Fifty Shades is not a doctor, but he is fascinated by diseases.
His interest is not so much a morbid fascination with which diseases cause particular bodily parts to swell, drop off, change colour or give off a rancid smell, although they are always good for giggles.
No, Fifty Shades’ interest is more in the origin of the name of the disease, and there are some real crackers out there.
Cock’s Peculiar Tumour, for example. Stop your schoolboy sniggering at the back, it’s a scalp problem, caused by a by a blocked hair follicle and named after British surgeon Edward Cock.
Bourneville-Pringle disease is not a pathological desire to stay in at night and stuff yourself with plain chocolate and crisps, while Abercrombie disease is not an obsession for wearing the preppy-style American apparel and lifestyle brand.
Then there are the diseases, which are named from countries.
Rubella is otherwise known as German Measles and doesn’t instil in the victim the need to drape a beach towel over a sunbed or invade Poland.
Spanish Flu was a barrel of ‘larfs’, the last big pandemic in 1918 killed between 50-100million people, or between 1-3% of the world’s population.
Syphilis was known as The French Disease, after we decided to lump the blame for our soldiers in The Great War returning with a dose of clap firmly on to the shoulders of our neighbours across The Channel.
But the weekend saw another outbreak of The English Disease, and the alarming signs are that it is spreading.
The English Disease, or to give its proper medical name Anglicus Superbum Expectatio (or English Overhyped Expectation) normally breaks out every two years, and coincides with England’s football team going off to a major tournament, giving rise to two strains of the disease Anglicus Superbum Expectatio Mundo or Anglicus Superbum Expectatio Europa.
The first symptoms of this disease include large swellings of the sense of ability, delusions of grandeur coupled with an unrealistic expectation of a place at the top table of world football, involuntary waving of two fingers and a Tourettes-like compulsion to insult Brazilians and Argentines (Mundo strain) and the French, Italians and Germans (Europa strain).
These symptoms are usually accompanied by a sub-strain affecting the tabloids and which stokes the fires of arrogance, increases the swelling of sense of ability and exacerbates the delusions of grandeur.
This particular sub-strain of the disease is known as Murdoch’s Variant.
The stage of the disease normally lasts for two weeks, or until England reach the last eight, at which point the second set of symptoms kick in.
These include a painful sense of realism, the deflation of the swollen delusions of grandeur, a virulent compulsion to blame referees, FIFA/UEFA and an irrational feeling of suspicion and inferiority to Johnny Foreigner.
Victims usually make a full recovery in little over two weeks following England’s exit, but the disease lies dormant in the victim’s body and will flare up again at the next major tournament.
The English Disease was previously only contracted by football fans, and it was thought that the wearing of Barbour coats, mustard-coloured or dusty pink corduroys, brown country brogues, Windowpane or Tattersall-check shirts, a tweed cap or wide-brimmed Akubra hat, and the carrying of a hip-flask containing Scotch made rugby fans immune.
Further immunisation from the disease could be obtained by the driving of a Range Rover, the holding of a blue-chip share portfolio, the wearing of an Old Boys Association tie from a private school and the singing of ‘Sweet Chariot’.
But it appears that the disease has spread among the egg-chasing brigade.
England travelled to Cardiff on a wave of optimism that they would trouser their first Six Nations Grand Slam since Gareth Gates and The Kumars were number one with ‘Spirit in the Sky’.
After all, Wales were ineffectual in losing to Ireland in their opening game, and had lost their previous five international matches in Cardiff as their Six Nations campaign had stuttered and shuffled along.
It caused the development of a new strain of the disease, Anglicus Superbum Expectatio Sex Terris, as English rugby believed its own hype.
But the swelling egos, delusions of grandeur and other symptoms of cockiness took a firm hold and England were forced to take to their sickbeds as the disease took hold.
Unfortunately, while England scuttled back over the border to take their medicine, there are reports of an outbreak of a new ailment in Wales.
Cambrica Ferendus Convorto (or Welsh Insufferable Jerk) syndrome has affected large parts of the population.
The symptoms for this include sneering, overpreening, arrogance, cockiness, daffodil wearing, leek-eating and the issue of constant reminders that Gareth Bale is not English.
This ailment can last for some time, but the simple cure is the dismantling of the Severn Crossing and pointing out that Wales and Craig Bellamy deserve each other.
By John May