Here he describes starting a four-month course of chemotherapy.

Four white capsules, each with a smart blue double stripe, have now joined the vitamins and anti-epilepsy drugs on my daily menu.

These powerful chemotherapy drugs are designed to mop up cancerous cells left behind by the radiotherapy.

The drugs are fiendishly expensive and I am lucky to have them

There are also two tiny white pills, one triangular, the other circular, to stop the chemotherapy making me feel sick.

So far there have been no side effects but then I took them only four hours before writing this.

I am still tired as a result of the radiotherapy and I get the odd twinge of a headache, enough to keep me worrying but no more.

The plan is that I take the chemo tablets for five days then rest for 23 days before taking another set. There will be four sets in all.

Nerves jangling

The drugs are fiendishly expensive and I am lucky to have them.

I saw the doctor and he said we will not do another scan to see how the tumour has responded to treatment until next year.

On this last trip away I had a bit too much time to think

I know that the run-up to that scan will be nerve-wracking and I am happy that it will not be for a while.

It felt reassuring to see the doctor and the rest of the staff at the hospital again. Their manner is so infectiously positive.

And, despite the obvious attractions of a Mediterranean break, it felt good to be back home when we arrived on Tuesday.

Hurdles

On this last trip away I had a bit too much time to think, and again ended up in the internal struggle to stay positive.

That really has been the hardest thing, more than anything else so far.

When I try to visualise the long-term future, sometimes it works but sometimes I just end up seeing all the hurdles I will have to clear.

A great remedy for beating encroaching gloom is to focus on someone else's cares and problems. But sometimes it is hard to put this theory into practice and easy to slip into self-absorption.

When that happens, it is very easy to start seeing graphs, curves and depressing images.

I have been very lucky. Other people with brain tumours have to grapple with seizures, which I have so far been spared.

Peripheral vision

Depending on the location of the tumour, various things can stop working.

My tumour is in the area of the brain responsible for vision and I have a real problem seeing anything to the right of what I am looking at.

It is irritating, but no more.

Yet in front of that area lie the areas responsible for motor control and speech. Damage there would leave someone with much more to contend with.

Coming back to read all the e-mails from the last column was a great lift.

Normally I read them during the week but this time I had been starved of internet access for six days and came back to a great wedge of good will.

They and the soothing words of the doctor have left me looking forward to the coming weeks.

In a week's time I hope I will be able to report a trouble-free week spent exercising some new gadgets.

Your e-mails to Ivan

I think of three things I am grateful for having the disease for Helen, UAE

Just one little tip I use every day; before I get up I try to think of at least three things I am grateful for having the disease for. It is very hard at first but when you think of all the ways you have gained insight into your life or been touched by another person's kindness finding three things soon becomes quite easy. I have had the disease for eight years now and have metastatic brain and chest tumours.
Helen, UAE

Reading your column and all the follow up comments is a bit like visiting the Medal Room at the Imperial War Museum. You just pop in for a quick look, but cannot leave until you have read every story of acts of courage and bravery. I have a friend who is facing the same challenge as you right now and have sent the link to your column to him today to help lift his spirits.
Simon, UK

I have just been declared cancer-free six years after my diagnosis. I remember those triangular anti-sickness tablets with huge gratitude. My first chemo month was just awful without them. Not long after my diagnosis I was advised to "get my affairs in order" and of course I was terrified. My solution was to focus entirely on the day I was living through, and resist the temptation to get involved with all the tomorrows beyond my control. I saved myself so much worry. 'A day at a time' is corny because it WORKS!
Brendan Donnison, England

I'm jealous of your chemo drugs K. Likkel, USA

I'm almost jealous of your chemo drugs. Pills? For my breast cancer, I had to go in to the hospital for IV drips that made me ill. None of it is ever easy. Sometimes hours can seem like days, and days feel like they'll never end. Keep moving forward, one step at a time. Every day, every minute is one day closer to your positive outcome. I always look for your column, and I think about you daily. I made it and I'm a big wimp, you can too.
K. Likkel, USA

I'm so glad I have come across your articles. I have a malignant brain tumour and at 23 you can imagine this is a bit of a shock. I'm not going to mope around; like yourself I have taken an active role in my treatment and have been eating a diet high in flavanoids - all the greens and fresh fruit. Flavanoids are also in red wine (two glasses a day!) and in green tea. My oncologist recommended this to me and I am definitely feeling more healthy inside.

