I searched frantically for this photo, prompted to look for it by another person’s contribution to Family Fortunes. It was a photo that reaches back in time, tears at my heart and my head and shakes me to the core.

It is of me, aged six, in 1960 in Crumlin’s children hospital, recovering from rheumatic fever, which was a real killer at the time.

I have flashes of memory: Mr Ward, the head doctor, using penicillin, the miracle medicine at the time. Getting jabs in the backside every night. Nurses gently teasing me over a mole I have under my chin, and me fighting back and saying ‘That’s a beauty spot’, a description I dragged from deep in my mind. Being beside a boy who had a bubble of plastic over his head and shoulders, who once ran down the corridor, completely nude, and whodied not long after.

I remember my dad charming his way in to see me outside of visiting hours. I remember also my brother Chris looking at me through the hospital windows, him in for a broken arm. On real sunny days, I would be wheeled outside in my bed, on to the long veranda. Eight months or so later, when I arrived home, the house seemed really small. I was on medication for years, though no health issues dogged me.

I obviously found the photograph. There I am, fat from the medication, but happy from all the attention and presents.

• We would love to receive your family memories, anecdotes, traditions, mishaps and triumphs. Email 350 words and a relevant photograph if you have one to familyfortunes@irishtimes.com. A fee will be paid