‘I'm heartbroken for Strictly's Amy Dowden – I want to tell her life will be good again’

In her no-holds-barred column, Irish singer, actress and TV star Linda Nolan speaks candidly about living with cancer, a disease that has also struck sisters Anne and Coleen and took the life of their sister Bernie. This week, Linda has poignant advice for Amy, who's had to leave Strictly due to a broken bone in her foot

Sometimes, only a good cry will do.

I know I tend to have a laugh and rely on that good old Nolan dark humour to get through. I also truly believe in deciding each morning to make the best of every day, and be grateful for it. I say that a lot and mean it.

But just sometimes, there’s no way around it: life sucks. Cancer sucks.

I say this because of how heartbreaking it was to see the Strictly dancer Amy Dowden stand in tears among the cheering and clapping on Claudia’s balcony during Saturday night’s show.

She had been forced to step down after falling ill the weekend before, and had just watched her celebrity partner JB Gill, and Lauren Oakley, the professional dancer standing in for her, get mega scores for a dance she helped choreograph.

I watched her eyes dissolve despite all her best efforts to keep in place that fixed, showbiz smile I know only too well, and felt her disappointment and frustration. I’ve felt the same so many times. Behind the smile you’re thinking: It’s not fair.

Now she’s announced she’ll be missing forthcoming weeks, too, after breaking a bone in her foot - for the second time. Her cancer diagnosis stole Strictly from her last year, and now it’s been stolen again.

Cancer and chemo do this to your body. It weakens bones - and the rest. Just when you think you’re finding yourself again, and feeling free of the burden of waking up each day with only cancer on your mind - something Amy's described beautifully - you’re reminded recovery is long.

You want to be back to the old you again, but physically, and more lastingly, emotionally, you’re never going to be that ‘you’ again. Life can be good again, but it’s never going to be the same.

But, and I have to force myself to remember this, too, some things change for the better. The empathy you learn, and the ability to appreciate the smallest joys - that’s new, and I wouldn’t be without it.

My week’s been pretty difficult, recovering from my black eye, getting used to my bald head, going into hospital for more bloods and scans - oh, and I lost one of my new teeth.

But within it I found laughter – on Halloween, of all nights.

I know it doesn’t sound much like a morale boost, but some of the tiny kids who came round trick or treating laughed at me! They thought all this was a costume! It was hilarious. Denise and I were in fits.

Amy, just be patient with yourself for a little while longer. And take joy in small moments. (And small people - the cheek of them!)