In the intro to our website there was a small mistake when it was originally put together. An "h" was added to 'heart disease' thereby creating a disease not much written about in medical textbooks...'heartH disease.' It is, however, one I've met on more than one occcasion, the first time being in 1972, in a small northern town in England. Back in those days we made housecalls after our 'surgery'(... 'office'), which was divided into two sessions, two hours in the morning and three in the afternoon. Housecalls were made in the intervening period, and there were often a lot of them. Since the distances involved were (usually) not great it was not as difficult as it sounds, although that was not always the case. One day a call came in for one of the docs to go to a particularly poor area of our practice (there were three of us then, in that practice, the oldest was a man of eighty five, he worked till he died in harness at ninety four... no joke.) We were asked to go to see a small child too sick to leave his bed. I had not been to that area before and was not sure of the way. My senior partner, not lazy despite his age, said, "I'm going that direction and I know the family. I'll pop in with you (he was always popping in somewhere) and introduce you to them. Then they'll be yours. I've done my time down that street. It's your turn now." We drove through the rain, arrived at the top of the street, where we had to leave our cars because the passageway was cobbled and too narrow to allow them in. It was a very run down area of the town, near the docks. I was cold as soon as I stepped out of the car. An English winter, in the north, means rain and cold and wind. "Follow me," my partner said and knocked on the door of one of the row houses. "Shop!" he shouted, and walked straight in. I followed and found myself in the living room of a tiny house. There was no hallway, just the one living room and beyond it a small kitchen. I could smell smoke and the place was damp. An open fireplace was to my right and around it were sitting three women, fishwives who had no work because it was winter time and the trawlers were not out unless they had to be. It was too dangerous. They lasses had shawls around their shoulders, and their feet, with no shoes or stockings, were facing the fire. I remember a large coal scuttle, and coal dust. "Mary," said my partner, "this is Doctor Bart. He'll be looking after you from now on." Then, "You'll get hearth disease again, sitting like that." "It's too cold not to," she said, " as well you know." "What's hearth disease?" I asked, the innocent abroad. "Them," she replied as she poked a leg out to show me one shin. On it were small red spots, some with a little head. There were more of them around her toes. "Chilblains," said my partner, "from sitting too close to the fire, and they hurt." "S'better than having cold feet," Mary said.