Since I was diagnosed with osteoporosis last autumn, my life has taken surprising turns. But I didn't expect it to lead to me – and my Mum – meeting the Queen in the Morning Room at Clarence House.
I was invited because of my campaigning in this newspaper to raise awareness of the deadly bone disease, in particular to help people to receive an early diagnosis by making Fracture Liaison Services available throughout the country.
At the reception, I was presented with a certificate of appreciation in the presence of Her Majesty. I felt a surge of pride standing by her and when she expressed 'huge thanks' for the work this paper has done.
'It really has put osteoporosis on the map,' she said. 'Can I just plead with you to keep going… it makes an enormous difference to a lot of people who would otherwise go undiagnosed.' By that point, I was buzzing.
The run-up to the reception was nerve-racking: with impeccable timing, earlier in the week I not only had a stye in my eye but also an emergency dental visit.
Only with industrial quantities of make-up did I avoid resembling a female peasant in a Breughel painting. I was shaking with anticipation when we arrived at the reception, an intimate affair with 20 guests. Mum, however, was instantly at home.
She was not in the least overawed and might have been in her back kitchen. Within moments, she was chatting to actress Susan Hampshire, a celebrity ambassador for the Royal Osteoporosis Society.
It meant a lot that my Mum, Lyn Hunter, who is in her indomitable 80s, was there with me. Not least because I wanted to make up to her. On the weekend I had the fracture leading to my diagnosis a year ago, she had travelled from Teesside to see me in London.
Instead of a lovely mother-daughter dinner, she was stuck for five hours with me in A&E at St Thomas' Hospital in London. As she said, she thought her days of taking her kids to hospital with a broken bone were over years ago.
Sadly, though, osteoporosis is often a mother and daughter affair. Mum has not been diagnosed, but having a parent with the disease is a risk factor.
The Queen, who is president of the Royal Osteoporosis Society, became involved because her mother and grandmother suffered terribly from the condition.
'There is still such a stigma' about osteoporosis, the Queen said in conversation with us.
This is despite it affecting half of all women over 50 and one in five men.
The Queen spoke movingly to us of her mother Rosalind Shand, who died because of osteoporosis aged 72 in 1994.
'All those years ago, nobody talked about it,' said the Queen, adding that back then, signs of the disease, such as a 'dowager's hump' or loss of height, were dismissed as ageing.
'My mother went to the doctor and he told her, 'You're old, of course you are going to have a hump',' said the Queen.
'We all felt so guilty because we thought she was making a lot of fuss. We couldn't believe anyone was in so much pain – we didn't know why she was screaming like this. She lost six to seven inches in height. She couldn't do anything.'
The Queen asked Mum whether she had osteoporosis too. 'No, not that I know of,' Mum replied. 'Have you ever been checked?' 'No…' Mum admitted.
'Well, that's the thing, nobody ever was checked in your generation,' said the Queen. 'Now younger people are being diagnosed. I suspect that would have been the case in your generation but nobody knew because nobody checked.'
'At least,' the Queen added, turning to me, 'you can do something about it,' and asked me whether I was having treatment.
When I said I was on Evenity, a bone-building drug, she replied: 'They [the treatments] are incredible. I have seen so many people completely rejuvenated.' I said I wanted to stay well so I could look after Mum. 'It's the other way round,' Mum demurred.
Her Majesty spoke of the importance of scans, known as DEXAs, which identify osteoporosis.
'It is so important for doctors to realise that when people go to their surgeries with a broken bone, they have to get a DEXA scan because that is the way of detecting it,' she said.
My campaign in The Mail on Sunday has been to achieve exactly that – prompt diagnosis and treatment after the first fracture.
If this happens, there is a good chance patients will not break more bones and can live well.
I want to see an end to a vicious postcode lottery condemning millions to having their lives ruined by preventable fractures.
Fracture Liaison Services (FLS) are the gold standard. They pick up patients who arrive at hospital with a broken bone and offer them a DEXA scan which will find out whether they have osteoporosis.
But FLS is only available in around half of NHS trusts in England. It is offered across Scotland and Northern Ireland and full coverage is promised in Wales.
At Labour's conference, Health Secretary Wes Streeting promised to honour a pledge to roll out the services across England by 2030.
But there are fears the Treasury may backtrack over the £30million cost, though that is a fraction of the burden on the NHS from treating osteoporosis victims.
Craig Jones, chief executive of the Royal Osteoporosis Society, said The Mail on Sunday's campaign had 'shattered stereotypes' and highlighted the fact 'younger people at work, at the height of their career, suffer this condition'.
Dr Nicky Peel, consultant physician at Sheffield University, was presented with The Queen's Award for 30 years of outstanding work on osteoporosis.
As the event closed, I was close to tears but Mum took it in her stride. 'The Queen is lovely... and very nice shortbreads,' she opined.