I charge off behind the lifts on the ground floor, but Emily reminds me that it is actually on the first floor, hidden down a passage. Oncology is not indicated on the board with the other departments It is almost impossible to find on one's first visit. The reason for this reticence, we decide, must be that cancer, and the words associated with it, remind people of death. The word "oncology" is considered almost indecent.In the Oncology waiting-room, an elegant young black receptionist greets us.

I explain that I was here as a patient five years ago and that I would like to see the ward - and the nurses - again. Is Tina still here? The receptionist says certainly she is and, of course, I can go in. As I leave the waiting-room, I glance at an unnaturally thin old lady in a red dressing- gown, escorted by her husband. I feel ashamed of being like a voyeur, of looking at a person who may be dying when I am well.The ward where they administer the chemotherapy, through injections, drips and tablets, has changed since I was here five years ago It's much lighter.

Instead of six grim, grey beds in a row, there are now only two, near the window, and several low-slung hospital armchairs, which look very comfortable Patients can now receive their treatment in these chairs This difference, to me, is subtle but important. If you receive chemotherapy in bed, you feel passive, like an invalid. If you receive it from a chair, you are still part of the outside world, on your way to getting well.There are also two bright paintings on the wall and two poems, by patients. Everything looks far more cheerful and relaxed.In the side-room, where the drugs are prepared are the two nurses who treated me five years ago - Tina and Nurse G Tina, particularly, looks very pleased to see me I hand over the biscuits I've bought for the patients. I had remembered, just in time, how we were always offered biscuits.Tina encourages me to go into the ward. I say how much it's improved, and she explains that they were finally able to get some funding.