Ed Miliband, caught mid-bite on a bacon sandwich, looked like someone waking up after a long night out. The scene was reminiscent of 2010, as Miliband appeared bewildered and seemed to struggle with his breakfast during a press event. Five years later, it was David Cameron’s turn for a culinary faux pas, although his media team had provided him with better fashion advice—no suit jacket, and his shirt casually unbuttoned. Nonetheless, they likely cringed as he attempted to eat a hotdog with a knife and fork, a moment that left many questioning his choice to lean so far forward.

Known for his flair in front of the cameras, Boris Johnson managed to avoid any mishaps when I interviewed him over a meal of liver and bacon on the campaign trail in Croydon back in 2015. His effortless charisma seemed to work wonders, as the candidate he endorsed successfully retained the seat first won in 2010, securing victory by a mere 165 votes. Although Gavin Barwell later lost the seat significantly two years on, that’s another story altogether.

Food selections play a crucial role in political campaigns, often serving as a subtle indicator of a candidate’s connection with the electorate they aim to represent.

While I have no political aspirations, dealing with incurable bowel cancer has prompted me to reflect deeply on my dietary choices and the perceptions they generate.

This introspection began two years ago when a friend expressed disappointment over my choice to sip a Coke at a pub. While most of my friends were more concerned about my health than my drink choice, that moment lingered with me.

Nowadays, I care less about others’ opinions on my meals. My priority is selecting foods that suit my needs—dishes that aren’t overly spicy to avoid irritating my chemotherapy-affected taste buds and won’t induce nausea, a common side effect of the treatment.

Something that always works for me is Mr Punky. And I’d wager that if I did ever find myself on a campaign trail gunning for political glory I would be photographed with the ice cream dessert.

For those of you not familiar with it, Mr Punky is a plastic penguin with red spiky hair which is filled with vanilla ice cream. It is undoubtedly designed for five-year-olds, but it makes 46-year-olds happy and, with the world like it is, that’s important.

I first sampled the punky goodness three years before Ed Miliband regretted choosing a bacon sandwich and I wager it made me feel a lot happier than he has since then.

And then after fearing I would not be able to eat Indian food again, because of the chemo and my mouth sensitivity, I found myself in a restaurant last year and the old friend was on the dessert menu.

The waiters laughed at my choice but the photo my friend took of me enjoying the sweet treat showed it was worth it. There isn’t much delight in my life, but defying expectations and doing what I want is fabulous.

So I was ready for when it was on the menu again at the restaurant I went to recently for my birthday. I was ready for the laughter from the staff but also to say f*** it. When it comes to food choices, I don’t screw it up like Ed Miliband and David Cameron. Instead, I do a Boris and take it all in my stride.

A little glimmer of fun amid many dark clouds is something to be celebrated and if it comes as a £5.95 dessert called Mr Punky in an Indian restaurant, then surely that should be encouraged.

It isn’t always this easy to be happy, but life is about snatching these little moments. Boris Johnson is considerably richer than me but I’d be happy to buy him a Mr Punky dessert to kind of relive the campaign trail moment of 2015, in an Indian restaurant not too far from the café we stopped in back then.

What would I talk to him about? Obviously, chat would be all about the Daily Express’s Cancer Care campaign. I’m sure he would be shocked to learn that mental health support isn’t considered an essential part of cancer treatment, and it simply doesn’t happen for most people.

It’s crucial that every cancer patient has this support both during and after treatment. They need help smiling as much as possible.