I have no doubts in my mind that I will still be here in 10 years and in 10 years time from now the drugs and treatment will have moved on. I'm putting all my faith into my doctors and all my concentration into getting better. Keep the positive attitude going, no doubt you will outlive many of your peers.
Nick, UK

Honesty makes things so much easier to bear Elinore Mackay, UK

I have realised, watching too many friends and family experience cancer, how honesty makes things so much easier to bear. It is refreshing that cancer is generally no longer a whispered secret, but seems to be discussed far more freely. Surely this can only ease the pain and worry of everyone involved.
Elinore Mackay, UK

Some people think we're all here for a purpose. If so, your purpose must be to bring hope and insight to people battling cancer. Good luck Ivan, you are an inspiration.
Ian, New Zealand

Everyone reading this can help cancer research by downloading the United Devices screensaver - check it out at http://members.ud.com/home.htm
Good luck Ivan.
Derek McQuarrie, USA

How expensive is "fiendishly expensive"?
JC Rand, USA

If you do have a seizure, it is really nothing to be scared of Mel, London

I know from personal experience just how much the anti-convulsants alone cost. A month's worth for me (a chronic epileptic) can cost up to �2,000 on a very bad month. Ivan I have written to you to express huge admiration and also to say that if you do have a seizure not to be afraid. It is really nothing to be scared of. It is something I have lived with for over 16 years now and is not a hindrance at all. I do not go long without a fit and despite that I have to confess that my life is fine and not constricted. It is scarier to watch that to have, really! More than anything you will get a really good kip after as you will be exhausted. Take care Ivan, God bless and keep smiling.
Mel, London

I would like to thank the BBC and Ivan for this column. After having been treated for a rare and often fatal form of cancer several years ago, I find your candour and steadfastness to be very inspiring. At the time of my diagnosis, I often became very frightened after reading some of the grim, possible long-term outcomes for my particular type of cancer. However, my doctor always reminded me that every case is unique and that even "poor" odds are just an average that can mask a wide variety of individual circumstances and outcomes.
Bryan, USA

I have emailed your column to a young friend who smokes...
Kester, New Zealand

In early June I came to in a hospital bed to learn that I had just had a malignant tumour removed from my brain. I was lucky in that I was spared the diagnostic and the shock and anguish that you describe vividly in the "room of doom" bit. Some radiotherapy to mop up and in my mind I was where I hope you will be soon, Ivan - getting back in shape to enjoy life from an enriched viewpoint.
Glenn, France

You are right, laughter is the best medicine Anne Mills, UK

My sister is also undergoing treatment for a malignant brain tumour. She had the results of her scan today, and is also starting the chemotherapy tomorrow, along with anti-sickness tablets, as the tumour has not been reduced by the radiotherapy and is now inoperable. But she still stays cheerful and you are right, laughter is the best medicine, and to live life day by day. I shall follow your progress and hope for the best both for you and my sister with all my heart.
Anne Mills, UK

Your courage and motivation you show fighting cancer are a source of inspiration not only for patients but also for healthy people who must to appreciate life and realise how fragile life is. In fact, staying alive is a everyday challenge to death.
Jorge, Canada

As a writer and as a person with a serious illness, I feel so close to you. Your honesty, your quiet courage and your effort to live as normal a life as you can inspires me to do the same. This diary fills me with hope; you are living an exemplary life, just by trying to live an ordinary one.
Cheryl Davis, USA

Ivan,
I just happened to come across your latest article today... and upon finishing it, sat and read through every one of your articles and the many e-mails you've received. Your outlook on what's truly important in life, your optimism and your utter determination are truly awe-inspiring. You keep fighting! My thoughts and best wishes are with you!
K Winkler, Colorado, USA

