Gloomy, depressing, morbid. A place where people go to die. That's the commonly held misconception of hospices. But Morag McAvoy is having none of it.

"This isn't a place where you come to die, it's a place full of life," says the bubbly 36-year-old. And the mum-of five from Baillieston should know more than most. As a cancer patient Morag is a frequent visitor to the Marie Curie hospice at Hunters Hill.

"It's even a fabulous place for kids," adds Morag. "My kids can come and visit me here and play the PlayStations and use the colouring-in books. It's not a scary place for kids, the staff really look after them."

The Marie Curie hospice is, argues Morag, a "wonderful" place, "full of angels."

"And see if you're not cheerful," she smiles, "the staff will give you a kick up the butt."

Like everyone who has had any contact with the Marie Curie hospice, Morag is supporting the Big Build, the Evening Times-backed appeal to build a brand new, state-of-the-art Marie Curie hospice at nearby Stobhill Hospital.

The current hospice, which is over 30 years old, is showing signs of ageing and desperately needs to be replaced. A shiny new hospice, however, does not come cheap. The new hospice will cost £16million, £8m of which has already been secured. The Big Build aims to raise the remaining £8m to turn the dream of a new hospice into a reality for the hundreds of terminally ill patients it cares for every year.

It will be for people like Morag who, despite being forced back to the hospice for a short stay for palliative care, is eager to chat about her positive experience of the place. And despite undergoing a blood transfusion as we chat, is desperate to let people know about the fabulous work that goes on there.

The Marie Curie hospice may be a fading building on the outskirts of Springburn, but to Morag, it's a tower of strength.

"If it wasn't for Marie Curie... I don't know what would have happened to me," smiles Morag. "I just don't know.

"In here, they take great care over you. They'd do anything, any tiny little thing for you. Even the food, if you can't eat, they'll find you something to eat. They will do everything they can possibly do for you.

"The staff are fantastic staff, 20 times better than anywhere else I've experienced. They are very special people, especially to me and my family. They don't just look after the patient, they look after the whole family. They're there 24-hours-a-day if you want to speak to them. There's always someone at the end of a phone. They're there for my kids; they're there for my mum and dad. They're brilliant, I can't praise them highly enough."

It was around six years ago that Morag was hit with the devastating news that, like almost 4000 women each year in Scotland, she had breast cancer.

At the time she worked as an admin assistant, helping out at her dad's railway contracting firm.

"It came as a wee bit of a shock, yes," Morag smiles. "Just a tad.

"Most people think you'd react very badly to news like that but I was like, OK, let's get on with this and fight it'."

Which is exactly what the feisty mum did.

"I said to myself, I'll have this thing gone within a couple of years, which I did," says the proud mum of Lee, 20, Don ,18, Amy, 13, Ben, 7, and six-year- old Abbie.

Unfortunately, as is so often the case with cancer, it reared its ugly head again three years after Morag had won her initial battle.

This time, things were far more serious - the cancer had not only returned, it had spread to her hip as bone cancer.

"They sent me to the Royal Infirmary before one of the nurses there, who was a true angel, found me a place here at the hospice."

Morag then spent 14 weeks at the Marie Curie hospice before being allowed to return home.

Now, as Morag chats amiably at the hospice, the cancer has spread again, this time to her liver.

"It came back," she says with a resigned smile. "Which is why I spend a lot of time here."

But Morag is clearly a fighter. And when the cancer initially returned, she wasn't prepared to lie down to it.

"Let's fight it," she says, "that's been my attitude the whole time. There was nothing else for it. You just have to get on with things.

"I've got John, my lovely husband, I didn't want to let him down so had to get on with it."

Although Morag and John have been sweethearts for many years, it took until last April before Morag finally got him down the aisle. Morag jokes: "The wedding had been on the cards for a wee while but we were making sure my dad had him well-trained."

In reality, Morag's state-of-health forced their hand into bringing the wedding forward. And almost three months ago, they tied the knot at the Winter Gardens at the People's Palace.

Morag beams when she recalls the special day.

"We had a lovely time and I was absolutely fine on the day. My walking was a bit off - nobody else noticed, but I did.

"I managed to last until nearly midnight," she smiles. "I did well. I even managed the first dance which was my big dance. We danced to Westlife - You and I Against the World."

Like all wedding days, Morag's was special, but perhaps in her case, even more so, as her kids saw their mum happy and smiling, enjoying the happiest day of her life.

"My kids don't see their mum as ill. I don't think they've seen me when I'm ill. Obviously they've seen me ill, but I don't think it's in their mind's eye that I'm ill, that's just the way mummy is. Mummy's always been like that."

Like most people in her position, Morag faces an uncertain future. What she does have in spadefuls, however, is hope and an indominatble fighting spirit.

"At the moment nobody knows what the future holds," says Morag, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm just taking things as they come."

It's perhaps testament to the work of the Marie Curie hospice and it's staff that that's the case. Morag's dad, Harry, certainly thinks so. "The best facility here is the staff," he says. "They're remarkable. It's important we have someone to talk to about Morag. The staff make the place, not the building."

"I don't know how the staff do it," adds Morag. "It can't be easy because there are times when it's not all happy and cheerful. But they're always there for you, they'll always give you a cuddle or a boot up the backside, whichever you need."