I am 42, happily married with a young son and have a fulfilling career. I really did seem to have it all until two months ago, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Then I found out that the cancer had already spread to my liver and my consultant told me that my condition is incurable. Despite this, I am on a course of chemotherapy, which may be followed by surgery and radiotherapy. Apparently, people in my situation have a 4% chance of surviving for 10 years. I have already been referred for counselling and though the social worker was wonderfully supportive, the discussion centred on how to come to terms with the fact that I'm dying. Naturally, we are devastated. But do we really have to accept that I'm dying? Does anyone have any advice or positive experiences they can share with us? I have so much to live for.

Support from outside
I had the same diagnosis five years ago, and it is tough to accept and live with. Like you, I had a good career and children, and felt I had everything to live for. My mostly positive outlook since then has partly been due to professional support - I strongly recommend contacting Macmillan Nurses (macmillan). Through my nurse, I found out about a day centre at my local hospice and the staff there have been very helpful: I have learned so much about enjoying life to the full - my main aim now is to enjoy the time I have with my family. It is still hard and I have bad days. Everyone has to accept that they will die at some point - this acceptance has to co-exist with living for now, though.
SH, via email

Maternal inspiration
My mother was in a similar situation - she was diagnosed with liver and lung cancer when I was 15, after having had breast cancer. She went though the same treatment after being told she only had six months to live, and was honest with all of us about her prognosis. She was positive for the following three years - she said that what helped her most was watching her children grow up and making the most of everything that was happening. Though her dying was always in the back of our minds, and was devastating when it did eventually happen earlier this year, I remember her amazing outlook. Whenever I have something difficult to accomplish, I am inspired by how strong she was in such a difficult situation. AS, London

Don't believe statistics
You may have a bleak prognosis but the goalposts will inevitably keep shifting - maybe for the better, possibly worse. Statistics cannot predict precisely what will happen: six years ago, at 48, I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and given a 17% chance of living for five years. My cancer has progressed slowly and though I have had two lots of surgery, two courses of chemotherapy and one of radiotherapy, there has been plenty of time to achieve some of my goals I have been able to enjoy this summer despite knowing that my symptoms have returned and that will I need more treatment, which I will now receive over the coming months.

Take control of your treatment and only agree to what helps to achieve the best quality of life for you. Make a list of all the things you want to do and do them when you feel well enough. Spend as much time as you can with the people who really matter. You can still do a great deal to ensure that your husband and son are well-prepared for their future.
VR, Southampton

We're all dying
The sudden death of my first husband in an accident taught me that we are all dying and none of us know when. Fill your life with as much happiness as you can muster and don't worry about the ticking of the clock. If you turn out to be one of the survivors, you will have a wonderful life; if you don't, you will have done more with your time than many people who make it through the full three score years and ten, and you'll have left a set of wonderful memories behind you. JD, via email

Fight on every step
Live every day as if it were your last and never give up hope. Lance Armstrong said: "If children have the ability to ignore all odds and percentages, then maybe we can all learn from them. When you think about it, what other choice is there but to hope? We have two options, medically and emotionally: give up, or fight like hell."

Question everything and get a second opinion. Appoint a "manager" to help you with appointments, treatments and research. Find out if there is a Maggie's Cancer Caring Centre (maggiescentres) near you, where you will find people trained to show you how to deal with every aspect of your condition.
ST, via email

Not alone
In March 2003, I received the same diagnosis at the age of 35 - I had a wonderful husband, beautiful young son and a good job. I won't pretend that your life won't change dramatically - you can't ever really go back to the way you were before and it can be self-destructive to dwell on what might have been. You may have to accept that this illness is incurable, but the continuing advances in medical treatment mean that more of us are living with this disease for longer periods. I have been given time which I have come to realise is very precious.

You must be going through so many emotions at the moment - at such an early stage in your diagnosis, everything seems very overwhelming. I want you to know that you are not alone.
AD, Swindon

breastcancercare.org.uk or helpline 0808 800 6000; breastcancer.org;; bristolcancerhelp.org; bcmets.org; bcsupport.org; yestolife.co.uk

Next week
I've been with my partner for four years and we have lived together for two and a half. I love him very much, but in all that time he has never told me he loves me - in fact, he says he doesn't. He says he likes me a lot and cares about me very much, but that he won't tell me he loves me. I find this very difficult. If we try to discuss it, it always ends in a row. He claims that it doesn't make any difference as we get on well and like being together, but to me it is very important. I don't know what to do - should I stay with him and accept that the relationship will never be exactly what I want, or should I leave and perhaps find someone who does love me? Or just try being on my own?

· Private Lives appears every Thursday. Each week we publish a letter to which readers are invited to respond. Replies should reach us by Tuesday. Readers are also welcome to propose other problems, of around 250 words in length. Write to: Private Lives, The Guardian, 119 Farringdon Road, London EC1R 3ER. Alternatively, fax 020-7713 4366 or email private.lives@theguardian.com (please do not send attachments).