‘Tis the season to be jolly (falalalala, lalalala) even when you’re throwing up on Christmas morning, because having a shower was too much fun for one day (falalalala, lalalala.) ‘Tis not the season to pass on Christmas pudding, so I’ve put my rule book to one side and enjoyed a heady mix of mince pies, morphine and mulled wine (falalalala, lalalalaaaaaaaaaaggghhh!)

And now I’m back in bed, my chest throbbing in distain for the frivolity, I’m wondering if it was all worth it? Of COURSE it was, every last crumb and dance with my niece, every last dunk in brandy butter and roar of laughter. Every crisp, every game, every sip, every hour, every single moment was worth it. Which leads me to ponder (with my head at a jaunty angle and my index finger to my lip), has it all been worth it? Have the last five months offered me anything more than a restored love of almond milk?

Now, I would never wish for Lupus (like I wish for Isabel Marant boots), that would be silly and a little sadistic, but I am incredibly grateful for the refreshed view on life that Lupus has bought me. Lupus is partly responsible for placing my life in a golden frame and saying to me, ‘look at this life you’ve got, you massive lush! Look closer! I know it may be a bit wonky, it may not have turned out exactly as your 15 year old self thought it would, but it’s f-ing bloody brilliant and you are SO lucky.’

Over the last five months, I’ve received enough flowers to host the Chelsea Flower Show and Get Well Cards to fill a forest (if we could magically reverse the paper-making process… sorry trees.) My friends and family have a canny knack of appearing just as I’m close to feeling sorry for myself, with grapes and cakes and the wisest of words; with eye cream and candles, foot rubs and head strokes; with DVDs and magazines and bouquets of fruit (no shit, click on this link, they’re amazing!) They’ve come with herbal teas, juice recipes and an abundance of PMA. They’ve emptied the dishwasher, they’ve made me soup and they’ve made me laugh and laugh (until I’ve had to tell them to stop being so goddamn funny because it hurts.) Blimey, I am SO lucky.

I’ve been reunited with old school friends and boyfriends who have appeared from nowhere to wish me well. Although no longer in uniform or in the band, and despite the years that have passed and the nonsense life has also thrown at them, they’ve hardly changed at all. What an influence on my life our past together has been, and what inspirations they live to be now. I am SO lucky to have experienced them and to be able to rediscover them now.

I’ve had endless support from my bosses and colleagues at Coffee & TV. Working with such a passionate, talented and hilarious crew is the very best tonic (and if it could be bottled we’d all be millionaires! So I’m working on it…) I’m SO lucky to be able to spend my days with such an awesome and energizing bunch.

If ever you need your significant other to prove his / her love for you, remind him every day how much you’re hurting and cannot possibly hoover. Tell him that you can’t go out despite the fact it’s his friend’s engagement party / birthday party / Halloween party / new-born’s christening. Ask for your hot-water bottle to be refilled, despite the fact he fell asleep half an hour ago. Tell him you want the moon and ask him to throw a lasso around it and pull it down. All hurdles are equally demanding and worthy of proving his love. Thankfully, my boy has successfully completed his endurance test; indeed he’s endured an awful lot, and I am SO lucky.

And although it’s surprising to find yourself being tucked into bed by your mum / dad / sister / brother, at the age of 34, (and certainly not what my 15 year old self had foreseen) I am SO grateful. What a privilege it’s been to spend this uninterrupted time with my family – to be cocooned in their unconditional love, with tea and toast on tap. Gosh, aren’t I lucky.

Oooopsies, I appear to have written my Lupus Awards acceptance speech. I’ll stop here (else I’ll have nothing to say in my actual Lupus Awards acceptance speech, a glamorous red-carpet affair that I’m certain my Super Doc is planning). There’s an awful lot more I have to be thankful for, but I’m precariously standing on the edge of the smug zone. I appreciate that not everyone is lucky enough to be surrounded by such incredible people, but I do hope that the frame around your world highlights all that’s good, funny, surprising and wonderful… I promise it’s all there, if you look hard enough.

Numerous people have asked me lately how I remain so chipper; I hope this post shows that it would be very hard not to be! THANK YOU to everyone who has made it so. Despite the hospital visits, the tests, the tears, the aches, the pain and puke, I’m really rather lucky. Perhaps it’s the morphine talking? Or perhaps I just feel really rather jolly – ‘tis the season after all (falalalala, lalalala.) SO, bring it on 2016, I’m ready for you and I’ve got my army with me.

London Bridge Hospital, feeling festive