When I now think of how the uncertainty about my own future, and the proximity of death, threw me into torment, careering wildly between hope and despair, I look back in wonder at how little I thought about the effect I had on my own patients after I had spoken to them. I did worry that if my tone of voice was too pessimistic the poor patient might spend what little time they had left feeling deeply depressed, simply waiting to die. So I tried to find a balance between telling them the truth and not depriving them of hope. After a patient died, I only occasionally heard back from the family, so I had little way of knowing whether the way I had spoken to them was appropriate or not.

My mind is changing about being a mum. I got a dog and the way I feel about it is a lot, and I realise maybe I would want to be a mum.

I used to think that technology could help education. I've probably spearheaded giving away more computer equipment to schools than anybody else on the planet. But I've had to come to the inevitable conclusion that the problem is not one that technology can hope to solve. What's wrong with education cannot be fixed with technology. No amount of technology will make a dent. It's a political problem.

The US election showed me that I had trapped myself in wishful thinking.

I didn’t enjoy a bar job and glass collecting – people could be really rude.

Without naming names, some people I’ve put a lot of faith and trust and love into.

As someone who tried, who had dignity, and stuck to what she believed in despite the storms.

To be led by love and not judgment.

The really terrible things that are happening in the Middle East made me cry for two days after 7 October. All those poor children on both sides.

Safety, and being able to be completely yourself.