Let me just set the scene: it’s a Wednesday morning, I’m on my first bucket of tea (yes, a bucket), Mary Migraine is lurking somewhere in the shadows like a nosy neighbour, and grandchild number four has kindly shared their latest superbug with me. I have a cough and a sore throat. “Have grandkids,” they said. “It’ll be great,” they said…

But let’s get to the meat of today’s episode. Yesterday, during our meeting, I had the pleasure of chatting with the legendary MR I.T. Geek. Now, this isn’t just any I.T. dude; he’s the kind of guy who can spot a dodgy WiFi connection from a mile away and, more importantly, who cuts through the crap and tells it like it is. And yesterday, he hit the nail on the head.

Mr IT Geek said: “Nobody actually talks about the struggle. The emotional, financial strain and the impact that ‘Rodger’ has upon the wider spectrum.”

And you know what? He’s right. Rodger (yes, that’s the name we’ve given this awful disease) doesn’t just invade the patient’s body; it invades their life, their spouse’s life, their family’s life, and even the wider community around them. It’s like an unwelcome houseguest who eats all your biscuits, blocks up your loo with an enormous terd, and then invites all his mates over for a week-long rave. Nobody talks about that part. Certainly not with a sense of humour. But that’s what we do here. If I didn’t have this blog and my writer’s outlet, I’d have cracked up a long time ago. Knowing I can be honest, make people laugh, and maybe help someone else through their darkest hour keeps me going.

And speaking of good news, I got a reply from the NHS yesterday! They’re putting feelers out to all the wards in the area to see who’d be interested in housing our very first issue. One step closer, folks! Fant-bloody-tastic!

In other news, I’ve got a doctor’s appointment on Thursday to deal with Mary Migraine. She needs to pack her bags and fuck off already. Her chin hairs are prickling my forehead like she’s got a right lady beard for a head cloud. Between that, work, grandkids, and caring for Matthew, I’m also somehow going to design more merch (you’re welcome) and add more random crap to the shop. Buy it. Feel good. Know it’s for a worthy cause. Find it in your junk drawer in 3 years’ time and reminisce about why you bought it in the first place, then stick it back in the junk drawer for another 4 years.

So, for now, this morning, I’m sipping my tea, bracing myself for the next round of germs, and trying not to let Rodger, Mary Migraine, or the IT gremlins win.

Stay tuned, keep laughing, and remember: if you can’t laugh at it, you’ll cry. And that’s just not as much fun. Especially when your cry face is as ugly as mine.

Here’s to an awesome start to your morning, wherever the fuck you are.

Kate x

Silly Disclaimer:

If swear words offend you, not my fucking problem. This blog contains rants, sarcasm, bodily function jokes, emotional overshares, and a colourful cast of characters like Rodger (the disease), Mary Migraine, Matthew, grandkids, IT gremlins, and the newly introduced Mr I.T. Geek. If you’re shocked by honest talk about family, illness, NHS waits, or dodgy WiFi, you’re in the wrong place. Best enjoyed with a thick skin, a decent sense of humour, and maybe another bucket of tea. Remember: all stories are true, except the ones that aren’t, and any resemblance to actual people is entirely intentional. All characters accept and love that I write about them, so find something else to complain about.