Half Plus Seven Read Online Free

know, just a heck of a lot older than I used to be. ’
    â€˜We’re all getting older, Bill and, as we do, we need to look after our bodies more than perhaps we used to back in our more youthful days. Tell me, what symptoms are causing you to feel this way?’
    â€˜Oh, I don’t know. Palpitations, sweats, dry mouth, headaches, panic attacks, a cough…’
    She tapped this into her computer
    â€˜Does the cough produce a mucus?’
    â€˜Sometimes.’
    â€˜And what colour is this product?’
    â€˜Depends really. Sometimes yellowy-green, sometimes greeny-yellow, sometimes with blood.’
    â€˜Do you smoke, Bill?’
    She needn’t have asked. My fingers were the colour of a Simpson.
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜How many a day?’
    â€˜Ten,’ I lied. ‘But I am trying to quit.’
    â€˜Good. You should. ’ She was sterner now.
    â€˜And how many units of alcohol do you drink a week?’
    Who the fuck kept tabs on how many ‘units’ of alcohol they drank a night, let alone a week?
    â€˜What’s the recommended intake?’ I asked.
    â€˜Around 21 units a week,’ Dr Linda replied.
    I did the old trick of halving it and adding seven. This was the way you worked out the age of the youngest piece of ass you could tap. Twenty-two for me. Imagine what you could do with that. Back to the task in hand, Bill.
    â€˜You know, about seventeen, eighteen,’ I lied again. This whole open and honest thing really wasn’t working out.
    â€˜And how regularly do you exercise?’
    No calling me ‘Bill’ now, definitely sterner. Disapproving, almost. Christ, if she knew the half of it.
    â€˜If I’m being open and honest, a lot less than I used to since I twisted my knee at five-a-side last year. I do try and run twice a week at a lunchtime though.’
    â€˜Okay, thanks, Bill. What I’d like you to do next is to take your shoes off. Just leave them under my desk here, and step onto the weighing scale over by the wall there.’
    Slowly but surely I was losing my clothes. We were getting there.
    I stepped onto the scales and a digital display read 70 kg. I sounded like an import of marching powder.
    She jotted the figures down, this time on a notepad.
    â€˜Okay, if you could step from the scales over to the wall there, we’ll measure you up.’
    She measured me (6 ft – just), again took a note and led me to what seemed like a higher, less comfortable shrink’s couch.
    â€˜If you’d be so kind to lie back on here, Bill, I’ll explain to you how we’re going to use the measurements we’ve just taken. We’re going to work out your body mass index, or BMI, which is a statistical measure of body weight based on the height and weight readings we just took. It’s a widely used diagnostic that you’ve probably heard of and is used to estimate a healthy body weight, something which is essential to the Medi-Health Wellness Check.’
    I nodded, turning the corners of my mouth up in agreement. They didn’t miss a chance for a brand namecheck.
    She tapped some figures into the keyboard again and rapped her black polished fingernails against the rich oak desk while she waited for the machine to whirr into work. As the screen slowly changed, she surveyed the information and swallowed. The rap of the fingernails came to a halt.
    â€˜Okay, Bill, it’s telling me that your BMI is 20.9, which is just about healthy, but not necessarily just about right, for a man of your shape and size. A healthy weight is perceived to be between 70 kg and 82 kg, and as you’ll have gathered, you sail close to the wind at the lower end of the spectrum. From this I can safely ascertain two things: one, you’re not eating enough, and two, when you do eat, you’re not eating the right kind of foods.’ She emphasised the word ‘right’ a little too strongly.
    My head dropped slightly in