Beam me up, Scotty...

That's it: I've started the course of radiotherapy at Mougins, and I feel strangely relieved.

The first session was friendly, supportive and slick. I was through the changing room, placed under the radiation, got back in my clothes and was out in less than twenty minutes. The only visible sign of my passage through the system was a series of colour splashes with a felt-tip pen, highlighting the tattoos used for aiming the beams of radiation.

The one thing that shocked me, however, was seeing how many people were being lined up for treatment. It puts one's personal predicament into stark perspective.