I regret to say that there are multiple points to which I must take issue in my treatment of the last few days.

Firstly, a true physician retains the title of "gentleman" only because he does not sully either his own hands or his patients' dignity by immodest physical handling or examinations. I am sorry to say that the doctor my servants chose for me has therefore forfeited his claim to that title. I shall say no more, but leave it to my gentle readers to draw their own inferences, painful tho' they may be.

Secondly, I cannot condone the new food my servants have taken to offering me far too many times every day. It is not flavourless, but rather too much to the contrary, as it has far too much flavour, of a singularly unpleasant type; it is served not on a silver platter but in a vulgar plastic syringe; and it is served in quantities suitable only for the greediest & most common of palates. Worst of all, my servants pay no attention when I inform them (in the clearest possible terms) of my distaste for the dish.

Thirdly, and finally, I am still ill.

Something Must Be Done.