I have incurable bowel cancer – this is what I think about in middle of night

Sometimes I wonder whether corpses in a morgue are stored at the same temperature as a tub of coleslaw in a fridge. Sometimes I wonder whether death will be painful like it is in the Final Destination films or whether someone will trot out the "he died peacefully in his sleep" line. Sometimes I wonder why you rarely see Golden Wonder crisps these days. These thoughts come to me when I'm shrouded in darkness, struggling to sleep, wondering what my future life, and death, will be.

And, as I approach the second year anniversary of being diagnosed with incurable bowel cancer, thoughts like this come to me increasingly often. Statistics suggest that I have an 11% chance of lasting longer than five years. This means that if I'm one of the 89% of people with my disease who dies within a half-decade then I've got a maximum of three years left.

With time ticking away I shouldn't spend so much time worrying about the future. I should just be enjoying every second that I can. But this is easier said than done when cancer has become such a big part of my life.

I used to lie awake at night a few days before having an appointment with my GP, working out what I wanted to say and what issues needed to be discussed.

I find myself lying awake most nights, thinking about what it will be like when I'm close to death. Will I be on my own in a room where I don't know where I am?

Will I be connected up to a lot of tubes and medical devices while people decide when is the right time to turn my life support machine off?

Will I be in a lot of pain, with tumours having spread into my blood and bones? Will I still be trying to put the fun into cancer, using whatever voice I have left to tell jokes to anyone who will listen?

Will I look even worse than I do at the moment, with my big pink face replaced by an ashen one drained of its life force?

Will my brain and fingers still work enough that I can write some approaching death diary pieces for you to enjoy on a Saturday morning?

I'm guessing that the Golden Wonder manufacturers just decided that the competition from Walkers and other crisp makers was too much, so they decided to scale back production.

All of my other questions as I grapple with my thoughts about death would be best tackled with the help of a mental health professional.

This is why I'm leading the Daily Express’s Cancer Care campaign. We are calling for the NHS and the Department for Health to ensure all cancer patients get mental health support both during and after treatment.

This support can be in various forms, from referral to a befriending service if someone is feeling lonely as they navigate their cancer journey to intensive counselling as they grapple with questions about their death.

It should be available to all cancer patients across the UK, and you can help us make it a reality by signing the petition on the Parliament website.