Ah, Monday morning. You already know the drill: the unmistakable scent of food wafting through the air, and, like a rat up a drainpipe, Matthew was on the scene faster than you could say “crispy bits.” (Settle down, you lot. We’re talking bacon. Minds out of the gutter, please.) Honestly, the way that man can sniff out grub, you’d think he has a sixth sense for a fry-up.

But you should have seen his face when he rocked up, fork in hand, ready to pounce on Super Star Emma’s legendary fry-up, AND to be presented with… a No Cheese Cheesecake as well. I know, I know, you are now asking: What on earth is a no-cheese cheesecake? I said it too! Everyone said it too! And before anyone asks, it is a no-cheese cheesecake made with condensed milk and double cream because Super Star Emma has an allergy to cheese. I don’t care if it had cheese in it or not; it was bloody gorgeous, and it slapped a big no-cheesy grin on his face anyway. (For the hard of hearing at the back: yes, a no-cheese cheesecake. Try saying that after a gin or two!). Please tell me we are all clear on the no-cheese cheese cake now?

Just as Matthew was about to get stuck into his sausage, who should appear but Matron Walker, fresh off sausage duty and after a week of looking at cracks (that’s cracks in the public pavements to you and me, health and safety, before your minds wander!). She was in no mood to mess around, let me tell you. The air was tense, but she let Matthew pass this time without costing him his sausage. Small mercies, eh?

On the upside of things, Nana Bambi is back at work after a two-week break, poor love. She’s had the same issue as me with migraines, so queue new character, drum roll please… I will call Nana Bambi’s migraine Malcolm, because he’s a bigger pain in the arse and causes far more problems than Mary. Alright, Mary is an arsehole, but Malcolm is an even bigger one and takes over Nana Bambi completely. So fingers, eyes, toes, and legs crossed we are both on the road to recovery with Mary and Malcolm migraine locked in their cages for a long, long time, because we both really need to feel human again.

Matthew has his second dose of chemo on Thursday, so we’ll see how that goes. Right now, the liquid mighty morphine power stranger is helping him so much. He’s even spending time in his man den doing a bit of modelling (the aircraft sort, not the catwalk type for Vogue), and manages at least half the day upright before heading to bed for a well-earned rest. Onwards and upwards, Yayy!!!

..And finally, drumroll, please, I actually managed to send off our intro letter and a copy of our first issue to the NHS distribution office yesterday! Miracles do happen. I could look at my laptop long enough to bash out the letter, stuff everything in an envelope (after triple-checking it, because, well, brain fog pain with Mary in the background), and post it. So, this is the bit where I ask you all to pray like mad that we get accepted! Please, may someone with a sense of humour pick up that envelope and let our humble comic blog in physical book form loose in the cancer wards across Yorkshire.

Pleeaaaseeee! Because bloody hell, we all need a bit of laughter right now, especially on chemo wards.

I will keep you posted!

Have a lovely week,

Kate x

Silly Disclaimer: No sausages, no cheese cheesecakes (please don’t make me explain it again!), or public pavements were harmed in the making of this blog. All characters may or may not be entirely fictional, apart from the ones who aren’t. Side effects may include spontaneous laughter, eye-rolling, and an uncontrollable urge for bacon. Read responsibly! If you can’t, not my problem.