I think I've got to the point now

where those things are not meant to be for me now,

because I was too busy doing that.

'So, when an e-mail popped up from a young doctor from Bristol

'saying he was in the same boat as me

'and completely got what I was saying,

'I wanted to meet him straight away.'

So, how long have you been a doctor for?

Only 18 months. I'm enjoying my job. It's good, actually.

-Yeah?

-Yeah.

'Because Mark Sims was told only three weeks ago

'that the skin cancer that nearly killed him as a child was back

'and that, now, aged 27, he was, like me, terminally ill.'

Yeah, you know, my life before

was sat down watching Breaking Bad or something.

-I've been feeling like Breaking Bad, yeah.

-Yeah.

I've wanted to do things.

Maybe we should start cooking crystal meth together...

-OK, then!

-..on the back of this.

This is it, this is the kind of thing that,

when I first got diagnosed, like, I wanted to do crazy shit.

I did. I just wanted to get myself arrested.

Where do bucket lists come from? Is it from a film?

I don't know. I saw your video and it, kind of, resonated with me,

the fact that people are almost expected to have a bucket list.

Yeah. Do you feel like there's maybe a little bit of a pressure

to do more or be extravagant, because this is our time now?

This is it. This is, like, you've got to do something before you die.

I do.

I clearly don't have the stereotypical bucket list

of jump out of a plane or do a bungee jump, because...

Well, I've done a bungee jump, anyway.

'It's really interesting talking to Mark.

'It seems that, if you're young and terminally ill,

'there's a definite expectation to behave in a particular way.

'But reality is way more complicated.

'And it's this we're both really valuing sharing.'

It was only until I broke up...

Me and the guy I was seeing,

we broke up on Wednesday,

did I really realise how shit having cancer is,

because I can't have a future with him.

How do you go, "Actually, this can't be a long relationship"?

'Not only the difficulties of dating whilst dying,

'but about the lengths you'd go to for a cure.'

I'd pretty much fuck anything...

SHE LAUGHS

I'd fuck the Pope for a cure.

You've got to live for ever or die trying, in my book, so...

Oh, my God. Yeah.

'And the complicated emotions you feel.'

I'd never really come to terms with being cured from cancer,

let alone having it again.

Yeah, and then, when it came back...

It's always been...

It's always been my worst nightmare and...

..and there it is.

You're living through your worst nightmare.

(Oh, God.)

I've got too many things to do.

I know.

I know, I feel that, as well.

'I know exactly how Mark feels.

'That fear in his gut, I feel it myself every day.'

'Just over a year ago,

'a tumour the size of a baked potato began pushing out of my chest.

'Chemotherapy and radiotherapy shrank it down,

'but its cells had already spread to my chest cavity and nodes.

'Life is now a battle just to stay alive.

'Treatment is gruelling and never ending,

'not only for me, but for my sister Mel,

'who tirelessly brings me each time I need chemo.

'At some point, it will stop working,

'but for now, it keeps my cancer at bay

'and it buys me just a little bit more time.'

I just feel rotten.

Eating is impossible.

So rotten, I can't move.

My head is pounding.

I hate it.

Oh, my God, I just wish it would stop.

But it keeps me going.

'After a session of chemo,

'I'm generally in bed for well over a week.

'It's like the worst hangover you've ever had,

'combined with the worst flu.

'You wouldn't wish it on your worst enemy.

'And so, when I finally re-emerge into the land of the living,

'there's often a bit of cleaning up to do.'

Being on your own,

living on your own, going through chemo is really hard.

When you live on your own

and you're used to doing everything by yourself,

when you're so independent,

It's just really testing to get up for a glass of water

or going to the loo sometimes, even, has been a bit of an effort.

It's ridiculous.

It's so sad.

I've never asked anyone for anything and I think,

if I start asking for help, then that means I'm really ill.

So, I don't ask for it

and I don't like to.

I'm young.

Why should I be asking for help for cooking my dinner?

It's not right, is it? Really?

'I do know that I try to protect people from how I feel at home,

'because it's hard enough to control my own emotions,

'let alone those of my family and friends.

'In truth, I don't see my parents particularly often

'and whilst my brother and sister are my rock,

'I don't want them, or my mates, as shoulders to cry on.

'I need them as a refuge of normality

'and so, I try to keep them at arm's length from my cancer,

'for their sake and mine,

'but I've recently heard from a young woman

'with incurable brain tumours who's not only written a bucket list,

'but has written it with her friend,

'and so, I've come to meet her, to see if she can teach me anything

'about making the most of what time I've got left.'

-Hello!

-Hey, Beth.

How are you?

'Beth's only 23 and had just qualified as a teacher

'when she was diagnosed.

'She's invited me to her parents' house to meet the whole gang

'and help them tick off one of their bucket list ambitions -

'a charity night in for Macmillan.'

So, it's not a bucket list, then?

It's not called a bucket list. A bucket list is morbid,

-so it's a "fuck it" list.

-Fuck it?

-Fuck it! We're doing it.

See, it's really interesting,

because it seems like everyone has to have a bucket list.

The stereotypical social bit was pushed into my mind,

because I thought, "I haven't done this!

"I haven't done it! What am I going to do? I haven't done it!"

