Welcome back to losing 10 minutes of your life you will never regain! Today is Sunday, and we’re moving into the final week of chemo. The bags under my eyes look like wrinkly ball sacks, and my nerves are fried after 5 months of this journey. I pray that this is the final stage to freedom and a clean bill of health for Matthew.

Meanwhile, it’s handbags at dawn between Carrie Codeine, mighty morphine power stranger, and the new sheriff in town, Colin Cannabis. The drama in our medicine cabinet has reached Shakespearean levels. Carrie Codeine, the reigning diva, clutches her blister packs and wails every time the pain monitor beeps, demanding the spotlight and a sympathy encore. Mighty Morphine Power Stranger, with all the subtlety of a panto villain, swoops in just as tea is poured, always arriving fashionably late to the agony ball.

But today, the handbags are flying faster than an EastEnders Christmas special. Carrie and Morphine exchange barbed words and passive-aggressive pill counts, both going for prime position in Matthew’s bloodstream. Just when the curtain seems about to fall on this invented pharmacological farce born of Kate’s warped imagination, in comes Colin Cannabis, cool as you like, hemp hat at a jaunty angle, whistling Bob Marley and radiating the sort of Zen you only get from a thousand incense sticks.

At first, the others scoff. Carrie sniffs and Morphine broods, but Colin, with all the patience of a yoga instructor, simply grins and offers everyone a chocolate Hobnob with Earl Grey tea. The tension deflates. The aftereffects of chemo start to kick in: fatigue, aches, that peculiar feeling that your bones have been replaced with blancmange, but Colin’s gentle calm begins to work its magic. Anxiety eases, the household air feels lighter, and even Carrie can’t help but giggle at a well-timed joke about herbal tea.

So, the handbags are packed away, at least for now. Colin wins this round, and the last round, not with bravado, but with a mellow smile and a reminder that sometimes, relaxation is the best medicine. As Matthew faces the final curtain call of this chemo performance, I’m crossing everything (including my patience and my eyebrows) that this is the moment the villain vanishes and the credits roll on a happy ending.

Here’s to the last week, the encore nobody asked for, but the one we’re determined to see through. Pass the eye cream, the kettle, and maybe a tiara for Carrie. If nothing else, this saga has taught us the true meaning of resilience, the value of laughter, and the importance of a well-timed cup of tea.

Until next time, chow for now

Kate x

Disclaimer: No actual handbags, controlled substances, or tea kettles were harmed in the making of this blog. Side effects of reading may include mild snorting, eye-rolling, or a sudden urge to hug your local pharmacist. Please consult your sense of humour before proceeding. If serious symptoms persist, seek laughter immediately, or a slap to fetch you back into the real world.