This week I found myself researching a few final details for Megan's story. And off I popped to the city hospital and sat with my skinny latte and notebook, in what could double as a French pavement cafe area (serving any amount of any kind of food available possible) and watched so many people down so much junk! How can that be? Why are they serving any junk food when we're about to suffer an obesity explosion which will cost the health service millions. Do hospital get paid a kind of bums-on-seats (or rather bods in beds) commission, so the surest way to get new patients is to feed them heart trouble in a bun? I'm bewitched, bothered and bewildered.
Obviously, I could have had a muffin, or a brownie, or a packet of biscuits with my latte but didn't. Later, waiting to see someone I had a cup of soup and a pineapple pot. OK so neither is anywhere near as nice as a double choc chip muffin or full butter shortbread and self congratulation doesn't take the edge off plain greed, emotional necessity or habit, but still I managed it. But why tempt people? It's... a.... hospital... Duh!
Bet they don't sell cigarettes in hospitals!
Hmmm.
Maybe I ought to check that one out.
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