And then, "So... I haven't done it anyway!"

So you just chilled out about it?

Yeah! We didn't make the list the week after I was diagnosed.

Ours was to make memories, from my point of view.

If I don't do them, I don't do them.

-And you're not going to sweat about it?

-No.

-It's not going to make a change...

-Definitely not.

'I can't believe how relaxed Beth is.

'Looking at her, laughing with friends

'and making jokes about her tumours,

'I had a bit of an out-of-body experience...'

What is the point in not laughing about it?

-I do that, as well.

-It's not going to solve anything.

-That is superb.

'..because I could, for the first time,

'see what my friends must see when they look at me -

'a fun-loving girl making light of a situation.'

What was it the other day?

I said, "I'll be the one with cancer, dribbling in the corner."

And they went, "You can't say that!" and I went, "Yeah, I can."

'But it must also make it so difficult for them

'to fully grasp the seriousness of my situation.'

Do you think they really understand what's going on?

I don't think they can. I don't think it's possible.

It's hard for anyone to understand,

unless they're in the position, with anything.

They ask the questions, which they want to understand,

which is brilliant, and I'd never say they're not supportive,

because they are.

If I rang them, they'd be there.

It's not about support, it's about understanding.

But I don't think you can understand.

-I didn't understand.

-No.

I didn't understand. Like, I had family relations

that were really terminally ill

and I found myself saying those things -

"You're going to be fine. You're going to make it."

Do you know what? It's really weird, I know I'm in the same situation,

but it's really weird looking at you and chatting to you,

I feel like your friends probably do.

It's just surreal.

'I'm amazed by Beth's calm.

'I want whatever she's on.

'Because as someone who hides behind humour and make-up,

'I know just how exhausting it is to hold it together

'in front of friends and family,

'and just how hard it is to look so happy, healthy and brave

'all of the time.'

I don't pretend it's not happening, but I just like to look well.

I'm really scared that I won't start looking well

and I know my body's going to be a terrible state, at some point,

as it all starts getting really bad and...

Obviously, I won't give a shit about the make-up, by then

but while I can look good, I want to look good.

That's basically it.

Because I don't know how long I'm going to look like this for...

..really, and that does upset me. Sorry.

'The hardest thing about terminal illness

'is the total lack of control,

'but I've realised recently that there is one thing

'I can completely control,

'so I've decided to start planning my own funeral.

'And do you know what?

'I think I'm going to have a party.'

Have you given any thought to burial or cremation?

Oh, it's very difficult, because, with burial,

I don't really like the idea of worms eating me.

And then, there's the cremation...

I don't like the idea of being burnt to death,

-even though I'll be dead anyway.

-Hmm.

But then, it's really hard to imagine yourself dead.

-Oh, gosh. It's quite hard to think about, isn't it?

-It is.

'To try and help me make a decision, John, my funeral director,

'has agreed to talk me through some of the available options.'

I'm not a boring person, I'm not looking for a boring funeral.

I want people to go to my funeral

and go, "That was a good funeral, wow."

I want a funeral like that.

I know exactly what I'm wearing.

Most of the songs I know are all dance tunes

and they're all crazy and they're all like,

# Boop, boop, boop, p-pew! Boop, boop, boop, p-pew! #

Can you imagine a whole load of people singing that?!

'Planning your own funeral is a bit like internet shopping -

'you buy things you wouldn't usually buy.'

Like, embalming and stuff - what's that all about?

'And you tend to get carried away.'

-Flowers or donations?

-Both?

-OK.

'But my philosophy is that, with all of the big purchases in life,

'it's always best to try before you die.'

You always think about hearses stopping fast

and then coffins shooting out the back.

I think that comes from comedy programmes, doesn't it?

Not that it's very comical.

'John doesn't normally include a visit to the warehouse

'as part of the service, but he's kindly doing so for me.

'And whilst I don't know whether to be buried or cremated,

'I do know that I want to be comfortable in my coffin.'

What's that piece of wood there?

-That's a headrest.

-Oh, is it?

I don't know how I feel about that.

So, can you make that more cosy?

-Yes.

-Because that's really not cosy, at all.

In my head, I imagine having a coffin

that's really comfortable and cosy.

'I assume John's customers are usually a little less demanding,

'because this is the first time he's had to fit a coffin

'on someone still living.'

I can't believe I'm doing this! That's ridiculous.

-I'm fitting... Oh, no, I'm too tall.

-A little bit tight.

I'm not comfortable in this one. No, I don't like this one.

I want a bigger one, please.

'But I know exactly what I want to wear,

'and it's very important that everything looks right.'

Ta-da!

So, thanks for letting me do this.

I wouldn't do it for everybody.

But then, not everyone's as crazy as I am.

No, you're absolutely right, Rowena! You're absolutely right!

'Life isn't a dress rehearsal.

'This is it.

'This is happening now.

'And it's funny.

'I used to put things off till tomorrow.

'I always told myself that, in the future,

'my real life, the one I secretly imagined,

'was finally going to start.

'I just always thought I had time,

'but knowing that my time is now limited,

'well, that's the scariest feeling in the world.'

I always think that I'm bigger than my cancer,

but I know it's bigger than me.

