Our family is mourning the death of my Uncle George. He died in hospital, aged eighty-six. The purpose of writing this article is the fact that I was disgusted at the low quality of food that my Uncle was offered during his stay in hospital - in what turned out to be the final days of his life. I am hoping that somebody out there, such as a Jamie Oliver, reads these mutterings and are able to improve the situation in the future.
My Uncle George did have, it has to be said, a good innings - so to speak. I do however believe that he had a number of years ahead of him and even though he was aged eighty-six when he died it still came as very much of a shock. George, you see, was not a frail man - in fact he was still fairly strong both mentally and physically.
About two months ago George was admitted to hospital as he was suffering with severe chest pains - unfortunately he never did return home.
As the days went by my Uncle became weaker and weaker; it was horrible to see the way in which he rapidly declined. At one stage and during one of my regular hospital visits to see George, I stated that I thought that he needed to make more of an effort to eat the hospital food (one of the nurses had confided in me that he was not eating properly). Have you seen it - he joked? I decided to stay as it was nearly lunch time and what I saw being served up was a joke. Dry and very plain, poorly cooked food. I would not feed it to my dog!
Something has to be done about this - so please for all of you who have any kind of power please feed these ill patients something worthy of the name food.
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