Tonight’s meal will be steak with all the trimmings and I can’t wait. Nothing – bar a heard of wildebeest running through the dining room – will stop me from finishing it. For I know it will be delicious and that the meat was expensive. My mother has taught me well: ‘waste not, want not.’
Many of us believe it is important to eat everything on our plate. I have yet to find anyone who wasn’t told by their parents at some point to “Clear your plate – and think of all the starving children in ______” It’s the kind of parenting instruction that seems common-sense but it not taught everywhere; in several East Asian cultures, for example, it is far more courteous to leave some leftovers at the end of a meal. Our peculiar attitudes to plate-clearing are almost certainly a throwback to wartime health campaigns. In years of hardship through both World Wars, government posters would read “Leave a clean dinner plate: thousands are starving in Europe”. Oh, how times change: In 2015, one in four adults in the UK are obese (in the USA, it is one in three). Frighteningly, childhood obesity is also on the rise and today a third of all UK 10-11 year olds are overweight or obese.
It must be Murphy’s Law. You soldier through the cold, dark months of winter, working your fingers into stumps trying to get everything finished before the holidays and then… the day after you down tools, you’re struck down with a cold. Of all the luck – another Christmas Day wrapped up in bed with a thermometer in your mouth!
Without doubt, Geoffrey Raisman is in line for a Nobel Prize. The little-known British professor has been the brains behind a breakthrough that ‘cured’ a paraplegic man. Bulgarian Darek Fidyka was left paralysed after a knife attack four years ago; images of him now standing upright shot across the globe a few weeks ago. For the first time in history, surgeons had successfully fixed a severed spinal cord. In a bizarre act of surgical jiggery-pokery, surgeons removed nerve cells from Darek’s nose and then transplanted into his damaged spinal cord. Once there, the nose cells stimulated nerves to grow across the 8 mm gap in the spinal cord. And amazingly, this ultimately gave him feeling and movement back in his legs. 
Moustaches are a bit like flares, perms and tie-dye t-shirts – they only come into fashion once a generation. Now I don’t care what the fashionistas tell me, or how many glossy fashion mags feature models sporting ‘hipster moustaches’ – moustaches are anything but hip. Surely the last person who looked cool with a tash was Freddie Mercury. And that was when he was wearing skin-tight white Lycra. 
Imagine a time before the internet. Go further back: think of what the world was like before mobile phones. Now go even further back… back to when computers weren’t around. I know that in today’s touch-screen age, it’s hard to imagine – but not so very long ago all knowledge was passed down through spoken word and books (paper ones). That’s right kids: no Gameboys. For it was a mere fifty years ago that technology was a slide-rule and a wireless – and back then most medicine was more hearsay than science. And the advice doctors gave you in the post-war era probably wasn’t much different to your grandmother’s wisdom.
I’ve only been back in the UK a matter of hours and it’s already started. After a few days abroad, I am taking a stroll through the beauty of Wiltshire’s county town to remind myself how good it is to be back in good ol’ Blighty. And then suddenly – and without warning – my reverie is broken by a vibrating right thigh. It is the tell-tale buzz of my mobile phone, which has now awoken from its vacation slumber. A text message or twitter update perhaps? Neither, as it happens. For when I have prised my phone out from my (now slightly tighter) jeans pocket, I see that the screen is blank. No message, no twitter update and no new email – nichts, nada… nobody loves me today. And yet the sensation was unmistakably real. But, I am not going mad; for this, dear reader, is another case of the ‘phantom phone vibration’. 
A month feels a very long time when you’re trying to give something up. Crikey, if you’re trying to give up cigarettes then even a weekend seems an eternity. And now that October is upon us, scores of smokers are going cold turkey on the fags for a 28 day stint. It’s all part of the NHS’s annual ‘