It really upsets me...

..because at any time, it can just do what it wants

and I hate it,

because this isn't me.

'I'd recently heard from a man who's lived for over 40 years

'fearing each day could be his last.

'How do you do that? How do you sleep at night?

'I'm hoping Tim Wotton can enlighten me

'because, born with cystic fibrosis,

'he was told he wouldn't even make it past 17.

'Yet, here he is,

'a husband and a father, with a busy City job,

'who lives every day as if it's his last.'

Do you always go for a walk on your lunch break?

And do you always get out and about and do stuff when you can?

Yeah, I try and carpe diem - seize every day.

When I was younger,

when I didn't really expect to get beyond 30,

because so many few people with my illness did,

I had this mantra around weekends, called "window seven".

You had a slot, Friday evening, Saturday morning,

afternoon and evening, and the same on Sunday.

-I had to fill every single window, hence my "window seven".

-OK.

I still feel that way, actually, about life now,

I've had to slow down, but actually, I still like to feel,

-should tomorrow never happen...

-Yeah. You've done something.

I feel delighted that I've seen something memorable,

felt something memorable, and that's important.

Is that a bucket list?

Do you actually have a list of things to do?

-It's never formally been written down.

-Right.

What it is, it's a mantra and a mind-set every day that,

despite the two to three hours of treatment every day

and the constant reminders of my illness,

I will live every single day like it's my last.

So, it's seeing the unseen opportunities to make a difference.

It's going to appreciate a sight, like today, in London.

It's going to see some landscape, it's going to get a sea view.

Even stopping still and being in awe of the world around you,

that people just fly by and miss.

A bird, an animal, I pick a worm up from the path.

Anything that actually feels like you're in touch

with your surroundings.

A lot of people go their whole life and not open their eyes

and see what's around them, and appreciate being in the moment.

-Mm-hm.

-But actually, every day, that is what I live for.

'I wonder how many people see the world like Tim.

'How many people stop and appreciate the beauty of life flying by,

'and all the everyday opportunities to feel alive?

'I know I don't.

'And so, I had decided that, after my next round of chemotherapy,

'to try living by Tim's mantra.

'However, before I had the opportunity,

'I was hit with the devastating news that one of my closest friends -

'a young and perfectly healthy girl -

'had been killed in a freak accident,

'and I'm finding it very hard to take.'

She's gone.

SHE SNIFFS

My friend has died and...

..this is horrific, really.

But it's made me think a lot about everything, really, and...

..I know, like, I'm still lucky...

..because I'm still here...

..and I've decided that I'm going to fight on harder,

because I've got that opportunity,

whereas she didn't.

She didn't have that time.

'In homage to my friend and in the spirit of embracing life,

'I decided to haul myself out of bed to see an event

'I know will never happen again in my lifetime.'

Oh, my God! It's early.

'Now, there hasn't been a solar eclipse since 1999.

'I'm pretty sure I was there,

'but, to be honest, I can't recall anything.

'At the time, I was in my twenties and partying pretty hard.

'If it was as early as this one,

'there's a good chance I was still in bed, hungover.'

I've brought myself a hat. I've got my gloves, my scarf,

I've got a blanket, and I've also got

something quite important in my pocket.

I believe this is welding glass

and with that, I should be able to see what's going on.

I'm going to give it a go now.

I haven't actually looked at the sun yet.

Oh, wow. Oh, my God, you've got to see this! Can we do that?

Can I just put that right to your lens? That's incredible!

Oh, I'm so glad I've done this.

I'm so glad I've done this.

Amazing.

'Now, I don't want to sound like a hippy,

'but as I walked the beach,

'I was overwhelmed by a feeling of awesome happiness.

'And, yes, it had something to do with

'the mind-boggling magnificence of the eclipse,

'but it was mostly a consciousness of the simple things -

'the sun on my face, the sand beneath my feet,

'the salt air in my lungs

'and a day of relative health,

'but, ironically, I'm only enjoying this moment today

'because my chemotherapy was cancelled.

'And it only ever gets cancelled when it starts to fail.'

I had some scan results and it turns out

that I've got a tumour that's growing and the chemo that I'm on

is now not really effective. It's not doing its job well enough,

so now they're going to try a new drug and see if that works instead.

It's oral, so I have to take it as a pill

and I'll be taking it every day, day and night,

and if it works, there's a chance I'll be on this drug permanently,

and I have been told that people can live more, like, years,

rather than living by months.

So, if that's the case,

then I'll do it, obviously,

because sitting on a beach, like today,

to see stuff like what I've seen today,

I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave this planet.

It's too beautiful.

There's too many nice things to do and I'm not done yet.

I refuse to be taken, because I'm a fighter and I keep on going

and I... and I...

and I never give up.

So, there.

'The reality of yet another tumour growing inside me

'is taking time to sink in.

'In eight months, it's my 40th birthday -

'the age I was told I would never reach.

'I've got it into my head as a goal I desperately want to achieve,

'but until I know that this new drug is working,

'it just seems like a terrifyingly long way off.

'The stakes are high -

'if this particular type of chemotherapy works,

'I could live on it for a few more years.

'But every chemo is different.

'You'll never know how you'll react.

