y night shift had been a busy one. As a trainee cardiologist at Harefield Hospital, I’d treated a steady stream of patients – among them, a man who was suffering from advanced heart disease and required emergency surgery.
As I toured the wards early the next morning to check on him, the breakfast trolley was doing the rounds. What was on the menu? Sugary cereals, white toast, jam and marmalade galore.
As I began my speech on the benefits of a healthy diet, my patient looked at me steadily before saying: ‘How do you expect me to change my ways when the place I’ve come to for healing is serving the same c**p that got me here in the first place?’