Thursday 22nd February 1990   Morning surgery 08.55

“Good morning, Mrs Vaughan!”
“Good morning, Dr Dennis! This is my neice, Victoria. She is staying with me for half term.”
My Dad smiled. “What can I do for you, Victoria?”
“It’s iritis, doctor: my left eye. It’s red and sore. I have got photophobia and my vision is slightly blurred. I’ve had it before.”
“Right?”
“I was just looking at your Snellen chart, on the wall. The fourth line is out-of-focus. Normally, I can see right to the bottom.”
“Right.”
“It is lucky that your light bulb needs replacing. A brighter light would be quite uncomfortable.”
“Right.”
“You can examine my eye, if you want. Last time, my own doctor gave me maxidex drops. They work very quickly.”
“Right.”

Victoria leant forward, close to my Dad, and whispered. “Auntie Val said that her eye was sore this morning, doctor. She doesn’t realise you can’t catch iritis!”

Iritis.