'And, worryingly for me, after only a few weeks,

'this one's really messing with my mind.'

I have this overwhelming feeling of dread

that, tonight, if I close my eyes, I wouldn't wake up in the morning.

It was really real.

I could feel my body sinking into the mattress

and I just felt scared that that was going to be the end.

I don't actually think it's that far off,

and that's what scares me a lot.

I am actually petrified of dying.

So I've had a few bad days recently.

I've been having a bit of insomnia.

I'm having a really hard time of it...again.

I've kind of really freaked out.

I'm trying to go to sleep but I can't.

I have this really overwhelming feeling... My tits hurt.

..that I'm going to die soon.

They're great to look at, still.

This whole fear of just not waking up tomorrow morning.

I just wish they'd behave themselves.

The chemo tablets I've been on have made me want to go to sleep.

My cancer is starting to win.

Have I done everything that I need to do?

Should just put me down, like an animal.

I had such an awful nightmare.

Oh, my God.

I just hope that I go in my sleep.

I dreamt that I was in the last stages and I was lying in bed

and I was next to my sister, the phone just kept ringing and ringing.

It's never going to stop.

She was saying, "You can't pick up the phone!

"You're going to die as soon as you answer."

It's never going to stop.

And I was like, "I'm going soon."

And I had to wake up, because I was like, "Oh, my God.

"Oh, my God."

'Chemotherapy is a deal with the Devil.

'You poison your body in the hope of prolonging your life.

'But the collateral damage is immense.

'Because it doesn't just target cancer,

'it poisons every bit of your body.

'I had to stop for a couple of weeks, because I was exhausted,

'but taking a break is itself a risk, because, without chemo,

'my tumours continue to grow.

'I'm starting it again with a clear head

'and I seem to be coping better.

'In fact, on the days I'm feeling up to it,

'I've decided to get out there

'and embrace life with family and friends

'in the hope of rekindling that fire I felt on the beach.'

Yes, I've got the yellow Lamborghini!

'Generally speaking,

'one day out requires three days in bed recovering.

'But when your friends surprise you

'with a snog for the Welsh rugby captain,

'it's a welcome reminder that life is worth fighting for,

'even if all the fit ones are already taken.

'But something else is happening now my cancer's spreading.

'I'm finding myself being incredibly spontaneous

'and embracing the moment.

'I'm not even planning anything,

'I'm just saying yes to every opportunity.

'And so, when my hospital asked

'whether I was interested in meeting my original tumour,

'the one that got me into this blooming mess, I said yes.'

In a weird, strange way,

I've been looking forward to meeting my tumour

and I've got some really big swear words for it,

to be honest, but I'm a lady in front of you, so I won't swear.

Feel free to say whatever you want.

Oh, I've just got lots of words to say to it, I really have.

You fucking bastard.

I wish I could punch it or something, but I can't,

it's your slide here.

'I can see that saying yes to everything might get me

'in a spot of bother,

'but when my friend Sarah said she wanted to take

'some saucy photos of me in fancy dress for a glamour calendar,

'how could I refuse?

'She's actually been asking me for three years,

'and it's only now that I've got the confidence.'

So what is the calendar for?

-A bit of fun...

-OK.

-..because...

-Was it on your bucket list?

No, it wasn't on my bucket list,

but do you remember when you were saying, "I'd love to shoot you"?

Yeah, I've wanted to for ages. Years, three years ago!

Three years ago, yeah,

and I was like, "No, no, no, you can't take a photograph of me,"

because I would never get undressed or do anything like that.

So why have you got the courage?

I've only just discovered that I wanted to do stuff.

People are offering me things to do and I would never necessarily

take them up on their offers, but now I'm like, "Why not?"

'It's funny - you spend so much of your life saying no

'and living in fear, but precisely when I should be most afraid,

'I've found myself saying, "Yeah, all right." '

I look like something out of Amsterdam!

'Perhaps life's this process in which we slowly relax

'and accept living in the moment?

'In truth, I fear something else is happening.

'I think this is frantic rush is my subconscious speaking,

'terrified time's running out.

'So I've decided to visit Dr Linda Blair,

'a clinical psychologist who I hope might help.'

I feel like my life is in fast-forward,

so now it's like, "Get on with it."

It's like some people do, when they want children and get married,

it's like, "Right, got to that age, I've got to buy a house,

"have kids and get married," but it's different.

Well, it's the same, actually, only I have a death and it's looming.

Will I actually die going,

"Oh, I should have gone to the Taj Mahal"?

-Nobody is ever going to do everything, are they?

-No, you can't.

And so, if it's all these things that you haven't done,

think how sad you'd feel.

We've grown up in a society now,

we're driven really by commercialism

more than anything, we are so goal orientated.

We have to have something or do something. What about being?

I mean, you're a miracle as it is.

You're an inspiration as it is. That's already enough.

Does it not energise you?

It energises those around you.

I've been to plenty of funerals and I've sat at some and gone,

"Wow, this person has had such a fruitful life

"in such a short space of time,"

but if they were to write about me, there'd be nothing to say.

If you talk to people on their deathbeds,

it isn't what they haven't done they regret,

it's the people they haven't spent time with.

