Eat and be merry for tomorrow you may die-t. Dietitians. Do we ever go to see them because we LIKE to?

You get where this is going: I had to go and see one, last week. It's a bit like visiting a priest, in one of those old movies, where you expect to get flogged with the schijf van vijf (Dutch equivalent of MyPlate or Eatwell Plate) and have to whisper a million hail-mary's for each Mars bars you've had.

Confession, then, is listing what you eat in an average day. And each time she says "… and?" you have to realise that there is an answer to that question – you actually eat so much more than you think. Semi-skimmed yoghurt with cereal. The salad bar at lunch. The cappuccino's with sugar. The cheese platter at night. The bags, no, what's the superlative degree of potato chips?, the nuts, the.. and I can go on.

Her look is stern, she doesn't seem that concerned but she is about to give me her verdict and tell me off. I can imagine the wagging finger, the triumphant look on Iris' face as she now has Doctor's Approval to snatch away my last remaining (yeah, i wish) sin against healthy living. She inhales and begins: well.. that semi-skimmed yoghurt. WTF – I'm not eating non-fat yoghurt, if that's what you're about to recommend me, I'll burn up this entire revalidatiecentrum and you along with it! Oh wait, she's telling me, what? That I'd better choose full-fat options from now on? And those potato chips – better have them each night? What? And nuts? And cheese? Lots of dairy? Ten eggs a week is fine? And lots of animal fats? She's telling me to eat MORE? Did she actually formulate the words that amounted to the fact that it's a good idea to eat snacks each night?

Maybe I should feel offended – what am I, Mr Creosote? No way. Right now I'm actually happy to have ALS. Bring on the jamon iberica, the manchego, the omelette for breakfast, the ground beef burgers that Iris is preparing right now in our kitchen (I had to explain to the butcher here, in Spanish, what minced meat is, in Holland the cheapest variety of animal product to be found, I wanted to make bolognaise sauce, so he said "aahhhh!!" and ground up half a kilo of prime rib steak). You're welcome to share one if you happen to be in the neighborhood.