The public revelation by Sir Chris Hoy that he has an untreatable form of cancer, which started in his prostate, was a selfless act by a remarkable and inspirational man.

Offering his own tragic example as a warning to others in what precious time he has left and, in doing so, sacrificing his own privacy and that of his family, speaks volumes about his values and humanity.

Like millions of middle-aged men, his experience struck a personal chord with me. If prostate cancer can claim one of Britain’s most successful Olympians - a near-perfect specimen of fitness and health - then none of us is safe from its reach.

As a wake-up call, it couldn’t have been clearer and, judging by the thunderous global reaction generated by his story, it was heard far and wide.

Again, like many men of my age, the only way in which I would willingly enter a health facility of any kind would be in the back of an ambulance. But, after reading Sir Chris’s story, I finally agreed to heed what my children have been urging me to do for years and have myself screened. Then something strange happened.

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After visiting my local GP surgery, the practice nurse told me that, since the story broke, they had been inundated with men asking to be tested for prostate cancer, but that the only way I would qualify is if I was suffering from abnormal symptoms.

In other words, no-one can only be checked until they are in the same position as Sir Chris was when he was given his terminal diagnosis. In his case, he had a pain in his shoulder, which was a direct result of the cancer in his prostate having metastasised.

The morning after his revelation, Labour Health Minister Stephen Kinnock did the rounds of broadcasters, in........

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