When humans really talk about what counts,

it's about feelings and relationships.

-It stems really from the fear of missing out...

-It does.

..which is rife at this moment in time,

with the technology we've got.

People aren't really looking around themselves enjoying their day,

they're too busy looking at what they're missing out on

on Twitter and on Facebook and whatever else.

Meanwhile, they're missing out on life.

Meanwhile, they're walking past the man of their dreams,

because their head's down in their phone.

-See, you've got it!

-I'm getting it.

'Maybe that's what happened that day on the beach.

'Maybe I wasn't trying too hard. Maybe I was just being?

'But living with terminal cancer, it's hard to just be.

'You're always looking over your shoulder,

'because treating it is like a real-life game of whack-a-mole -

'a tumour pops up, you whack it with chemo

'and wait until it inevitably pops up elsewhere.'

I had some results after a scan.

It was quite a mixed result.

Basically, it's controlling the tumours that are in my chest cavity,

in my breasts, in the skin,

and also, the tumour that had grown under my armpit had actually shrunk,

however, the really bad news is that it's in both of my lungs.

'Cancer in the vital organs.

'It's not really what you want to hear, is it?'

I'm just really scared my quality of life

is going to go down the shitter.

I'm really dreading that day, and I know it's coming.

I don't want any more treatment.

I don't.

I'm fed up with it.

I've been on it almost a year...

..non stop.

Non stop.

But I can't stop...

..because it is keeping me here,

and that's when you know that you've got something good...

..is when it all goes wrong.

Fuck you, cancer!

Right now, I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to make my birthday.

I'm not a pessimist at all, I'm very much a realist,

and although I can see me being alive for my 40th,

I don't think I will.

That's the honest truth, I don't think I will.

'It's now September.

'And I've been doing some thinking.

'I've realised up until this point,

'I didn't really believe I was dying.

'For some reason, I always thought there'd be a miracle cure.

'The question of what I do with the rest of my life is now irrelevant.

'What I want to do, and what I need to do, is to survive.

'My birthday is still three months away.

'I'm going to have to begin weekly intravenous chemotherapy.

'But first, I need to make some preparations

'that I've been avoiding for a very long time.'

I've got a Blue Badge! I AM ill!

SHE LAUGHS

"This badge should be displayed at the front of the vehicle.

"It needs to be clearly visible so it can be checked."

The Blue Badge is not a licence to park anywhere.

I can park here now,

because this is all double-yellow lines, isn't it?

'They say there are five stages you go through

'when diagnosed with terminal illness -

'denial, anger, bargaining, depression and, finally,

'accepting that parking right in front of the supermarket

'is actually quite helpful.'

It feels really weird, just parked in disabled.

I'm worried people will just think I'm a fraud or something,

and I'm not.

'But whilst I can reluctantly accept that getting a Blue Badge

'is helpful, losing my hair is unquestionably traumatic.

'I guess I've been lucky that, for the last year,

'my chemotherapies haven't made my hair fall out.'

Right, what can we do for you today?

Well, basically, I'm having chemo

and my hair is likely to fall out.

It'll go thin or it could all fall out.

-It depends on how it goes.

-So something similar?

Something similar would be nice.

-Yeah.

-I think we can sort you out.

Bear with me a sec while I grab some.

I need to put this on you - it's hygiene as well as comedy.

Ooh! I look like an elf!

'I actually lost my hair when first battling cancer six years ago.

'However, then my future was brighter -

'my cancer was primary and beatable

'and I knew my hair would eventually grow back.

'Now I'm in the market for a wig

'that I'll likely wear until the end.'

I think I need help with this one! I look like Cousin Itt!

'And whilst I'm curious about what I'd look like

'with a maverick new barnet, it's probably not the best time

'to stray too far off piste.'

But it's constant up-keep. I couldn't do that.

And that's the wig I got! She looks better than me, though.

I don't think so!

She looks prettier than me. She's got more make-up on.

'Whilst I've got my 40th birthday as a goal I am determined to make,

'I need to be realistic and make some preparations in case I don't.

'Writing letters to family and friends...'

Nothing to make them too sad or upset,

but it would be really nice to have a little note to them

to say goodbye and how much I loved them.

'..clearing my flat out of junk...'

I decided that today was going to be the day

that I was going to sort out all the bank statements,

all the utility bills,

that my family can just close down accounts.

So hopefully I can leave that in the house and they'll find it.

'..and trying to pick what music I want played at my funeral.'

God Is A DJ by Faithless.

TRACK PLAYS

I like that one

but it seems quite...

MUSIC: Happy by Leona Lewis

See, this makes me cry,

cos it's like, if you win or lose,

and you can't have it all, can you?

Now, all my mates, and you'll get this,

all my mates would just laugh their tits off.

They'd just laugh...

MUSIC: Out Of Space by The Prodigy

..because I used to love the Prodigy and I still do.

Well, I'll be having a party, you see, I'll be up there.

Big box, little box.

'Planning my death isn't so much difficult as surreal,

'because, whilst I know that everyone eventually dies,

'it's just so hard to imagine the party continuing without me.

'My final preparation is one I've been struggling with for months.

'Cremation or burial?

'Do I become an urn on someone's windowsill

'or get myself boxed up and buried for the worms?

