Nineteen
For four decades I never weighed myself. If I had to be weighed by a medical professional, I always asked them not to tell me my weight. I didn't want to know. We have some bathroom scales but I had never stood upon them until eight days ago. I had been contacted by The National Health Service in relation to a lung screening programme. Like all others in my age group who were agreeable, I was to be asked a series of questions over the telephone to determine whether or not I should move forward to the next stage - a full-blown MRI scan. However, in order to proceed with the questions there were apparently two vital pieces of information they needed - my height and weight. I was trapped. Just before the scheduled call I ascended our stairs and stood on the scales. Six feet below I could see the number "19". Nineteen stones. Far more of me than there used to be. There and then I decided to shed some weight and have already started what I call "The Yorkshire Pu...