Is it too late to change the music I want played at my funeral? I guess the answer would be a definite yes if I were lying in a coffin being taken on a very slow journey in a hearse to a spot where someone has dug a hole. But how about now? I have incurable bowel cancer and, according to statistics, there’s only an 11% chance I’ll live longer than five years after the date I was diagnosed.

My diagnosis was in June 2023, meaning I’m likely to die in June 2028, so just under two-and-a-half years away. And I’d like to state that I’ve been thinking a lot at the start of this year, and I no longer want people walking into the place of worship to the sounds of “Who Let the Dogs Out?” by the Baha Men.

Instead, I want a track which I think will be permanently lodged in my brain until the day I die. It’s called Octopus (100,000 Hande) and is by an Austrian band called Mountain Crew.

Somehow, the Instagram algorithm placed it in my life, and every video I’ve seen of it features people dressed in alpine garb having an amazingly good time.

With my inability to speak German (I only got a B at GCSE), to me it’s a song where a usually topless Austrian man is asking the crowd how many hands an octopus has, and they reply that there are 100,000.

To let the facts get in the way of the song, octopuses have tentacles, not hands. But the song isn’t about how much calamari you can get from a massive octopus with 100,000 tentacles.

And to let the facts get even more in the way of the song, I used AI to translate the lyrics and the meaning. 

Supposedly, it’s a don’t-think-just-party song with the 100,000 line being a metaphor for the crowd. If you believe AI then it has been designed so a thousand people can do the actions in a beer tent without hitting each other.

Yes, just like all tracks that wouldn’t be out of place on the Eurovision stage, this song has actions. I doubt the number of people at my funeral will reach double figures, let alone reach a hundred.

But for anyone who does get an invite to Fiskoff, here are some details about the actions. When the singer asks “How many hands?” (it will all be in German), you have to cup your hands around your mouth like a megaphone.

Then, when you shout 100.000 Hände! you have to throw both hands straight up into the air and wiggle your fingers like tentacles.

During the confusing (if you can’t speak German) verses, you keep your hands in the air and sway, so you look like seaweed in the waves.

There’s a bit to remember, and some people hate songs with actions, but it’s a lot better than crying. It’s all part of trying to put the fun into funeral.

After all, if the cancer kills me by spreading from around my bowel, into all my other organs, and up my spine before shutting down my brain, then it’s not going to be a painless death.

It’s going to be a death where friends and family can be relieved that my pain has gone, by waving their arms like the tentacles of an octopus.

June 2028 is far enough away for me to get some things done beforehand – most pressingly, ensuring that the recently announced Personal Cancer Plan does what it promises for cancer patients.

In announcing it as part of the National Cancer Plan for England, Wes Streeting promised he had listened to the Daily Express and our Cancer Care campaign and that he recognised the importance of cancer patients getting mental health support both during and after treatment.

When the personal plans are launched, hopefully later this year, cancer medics need to ensure they are in place for their patients so they get support with the mental and physical impacts of the devastating disease.