'I'm out today for a behind-the-scenes tour

'of the crematorium where my body would be processed,

'to see if that helps me make a decision.'

I've got to get my head around how it feels for other people,

for them to say goodbye.

That's the part I think of more than anyone else.

How do your family feel about you pre-planning like this?

They don't say anything.

They don't really say anything. They just say, "Oh, OK, then."

I think they're coming to terms with the fact that it's not good

and they worry a lot, and I try and not take on their emotions

any more, because it's too hard, because I have to cope with my own.

Let's have a look, then.

This is a bit weird, isn't it?

Oh, it's a door, it's a door! I imagined something else.

I don't know.

Oh, goodness. Is that a person? That's a proper person in there.

Um...I've forgotten what I was going to say now,

-seeing that person in the coffin.

-You weren't expecting it.

No. It's fine. I'm quite hardened, but...

So this is where... Wow. This is where it all goes on, then.

-Is that a fridge in there?

-That's a refrigerator, yeah.

You know what? It's very weird being in here,

because now it's become very clinical and very matter of fact.

I was expecting fire and everything,

but there's nothing going on here, it's like a lab.

-Oh, I can see a bone.

-Yeah.

It's not that bad, you know?

It's more fascinating than anything else.

-So are these dusty bits dead people?

-They are dusty bits.

Are they dead people? What's all that?

-That's somebody's hip!

-That's hip joints, yeah?

Would you allow my cat in my coffin to be burnt and cremated with me?

Officially no, we cremate human beings.

-Oh. Don't want to mix up the humans with the cats?

-No.

Genetically, we're not the same.

Ultimately, though, I feel kind of like, I am just flesh and bone.

-Hmm.

-It actually homes in that I am just something

that can be burnt and just put into a box.

Even though it's a bit hard,

it's not bad. It's like, you've got to put your body somewhere.

It's really depressing.

I don't like being in a graveyard.

It's horrible.

It's nice, it's peaceful but all these people?

It's the people that are left behind, innit?

It's all right for me, I can bugger off and die,

but then you've got all the people afterwards.

There's so much love in this place.

'I do think I'm now in a position to say, yes, I want to be cremated

'and, yes, I'm ready to write my last will and testament

'and, yes, I now desperately want chemotherapy,

'because, since the last one failed,

'I can feel that my tumours have grown.

'And with three long months to go before my birthday,

'I need to get something toxic into my body soon

'if I have any chance of making it.

'Today, as usual, my sister Mel is with me

'for what is to be my 16th course of intravenous chemo,

'including tablets, that's my 200th chemotherapy treatment.

'Before we can start, they've got to make sure I can tolerate it.

'If I can't, I may have run out of options.'

Have you got any allergies?

Penicillin. What else am I allergic to, Mel?

I'm allergic to the dishes.

-Just general dusting and cleanliness, I think, yeah.

-Shut up!

I clean! You try doing bloody housework when you're bloody ill,

-I tell you, it's not funny.

-Like I don't offer!

You say, "No, no, no, I like to save it for when I'm feeling better!

"It gives me something to do!"

I love bringing my sister to my chemo sessions.

-Oh, my God, she does my head in!

-You do my head in.

-I'm going home.

-Shut up.

-You're going to have to walk back.

You cow bag.

Oh, shit.

Sorry, I don't know why I'm crying.

Do you want a tissue?

No, I'm fine.

Sorry...

-I didn't know I was going to cry.

-It's OK.

I feel silly now.

Right, even strong people have to cry, right?

I'm going to kick its fucking ass again.

Ooh!

'Intravenous chemotherapy is like psychological torture.

'Four tedious hours of toxic dripping into your arm.

'And you can't leave, you can't fight.

'You've just got lie back and take it and hope,

'but one thing I've learnt is that these wards are not to be feared.

'No matter how brutal the treatment, life doesn't end here.

'These corridors are trenches of unimaginable kindness...'

-Look after yourself. You as well.

-I'm going to be fine.

-Take care, darling.

-Ta-ra.

'..of unflinching bravery...'

Oh, love her.

'..and of unconditional love.'

'Good news and bad news.

'My body seems to be tolerating the new chemotherapy.

'I've got the usual hangover-like symptoms, but I'm not being sick.

'I am, however, moulting like a dog.'

It's going really bald already today.

I don't think it's going to last another couple of days.

I'm just touching it and that's how much hair just comes out.

'I've asked my friend Natalie to cut my hair

'and see if we can salvage something

'because I'm not quite ready to shave it all off.'

This is it now. Now I'm, like, on my way to being bald

and obviously a cancer patient,

which is what I've tired not to look like for two years.

I don't know if it's myself I'm trying to convince

or everyone else around me, that I'm fine, but obviously I'm not.

It's really highlighting the fact I'm not well.

I fucking hate it.

Ohh!

Always.

Thank you.

'Predictably, over the last few days,

'my hair continued to fall out.'

I look like something out of a horror movie.

'So I've called Natalie back and roped in my friend Benny

'for moral support, and told them bring the wretched clippers.'

-I think my hair was actually upset it was falling out.

-I'd be fuming.

Yeah, it's really not happy.

-I've just had my colour done.