Go get yourself a puppy Carol, United States

Go get yourself a puppy, pets are a constant distraction, and love you and need you. If you think of yourself too long you get a present on the carpet! Good luck, you are in my prayers.
Carol, United States

I have just read your article. Thank you for sharing your courage with us all. You are in my prayers.
S. Pryce, Canada

I'm touched by your story and impressed with your courage. Any of us could someday be in this situation. I however consider you lucky compared to many with similar problem in less privileged societies. God will see you through.
Kelechi Ukachukwu, Lagos, Nigeria

Last year my uncle was diagnosed with a brain tumour. It was the worst case scenario - inoperable, and not likely to respond to radiotherapy or chemotherapy. His bravery was different to yours, he chose not to fight a losing battle. He lived for only six weeks longer, but his quality of life was not diminished. In many ways you are fortunate - you have so many more options and more chances to beat this. Keep fighting.
Caroline, South Africa

Dear Ivan,
My goodness, here I wake up on a beautiful sunny day in Spain, suffering from a hangover because of too much drinking over the last week because I'm "depressed". I just read all of your columns, and boy, am I ashamed of myself. I wish you the best, and I am going to change my mindset this moment. Thank you for helping me.
Robert Stevens, Spain

I'd just like to register my admiration for Ivan, not simply because of his kick ass specs, but also for his bravery and for offering a thought-provoking insight into the challenges he is facing. I hope that the diaries prove as cathartic to write as they are to read.
Phil Holland, UK

It's a miracle that any of us are healthy Sabile Fityani, Canada

When I'm troubled with something medically, I find it comforting to research the topic from a scientific point of view. That fends off feelings of "Why me?" and self-pity. Considering how complicated our bodies are and all the processes involved, something is bound to go wrong sometime, and it's a miracle that any of us are healthy. I promise to include you in my prayers tonight.
Sabile Fityani, Canada

I am a smoker and have wanted to give up for a while, but couldn't quite find the motivation. Thanks to your wonderful articles, I now know what cancer is, what causes it and exactly how damaging smoking is. I finally have my motivation to stop and am confident that I will succeed. Your strength, determination and positive outlook is like a breath of fresh air and something I aspire to.
Lucy, England

Your column has helped me come to terms with my father's illness. He is at the same stage of treatment as you, though he also has a tumour in his lung for good measure. You column has given us the confidence to finally speak freely about what is happening, and this I believe is as powerful as the drugs at making him better. I wish you all the best. I know there is hope in even the darkest moments.
Matt, UK

I felt I had to be mercilessly upbeat Richard Crabtree, UK

My wife went through chemo and radiotherapy too. It's interesting to hear you say the things you have, as I felt similar, but from the other side of the fence, except of course I felt I had to be mercilessly upbeat. She's doing fine - I hope you do too.
Richard Crabtree, UK

I am a regular reader of your column and I am sure you don't need another "How brave you are" though it is certainly the case. Keep going big man, you sound terrific at he moment and make me feel embarrassed for my petty grumbles. Thanks, I feel worse now! With those positive vibes running through your veins I do not doubt for a second that things will work just fine. Good on ya!!
James, UK

My brother had a brain tumour and died of it. There was practically nothing anyone could do because of the nature of the tumour. Yours can be dealt with and that's what you're doing. Congratulations for the way you're turning this problem into something positive by stimulating debate and informing people.
Xavier Kreiss, Bush House

I decided to do something every day to put a smile on my face Dorothy Cohen, USA

When I was going through chemo and radiation for breast cancer, I decided to do something every day to put a smile on my face, like simply taking a bubble bath while I read a good book. The most pivotal moment during my treatment was when John Kennedy Jr died in the airplane accident. I had my last chemo treatment two days before his accident. Who would have thought that I would live longer than him given my condition? So Ivan my prayers are with you and carpe diem! Oh, and don't forget about Lance Armstrong.
Dorothy Cohen, USA

