On the flight, Dalrymple gets chatting to the passenger seated next to him.
As soon as he learnt that I was a doctor he pointed to the left side of his chest, where he thought his heart was. ‘I get these pains,’ he said. ‘Like little stabs. Do you think it’s my heart?’ I told him it was not his heart. All the same, he should lose weight and give up smoking.
‘I know. Maybe I’ll do some exercise — jogging. What do you think?’ I thought it was most unlikely he would ever take any exercise. After a few minutes’ silent remuneration he said: ‘Maybe I’ll get it checked out anyway.’