The events of this week have had me considering the vagaries of good health. It sounds cliched, I know, but why do some people enjoy (rude) health, while others suffer so much? Take me, for example – I smoke. I started when I was a teenager for all the usual boring reasons, and have never found it in myself to quit, despite numerous attempts to the contrary. And, yes, I know New Year is coming up and I could make it my resolution (again). I know the dangers. I know it’s stupid. But I still do it. If I woke up tomorrow with terminal lung cancer I would have no-one but myself to blame. The Religious Studies teacher I started working with when we were both green newbies and who died ten years ago from leukaemia (her second time around – she’d already beaten it once) didn’t smoke. She didn’t drink either. She’d just gotten married. So why her and not me? It doesn’t seem fair.