Thursday 8th November 1990   Morning coffee break  12.25 

“I like your new glasses. They are very stylish.”
“I haven’t got new glasses.”
“Don’t be coy, Desmond. Tortoiseshell really suits you.” Dr Lewis laughed. She enjoyed teasing my dad.
My Dad took his glasses off. He stared at them. “These aren’t mine!”

“Oh, my God! These are Mr Wilkins glasses. I wanted to look at the back of his eyes with the ophthalmoscope and put my glasses on the desk. He put his glasses next to mine. I must have put his on by mistake. No wonder I couldn’t make head or tail of Mrs Wood’s rash. I am sorry, Dennis. It probably was Tinea Corporis after all.”
“It looked pretty obvious to me, Dad.”

“ANDREA!” my Dad had to shout because the practice manager’s office was half way down the corridor. “Can you get hold of Mr Wilkins. I need my glasses back as soon as possible.”

The pitfalls of fundoscopy.