I'M NOT easily shocked, but when mum asked if I thought she should get a tattoo, I was mildly surprised and not a little curious. OK, I'll admit it, I was jaw-droppingly, eye-poppingly shocked at the thought of my 50-something mother turning into Lydia the Tattooed Lady.

But hey, I thought, I'm a 21st century kinda gal, and if she wants to revamp her image, get a tattoo, have her nose pierced and swap her comfy M&S sweater for a crop top, I can handle it, it's cool.

That's what I thought - for about a second and half. Then the groovy, fab-tastic side of my personality gave way to the more dominant and distinctly less trendy boring old fart side and I let rip with an eloquent "Yer what?!?" followed by an equally articulate "But... but... you're a grandmother, you're not... you're not flippin' Sporty Spice you know".

All right, so it wasn't exactly Oscar Wilde, but I bet his mum didn't want to have "Wilde at Heart" tattooed up her arm and a dotted line with "cut here" around her neck.

And neither, as it turned out, did mine. After I had climbed down from the dizzyingly high summit of my indignation, mum explained that she wasn't actually considering having "Georgina 4 Ken 4 Ever" inked across her forehead and that the tattoo in question was in fact an optional part of her forthcoming radiotherapy treatment.

"Of course," I said, although I still hadn't the foggiest what she was talking about, "a breast cancer tattoo, I should have known."

At first I assumed mum had been knocking back the painkillers a little too enthusiastically, but it turned out that patients can actually choose to have the radiotherapy guide lines tattooed on to their breast instead of having them drawn on in felt-tip and not washing for the duration of their treatment.

So it really was a question of "to tattoo, or not to tattoo"? In the end, after much discussion (and much tittering from the male members of the household), mum decided against it. And yet...

"I wonder if they would tattoo 'I luv David O'Leary' while they were down there," she said wistfully, drifting off for a moment into one of her many daydreams featuring herself and her beloved Leeds United boss walking hand-in-hand along a moonlit beach discussing ball control and the benefits of the sweeper system. "I can't think of anything nicer than to have him on my chest."

Now some of you may be thinking that all this talk of crop tops, tattoos and balls is not entirely appropriate, and that cancer is not a subject to be discussed flippantly or - heaven forbid - humorously. But I couldn't disagree more. When illness or misfortune strike, there is nothing like a bit of silliness to take your mind off your troubles, if only for a minute or two.

If you don't believe me, ask Radio York presenter Julia "Frasier Crane" Booth, who is a shining example of how a quirky sense of fun can make the tough times a lot easier to take. She had both breasts removed in a pre-emptive strike after genetic testing showed she had a very high chance of being diagnosed with cancer later in life.

Even though she was not and had not been ill, she still found that people would tiptoe around her, not quite knowing what to say or do. Eventually after much humming and hawing they would usually come up with the wildly original "So, how are you?" spoken in the hushed tones that people adopt when they are talking to someone who has been unwell (this is always spoken in italics, as is cancer, tumour and, quite bewilderingly, breast).

Unfortunately, because of the nature of Julia's operation, many people directed their concerned questions at her chest. But was she embarrassed? Was she heck, she would just whip open her jacket with a flasher-style flourish, give them a grin and tell them she was absolutely fine.

While this brash grin and bare 'em approach might not be for everyone, there is no reason why more demure types can't break themselves in gently with the tiniest of titters (sorry Julia!). You never know, you might eventually find yourself indulging in an occasional smirk, then a wry smile every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and before you know it you will be enjoying a cheerful chortle three times a day after meals.