Following fortune's path.

Your position never gives you the right to command. It only imposes on you the duty of living your life so that others can receive your orders without being humiliated. grew up in Canberra in the 1920s and '30s, then, as now, a planned and favoured town awash with politics, politicians and public servants. Although interested in these dynamics, our caring, skilled family doctor was the person who most impressed me. John James FRCS was our community's quiet medical leader, later recognised through the John James Medical Centre, now part of Canberra's teaching hospital system. My parents were typical of their time. My father had emigrated from Britain in his teens and served in France in World War I. He was a public servant with the Federal Capital Commission (which from January 1925 was responsible for the planning and development of Canberra). He had a vocational flair for amateur theatricals of music hall and comedy genre. My mother was a capable homemaker. We became aware of the Great Depression just about the time my sister was born. My parents combined to have our large yard supplement our pantry. Mother became a genius in food preserving with the Fowler Vacola steam preservation kit, providing a great variety of foods. As children, my sister and I had warm and strong emotional, social and aspirational support, but our choices for our futures were our own. My parents offered two aphorisms: " Hard work is not lethal " and " Loyalty and fairness are necessary for success ". I have not found either to be wanting. In choosing a career, medicine held no competitor for me, although I dallied momentarily with veterinary science. I experienced the grief of three of my school classmates succumbing to diseases that now rarely cause death: poliomyelitis, mastoiditis and diphtheria. Polio returned to the class several times, and, although not lethal, it was damaging beyond reason, both physically and psychologically. Polio, in particular, marginalised those it affected. I felt that more could be done to alleviate this unfairness. " The effect of a teacher may be infinite " My undergraduate days during World War II were spent at the University of Sydney and at St Vincent' s Hospital, Darlinghurst. I commuted daily on the on-time " red rattler " (today we say " if only ") and travelled between campuses on the tram. Hospital life as a student was …