I know it's not technically an illness, but when I was 14 I ended up in Casualty with a large barbed fish hook embedded in my head just above my right ear. I had accidentally knocked over my mate's tackle box, and while I was picking it all up, he swung back to cast his line, and...well...you can guess the rest.
My other mate, Biff Bailey, reckoned his dad could get the hook out, without me having to go to casualty and possibly having part of my head shaved (which was the major concern of mine at that moment, being a long-haired teen of the 70's), so we popped over to his house. Biff was the biggest and clumsiest lad in the class, and his old man was exactly what you'd have expected of his dad. He took a look at it and agreed with his son that he might be able to get it out. Still concerned about my mane, I gave my consent. It was only when he reached into the kitchen drawer and pulled out the bread knife that I suddenly had a change of heart, and decided my hair wasn't quite worth dying for.
Casualty snipped off the barb and fed the hook through. No clippers or bread knife needed. I felt such a plonker! Plus I was a vegetarian - I'd have had a panic attack if I'd ever actually caught anything. I only took up fishing so I could have a smoke with my mates down at the harbour.
Which brings me (eventually) to my coronary event.........
