One advantage - of sorts - of my insanely long stay in hospital has been the resulting loss of weight. For this I can thank Glasgow Royal Infirmary for providing the most toxic, inedible and thoroughly vile excrement known to mankind, and having the audacity to refer to it as food. True, it was served on plates or in bowls, but there the similarity ends. On many occasions the most appealing 'food' was the toast they served up after visiting time, along with a beverage bearing a vague resemblance to tea or coffee (it was difficult to be sure which).
Anyway, the outcome of this is that I'm now skinnier than I've been at any time since around 1993. For the first time in ages I can look down and see my feet (amongst other things), and I can fit into all the clothes that I grew out of over the years. The Speedos however, are being binned on the grounds of taste and decency.
The Atkins Diet book (unread) is going with them.
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