-Did you just have your colour done?

Yeah, 80 quid. I'm going to go for a fake tan this afternoon.

-Are you?

-Going to spray my bald head. It's got to match, innit?

Imagine that, a brown face and a white head.

You're making this very pain free.

I can guarantee my friend would make me laugh

in such a horrible situation.

Thing is, if you did speak to me five days ago,

I was really upset, I was crying every five minutes.

I think you just need time to re-adjust and know what's going on.

-Were you on your own, though?

-Yeah.

I think being on your own is not good.

You need to be with people.

You need to be with company, even if you go on Skype or something.

I don't want to upset people.

"Hi, I'm crying today, can you come and give me a cuddle?"

This is a disease that will wipe you out in a week if it chooses to.

-Of course.

-You're going, "I'll just deal with these days on my own.

"When I feel a bit better, I'll see people."

But you need to see people on the days you don't feel so good.

It's a personal identity thing, I was having an identity crisis.

My blueprint of myself had gone.

-Do you want a mirror?

-Yeah, let's have a look at this face, then.

Oh, it's horrible, isn't it? It's horrible.

Don't you think it looks better than this morning?

Yeah, it's miles better, but it's still horrible to see.

You look better in yourself today than you did on Friday.

I'm happier, because now I know where I am.

It's done now and I've just got to move on and just get on with it.

I got most of my strength from having my hair,

because I didn't look ill.

This is the worst thing that can happen.

-There's nothing worse than this now.

-Apart from dying.

SHE LAUGHS

'You've got to have a sense of humour

'when you've got terminal cancer.

'There's no other way of dealing with its relentless cruelty.

'For the foreseeable future, I'm confined to weekly chemo.

'If I'm not lying on a bed in hospital,

'I'm lying in a bed at my flat,

'frustrated, knowing that life in all its glory

'continues to unfold outside these four walls...without me.'

It's mental torture and I'm just in this permanent state of exhaustion.

And I hate the way I look now, there's nothing I can do about it.

I don't particular feel very attractive any more.

'For the last two years, I've been saving money for two things -

'my funeral and my 40th birthday.

'On the days I'm feeling up to it, 'I'm planning the latter with Greig,

'a new friend who got in touch after watching my video.

'Greig is a cancer survivor himself

'and knows just what I'm going through.'

I have felt at times that I just want to stop.

I know it's crap.

As long as I've got something positive at the end of it,

it's worth it.

Most of the time I'm at home by myself,

like, recovering from chemo at the moment,

but I'm a party girl and I love going out partying.

I think it's really important,

when you're in this situation, to have things to plan for.

You want to be there, so you kind of mentally think,

"I have to be there," so it keeps you going.

-Yeah.

-Does that make sense?

-No, it does, definitely.

'This could be my last birthday, I don't know.

'So I am making the most of it and I am making it big and out there.'

Why not? There's no rules!

'I've decided to empty the bank account and book Cardiff Castle

'for a fancy-dress, medieval-themed extravaganza.

'You know, I love the Tudors and I love castles.'

I just think it will be an awesome venue to have a party,

instead of a nightclub, and going out just drinking in pubs.

And why fancy dress?

Everything has to be fancy dress.

-Every party?

-Every party.

If I could be in fancy dress every day, I would.

If I could go to the supermarket in fancy dress, I probably would.

Obviously, this is way for me to have my friends around

and celebrate with them.

I never get to go out and party very much any more.

In fact, I don't think I can remember the last time I went out

and partied, so it's about time I had a party.

I deserve it.

I've been on chemo for a whole year, I'm knackered but I'm ready

and I want to have fun so, you know,

while I still have breath in my lungs and I'm still standing,

I'm going to enjoy myself,

even if it's just for that one night, you know?

'I've been thinking a lot about what Dr Blair said,

'that people on their deathbeds don't regret what they didn't do,

'they regret the people they didn't spend time with.

'I think my biggest regret is never allowing myself to fall in love,

'because relationships and love and the warmth of human touch,

'that's what it's all about.

'With my birthday still a few weeks away,

'I want to catch up with Mark, the young doctor I'd met with melanoma.

'Cancer has now spread to his liver, spleen and brain,

'but is currently being kept stable

'by a remarkable drug called Debrafanib.'

My bucket list was simple, so simple I've completed it,

the last item being the best man for my twin brother Dave,

all thanks to Debrafenib.

I was reminded recently that a day can change everything.

I was asked to talk at my medical school.

In the bar, a lovely young lady came up to me,

she told me how much she liked the talk.

We've been dating for seven months and she's the love of my life.

It's a mixture of building ourselves up to fail,

but then there's a desperate desire

to have what other young couples have,

and that's each other, for eternity.

HE GASPS SOFTLY

I'm going a bit off script here,

because I found out today that Debrafenib has stopped working,

so the next line doesn't fit, which is a horrible thing to think.

You can't work as a doctor with unstable brain cancer,

-so I might be forced to give up.

-Oh.

-So...

I like my job, but it's not where I get my happiness from,

I get my happiness from spending time with my family

and my girlfriend,

and loads of people in life

throw themselves too far into their jobs

and people need a reality check and think,

"Actually, there's only really one thing you need in life

"and that's good health." I'm sure it's the same for you.

