Keats and Chapman nursed their
respective hangovers in the unforgiving glare of a McDonald's. They
sat in silence, occasionally stealing glances at headlines in a
neighbour's Irish Independent whose health supplement bemoaned the
country's medical problems. When their order arrived and their fellow
diner had lumbered away they fell to discussing, between gulps of
Coca-cola and gobbets of Quarter Pounders with Cheese, diabetes
mellitus.
'It's a terrible affliction,
Chapman. Scourge of the modern world'.
'Nice name though', reflected Keats
as his head began to clear.
Chapman looked up from the discarded
lettuce in his cardboard tray, 'You think? Doesn't 'diabetes' simply
mean 'to pass through'? It can make you piss like a fire-hose'.
'I was referring to its full
name' replied Keats, somewhat testily. 'Mellitus' stems from
'honey-like'. It was an Englishman, Thomas Willis, that first applied
it to diabetes - he tasted a patient's urine and found it sweet. His
bold dégustation contributed greatly to our understanding of
the disease'.
'I suppose scientists often draw conclusions using a process of elimination', observed Chapman, before hurrying to
the jacks.