I don't know if this helps but when I've been up against something really tough I've tried to focus on taking a step back from the daily fluctuation between optimism and pessimism and fight regardless. The trick is to keep fighting as best you can when things look good and keep fighting as best you can when they look bad. Keep sticking with it!
Richard, UK

You are so right in focusing on someone else's needs. I tried it for a while and instantly it made me feel alive and energetic. God bless.
Prakash, UK

My horizon of time gets further every day Matt Lovell, UK

Ivan, it's been five years since my radiotherapy and my horizon of time gets further every day - inspired in the main by my four-year-old daughter. It was hard at the times, every day going to hospital and working. Plenty of rest, lots of travel and building new and ongoing interests have enabled me to plan. I too love life in all its depth, colour, twists and turns. I have learnt some much more from these experiences, meet so many inspiring people that it has been the most important part of my life and for that I do feel very humble. Good luck.
Matt Lovell, UK

I am full of admiration for the guy. Nothing else...
Rigas Caravias, Greece

I was feeling so blue today as I'm still job hunting after almost a year of leaving my last job. Ivan's story has made me realise how lucky I am to have my health and I now feel ashamed of some of the thoughts that have been running through my mind recently.
Rachael, UK

Be sure not to put your life on hold Marcie, UK

Very best of luck to you in fighting the tumour. Just be sure not to put your life on hold waiting to see how it will turn out. Your life is what is happening now.
Marcie, UK

I have been reading your article from the beginning and every week I have wanted to add my comment but have struggled with what to write. So my comment will be just to say your bravery leaves me speechless.
Ian Wilson, England

This is the first of your columns that I have come across, but I just wanted to wish you all the best as you start this phase of your journey. Good luck,
Vicki, Ireland

As a result of your travels, my mother has booked a trip to Africa TK, UK

My mother has throat cancer and over the last few months we have been on a rollercoaster. Your column is so frank and honest, I love reading it as it puts a lot of things into perspective. As a result of reading about your travels, my mother has now booked a trip to Africa in the new year. Thank you so much for your honesty regarding your illness. Keep strong and positive. I often think of you and send my heartfelt wishes to you and your family.
TK, UK

I can imagine staying positive is really hard. I suffer from mild depression and I find that if I'm wallowing too much writing everything down, even those thoughts that you feel you really shouldn't even admit to, really helps. I also find cooking whilst listening to my favourite music or Radio 5 or 4 is great; I don't know why but it's very therapeutic. Good luck, and Delia has a great leek, potato and onion soup that I'd really recommend.
Anne, England

There is life after cancer G Tucker, Canada

There is life after cancer. I was diagnosed with an aggressive, invasive form of breast cancer at the age of 36. The treatment was worth it but not without side affects. My children were small at the time, and for them I compared my chemo to butterflies. Every three weeks butterflies (chemo) would enter my body and get rid of the 'bad' cells. During my last treatment, my two girls came with me and wore butterfly T-shirts and butterfly tattoos, and we then let the butterflies go free. Six and a half years later whenever the girls see a butterfly they think of me. Every spring I now wait for the first butterfly to pass by.
G Tucker, Canada

My family has twice been touched by brain tumours, neither time with a happy ending. Ivan is a clearly a very brave man to stand up and face this head on. It is important that people understand how ordinary people have to deal with their own mortality. We tend to just fly through life thinking "It will never happen to me". This column may be all too realistic for some people, but it is something anyone of us may one day have to deal with. Good luck Ivan.
Simon, UK

Take the mickey as often as possible Neil, UK

I have been following your column avidly from the start and I wanted to say thanks. I'm glad you're taking comfort from the e-mails you're receiving, because your missives are giving a lot of comfort to people like myself who are dealing with cancer in the family. Obviously, I'd imagine every family has their own way of dealing with cancer, but we've found that quite a good approach is to take the mickey out of it as often as possible. They do say laughter is the best medicine. Actually, I think chemotherapy is probably the best medicine, but it's not a good group activity. We tried it, and it cost a fortune in extra pills.
Neil, UK