I suggest that watching in close-up a 21-stone fattie stuffing her face during her regular weekend binges is NOT entertaining, when she's draining the resources of the NHS at a quicker rate than she drains the juice from the cans of peaches that she likes to demolish. At her weigh-in, she was so pleased at losing more than the minimum 5 kilos (over nearly two fucking years in her case!) required to progress towards surgery that she celebrated with a cream cake and sweets.
A few people were genuinely in need of help, applied themselves, got a band or sleeve fitted, and lost weight. The resultant reduction in dependence on the NHS will cover the cost of the operation. However, some applicants were just pissing me off, and while their efforts were shite, my blood pressure was rising.
Then we came to the heaviest patient that they've had so far, a chap called Terry. At 47 stone and 6 pounds, that's actually four chaps. I will not though refer to him as Athos + Porthos + Aramis + D'Artagnan as that would be too complimentary considering this bloke's inactivity.
I do not propose to dwell on talking about what triggers people's over eating, but it is rather weird to think that on the road to being over 47 stone there were not some 'stages' at which something might have been apparent. Leaving things until it's impossible to get into the bathroom is hardly sensible. Anyway, the consultant surgeon had the guy brought into the Weight Loss Ward, in preparation for a balloon to be inserted into his stomach. Before this could happen, it was essential that some weight was lost ahead of the procedure. The hospital was hiring a bed that was super-sized and also capable of withstanding a load this big. The £100 per day was on top of the £150 per day standard cost of someone being there. After 19 days, so almost £5000, this chap's weight had gone up! Despite being on a calorie controlled diet in a hospital, he got heavier. It turns out that it was not just his refusal to do a few exercises that was the issue, but his eating of snacks. It turns out he was cheating (despite initial denials) by buying stuff from the trolley. What the cuntin' fuck is a fucking trolley laden with sweets, snacks and drinks doing in a weight loss ward? The surgeon said on screen that if he had his way, the trolley wouldn't be allowed! Does this prove that the country and the NHS is screwed? YES. How the fuck can all this effort and expense be undermined by some cunt trying to sell Double Deckers to fat people?
When Terry was challenged about his cheating, and reminded of the cost, he was so fucking selfish it was amazing:
"It's not my problem. There's no cost to me, so why bring it up?"
This was hardly likely to gain him any sympathy from viewers, and I look at the obscene amount I pay in National Insurance contributions, let alone tax, and see money wasted on people who don't deserve attention. I fear for the future of the country, as it seems that there are simply hundreds of thousands of people who will eat and eat, get too fat, and expect the solution to be provided by hospitals and society - at no fucking cost to them.
This country is fucking screwed. Supermarkets hide cigarettes now, but cakes, biscuits crisps and processed shit can be swallowed by any twat who wants to consume them, in any quantities. When these people get too big, they get registered as disabled, get benefits, house alterations, mobility scooters, and probably meals on cuntin' wheels!
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