I could see the fear in the suited and booted man’s eyes as he thought I was going to be sick all over his dapper attire. Thankfully I managed to keep the vomit in my mouth until I erupted at the next tram stop. There I received looks of judgement and shame as I unleashed yellowy green bile on to the platform.

It was a similar situation 20 minutes or so later when I was sick again. But this time I was crouched down by the tram tracks at East Croydon Station while hundreds of people wondered what I had taken so early in the morning to make me so ill. I was feeling too nauseated to explain to all the commuters that for the first time in around 19 months of having treatment for incurable bowel cancer, my body was fed up and had decided to give me a new side effect to cope with.

Usually my foes are diarrhoea, fatigue, and rashes and spots on my face. This time though it had clearly thought it’s time to jazz things up with a lot of vomiting (I was also sick at home when I was alone) and nausea.

I didn’t know what had caused this change in side-effects so followed the instructions I was given when I started my “cancer journey” and phoned my hospital’s treatment hotline.

What I wasn’t prepared for was how little the nurse on the other end of the phone seemed to care about my situation.

I know that the NHS 111 line gets a bad rep because it seems like most of the callers are sent to A&E, but at least when you phone there they are concerned and acknowledge you are worried about something.

The nurse on my hospital’s hotline just told me to take some anti-sickness medication and get on with my day.

And while this is actually good medical advice for the physical symptoms of what I was experiencing, he didn’t appreciate that the “pull yourself together” approach doesn’t work for the anxiety surrounding cancer and side-effects.

It also did nothing to reduce the disappointment I was feeling about having to cancel lunch with friends. While I should have been sitting in a pub garden enjoying a lemonade and some slightly overcooked chips I was lying in bed trying not to be sick again, and holding on for tomorrow.

Cancelling plans due to chemo side-effects never gets easier. For me, it’s the hardest bit of cancer, apart from having to deal with my hospital’s scheduling team, and it always makes me feel bad.

I’m sick and tired of when fun things get postponed due to me being sick and tired. And it’s the kind of thing that I think all cancer patients could be reminded by their medical teams that friends don’t mind if you have to cancel. They want to see you but they understand if illness rears its ugly head.

It’s the kind of conversation about things affecting a patient’s sense of wellbeing that medical teams don’t have with cancer sufferers. But they should do and it’s why we are running the Daily Express Cancer Care campaign.

If you can help by signing the petition and lending your voice to the cause then I promise to try not to be sick in public transport and on pavements outside train stations.