Yeah, yeah. I've been a little bit down,

because, obviously, it was in my lungs

and I wasn't able to breathe properly.

I had a few breakdowns, as well.

I lost all my hair and I always promised myself

that I would never die one of those

bald, ill-looking, chemo-ridden patients,

but take away all of this and I'm one of those.

But on a day like today, where I'm able to come and meet you

and do stuff, it kind of reminds me that it's necessary,

-because, if I stop my chemo, I'm gone.

-Yeah.

So I know I have to keep going, because I enjoy days like this.

I've met other cancer patients and there's this idea

that a lot of people are dying with cancer.

-Me and you, we're...

-Living.

-..living with cancer.

Both of us have got too much to live for.

'December 3rd, 2015.

'It's grey, overcast and the weather forecast is awful.

'But Cardiff this morning looks beautiful to me.

'I'm now grateful for every single day I get on this planet.

'But this one is special.

'This is one I thought I'd never see.'

So today is my birthday

and I've made it to 40,

which is brilliant.

I didn't sleep all last night,

because I've just been too excited.

I just can't wait to go and get drunk, really.

Get me a rum and lemonade as soon as possible, to celebrate.

'I'm going to be up against it today

'getting everything set up for the party.

'I've asked Greig to give me a hand,

'but let's get our priorities straight.

'The postman's been with some presents!'

Let's see what this is, from hospital, first.

There's always something from the hospital every day,

even on my birthday.

Right, what's this?

Anyway, next card.

-Oh... Look!

-40 and fabulous, baby.

Aw... Do you know what? I like that. Always looking for a mirror

to make sure my eyelashes haven't fallen off and my wig hasn't moved.

'I'm really pleased about being 40.

'Most people are really miserable when they hit 40.

'They're like, "Oh, my God, I'm over the hill," or whatever.

'It hasn't been without hard work and determination

'and mental strength, but I'm still here.

'It is a massive milestone for anyone,

'but it is an incredible milestone for me.'

I do love this outfit, though. Do you know what?

I feel like I should just go down Tesco's like this.

So I've got wallet, keys, money, lipstick.

Do I need anything else?

Oh, yeah, eyeliner glue.

I bet they never had this trouble back in bloody medieval times.

COUGHING

You all right, Greig? Don't die on me now.

I think I'm allergic to this outfit.

Oh, no! Don't say that.

You'll say anything to get out of that outfit!

'Sorry, Greig, but considering what I've been through to get here,

'nothing except for actual death is going to stop me making this party.

'Not allergies...' What a nightmare!

'..not exhaustion...'

I've worn myself out so much and I'm just knackered now.

I can't hear you!

'..not even foul weather...'

It's rubbish. See, the rain is ruining my plans!

'..because tonight I don't just want a night to remember.

'I want to remember how it feels to be me again.'

I never did think I was ever going to make it to 40,

and here I am, in my outfit.

Yeah.

I am excited, I'm also a little bit nervous, actually,

because, you know, it is a big deal

and it is my big party,

but I also feel a little bit shy all of a sudden.

OK. Queen?

I'm going to pin a bin-liner on my head again. Thanks, Drive!

-Where...

-Oh!

Oh, my God, why am I born in frickin' December?

Ladies and gentlemen,

please be upstanding for our queen of hearts, Miss Rowena Kincaid!

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

SHE LAUGHS

This is amazing!

You all look bloody brilliant!

Wow. Basically wow. Look at you all.

You look absolutely amazing, every single one of you!

Better than me, some of you, so off with your heads!

Thank you for coming and making such an effort,

and what an effort you've made!

-Oh, my God...

-Because we love you.

Oh, my God. This is an extra-special milestone for me,

because, obviously, it's always a milestone when you're 40,

but, to be honest, I didn't even know I was going to make it,

so thank you for sharing your time with me.

I have to say, it has been touch and go,

and my health has been deteriorating.

It has been really hard and I have been on chemo

for a whole year without a break,

so you can thank chemo for me being here.

-Whoo!

-Yay, chemo.

-GUESTS:

-Yay, chemo!

I did have some scary news, actually.

Basically, my baked potato is back, it's growing again,

so I hope I do have another birthday next year,

but if I don't, let's make this one count.

Make it a big one, get absolutely arse-holed

and if you don't mind, I want you all to dance for me.

Long live the queen!

CHEERING AND APPLAUSE

# You don't own me

# Don't try to change me in any way... #

'Over the last 12 months, there have been times

'when I thought I'd never finish this film.

'But making it has been an absolute dream come true.

'It's helped me, it's kept me going,

'and I hope, in some small way, it helps you too.

'Because tonight, surrounded by those I love,

'I've found the answer to my question

'has been within me all along.

'Life - it's fragile and it's precious -

'but it's everywhere and it's now.

'So don't wait till it's too late or leave it all to chance.

'Just grab it by the balls

'and remember, life IS a party, so get out there and dance.'

# ..Whatever I please

# Don't tell me what to do

# Don't tell me what to say

# And please, when I go out with you

# Don't put me on display

# I don't tell you what to say

# I don't tell you what to do

# So just let me be myself

# That's all I ask of you... #