Told that he had 12 months to live, John Brandrick threw caution
to the winds.

He gave up his job as a council worker, stopped paying his
mortgage, helped out his family financially and used his life savings to enjoy
his last few weeks with his partner.

Most days the 62-year-old father of two ate out but, with the
shadow of pancreatic cancer over him, he ensured he was never far from The Royal
Cornwall Hospital, Treliske.

"I was too worried about my health to go abroad," he said. "We
loved restaurants in Padstow, Mevagissey, Fowey, Falmouth and Newquay."

As his time ran out Mr Brandrick gave away his clothes and
planned his funeral.

"I was living on death row 24/7 so we lived life in full. I just
kept a suit, shirt and tie to be buried in."

But 12 months after the fatal diagnosis, Mr Brandrick had
another shock. With his symptoms starting to fade, doctors said he had non-fatal
pancreatitis and not pancreatic cancer.

For Mr Brandrick, from Newquay, the news was welcome but
shattering. Penniless and forced to sell his house, he is seeking compensation
from the hospital, which denies giving him a definite diagnosis.

His verdict on the past 12 months? Get a second opinion.

HAHAHAHAHAH oh dear......

Look on the bright side - he had a blast while he thought he was dying, then didn't die. In movies this would be the part where he learns an important lesson about valuing his life and the people he cares about and etc, not the part where he turns around and sues the hospital..

Too bad life does not imitate art! 

Thank goodness for that! I can't stand soppy endings!

Leave the lessons in Aesop's tales I say

I dun think he's going to be seeing the bright side of it all unfortunately. Seeing that he wasn't too smart about the whole thing.

If he enjoyed his job then it wouldn't be so bad - he could still party and have an income to supplement it. 

He can still salvage the situation I reckon - just sign on to a reality show. 

This is in point of fact a very commmon problem among people diagnosed with HIV in the early nineties who are still alive: they variously canned their careers, spent their pension fund, partied hard, dropped out of university, travelled the world, etc, all on the then reasonable expectation that they would be dead by the time they were thirty.  Now they're 45, still very much alive and well, can't get a job, can't get medical insurance and are economically and otherwise feeling marginalised.

On a separate note I have a friend who was diagnosed with Hep A at a Melbourne hospital, only to find out a year later that it was a mistake - all this while he was starting a new life and relationship. 

Oh bugger..... that's crap

wow...it's great that he's living and all, but it is quite the sticky situation to have quit at life and then found out you were going to live.

And so begins a long period of readjustment...

Well, with a story like that- he could write (and sell) a book worth reading.  

Learning that I'm supposed to die somewhat soon has been one of the most liberating, amazing, and (I must admit) depressing experiences I imagine one can encounter.  I'm happier now that my life's rearranged, but sad I won't be around to experience it as long as I'd like to.

I say, the man should write a book . . OR . . if he's bitter about it . . become a paid lobyist who fights for hospital reforms.  Either way, he should just be happy he's alive.

I just hope they don't do THIS to me when I am dead.  I'll haunt.  I swear.

hahahah it's not all bad..... looks pretty similar to the photo

If someone did a tat like that of me . . I'd die . . . ?  LOL

I'll take the bad news first.

hahahaha

Bad news - he lives

I think it's a good resemblace - except for the teeth. Arrgghh.