Before I start this I have to make it clear that this is not me asking for money in any way, shape or form.  I am lucky enough to have a supportive family and a nephew who would sell his left kidney for me ;o)  What this is, is a new understanding of how the world works.  I have heard it said that we are only one or two pay cheques away from homelessness but until this month I have never really understood that.  Your leukemia is back they said, move to Glasgow they said, you can’t go home they said (there is a fear of sepsis) but what they did not say is that nobody will rent a flat to an unemployed cancer patient and there is not a hope in hell of getting a 2 bedroom flat (thankyou very much bedroom tax) even though you know that at some point you will need someone to look after you.  I have no idea what scares people the most – the fact I am unemployed (even though I have family who will act as guarantors) or the fact that I might end up being found dead in my bed and thus not able to pay rent (I could come back as a ghost and help them to make money ;o)  It is totally mad that people would rather have an empty flat than someone like me living in it.  Thankfully I may now have found a letting agent willing to take a gamble on me.  There is a tiny bedsit in an ‘interesting’ part of the city that has just become available and thanks to the MacMillan team here (they are fantastic) I may have a chance at getting it.   It has got to the point that I have said yes and I don’t even know how much the rent will be because real homelessness is not something I ever want to face (I am not that brave).  How have we become this kind of country?  The kind where the size of your bank account is all that matters.  Where someone in need is someone to be ignored?   Going to see these flats (and you have to) takes up so much energy and even though I have to admit I am not looking my best I am far from looking my worst (bald and bright yellow which is probably still to come) and yet they still say no.  There have been moments recently when I have to admit I was ready to quit and go home because everything seemed so hopeless.   It would appear that there are actually worse things than being told you have cancer, other things that keep you awake at night – but somewhere out there in Glasgow is one MacMillan worker and an estate agent that I may actually owe my life to.  Sometimes you really are rescued by the Good Samaritan.  But the sad thing is I  know I am the lucky one for there are plenty more people out there just looking for a hand to pull them up.  So how do we do that?   We have to learn not to close our eyes, turns our head away or just pass by on the other side, because while we may think we are safe from the harsh realities of life it really does not take much for the ground to be swept away from under our feet.