You’ve secured an audience with your overworked GP. You roll into the surgery clearly suffering from the effects of a gargantuan hangover, reeking of fresh cigarette smoke and chomping on a fistful of cheese sticks. After listening to your laboured heartbeat, ascertaining your blood pressure is off the charts and checking how overweight you are, your doctor doesn’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce that, never mind the trifling complaint you presented with, you’re in the danger zone for heart disease, diabetes and God knows what else. You’ll be sent away with a flea in your ear, told to quit smoking, lay off the booze, chuck out the cheese and develop a taste for quinoa and power-walking. Perhaps you ignore all this excellent advice and die years before your time.