My friend Tracey Emin is an inspiration – she has the strength we all need at the moment

It is easy to feel overwhelmed by the pandemic and its effects but attempting to stay positive really helps, writes Janet Street-Porter

Tracey Emin at an exhibition of her work in London last year (Kirsty O’Connor/PA)

The C word has dominated my life for months. Covid-19, Cancer, and now Christmas.

My friend Tracey Emin discovered she could die from an aggressive form of cancer before the end of the year. My ex-husband, and close friend, Tony, died having faced up to the disease for a long time. I was diagnosed with skin cancer and had to wait months through lockdown for surgery. And now we're told that 50,000 cancer cases remain undiagnosed because the pandemic continues to disrupt NHS treatment and support.

As Covid-19 infections continue to rise and local lockdowns increase, the government dithers about whether to impose a national circuit breaker in England and follow the more stringent measures already imposed in the rest of the UK. France and Germany have taken this route. With a debate raging about the impact this would have on the economy and our mental health, another C word becomes important. Should we have the right to decide whether to accept CONTROL by the state or the right to CHOOSE what risks to take in our daily lives, if we accept the rules of mask wearing and social distancing?

This Christmas, according to the environment secretary George Eustice, is not going to be "normal" and we had better start preparing to rethink our plans. The mysterious number six (a random figure dreamt up by scientists with few friends or family members in my opinion) remains the cut off point for guests allowed to enjoy your turkey or vegan alternative.

Not surprisingly, this has spawned a huge backlash. Dame Joan Bakewell is furious, and says older people want to make their own choices. Victoria Derbyshire outlined her sanction-busting plans for reuniting seven of her close family members at Christmas – and then backtracked and apologised.

On social media, the majority of the public are scathing about any interference with their normal Christmas agenda. The police have already said they don’t plan to invade our living rooms. Whatever Eustice, Matt Hancock or Boris Johnson say, the festive season will be celebrated with families coming together – even if it means breaking the law. No government (whether composed of Old Etonians or friends of Danny Dyer) would be able to hold back the rising tide of public discontent.

In these circumstances it is not surprising that one in five adults say they are depressed. We’re suffocating under a cloud of gloomy messages pouring from scientists, politicians and medics. People are turning away from news bulletins, preferring the escapism of books and dramas on Netflix. Hugh Grant on Sky Atlantic or Patrick Vallance on the Six O’Clock News – I know what I’m choosing. The latest report from the Office for National Statistics (ONS) reveals the lowest levels in "life satisfaction" since records began.

And yet, in the midst of this crisis, there are some reasons to be cheerful (another C word which is not getting much airtime at the moment).

Tracey Emin is going to have a fantastic exhibition at the Royal Academy next month and remains an inspirational person. After spending a couple of hours with her recently, I came away humbled by her resilience. It’s so easy to complain about the small inconveniences of life, but when you are told you’ll need radical surgery or face death within months – according to Tracey half her body was "chopped out" during the subsequent six and a half hour operation – everything else pales into insignificance. Now, her recovery is allied to creativity, art is central to her existence. In isolation, she’s slowly finding the strength to make new work.

If Tracey’s story offers one of the few positive messages about cancer, so does the news that the link between HRT and breast cancer is lower than previously thought. For older women, this is welcome, because there has been so much confusion and disagreement about whether it is safe to continue taking HRT during and after the menopause.

Many NHS GPs refuse to prescribe HRT to older women (I had to pay for mammograms and a smear test privately as well as proving my blood pressure was normal to placate my GP) claiming it is a unnecessary health risk. A huge study, involving the data from more than half a million women, found that only 26 in 10,000 are likely to develop breast cancer. Another study last year had claimed that taking HRT increased the risk by a third. Now, the authors of the latest research say that the benefits from HRT outweigh the risks. Another piece of good news is that a blood test used to predict ovarian cancer (CA125) is more accurate than previously thought and also picks up other forms of cancers. Of course, the current situation regarding undiagnosed cancers and halted treatments is appalling, but there are small bits of hope.

When it comes to the other C word in our lives, coronavirus, the lesson to take from Tracey Emin’s story is that every day is precious. She says "making it to next year would be good" – and the death of my ex-husband really brought that home to me too. He was exactly my age and we shared so many enthusiasms, both workaholic baby boomers.

Pre-Covid-19, I used to read the obituaries of talented people of my generation. I still watch the news, but I don’t read death notices any more. Instead, I am thinking about living. Pre-coronavirus, I’ll admit that my natural demeanour was tended to the negative, cynical and slightly sneery. Now, the new skill I’m learning is how to be cheerful. It really does take work, but there are small things which make a difference.

Walking quietly every day, even if it’s only for half an hour. Looking at living things like trees and plants. Speaking to strangers. Doing something silly. For example, this week I appeared on daytime television interviewing Pamela Anderson wearing a red swimsuit as a homage to Baywatch. She was a bit confused, but – what the hell – I felt absolutely wonderful (and happy).