At the age of four, I announced that I wanted to be a pediatrician, and my paternal grandmother taught me how to spell that word using a calendar with large letters hanging on her kitchen wall. It was many years before I actually knew what a pathologist was or what richness of experiences that I would gain personally and professionally by the almost happenstance series of events that led me to enter the world of pathology. Eventually those experiences and contacts helped develop the second phase of my career as the first full-time Director of the Office of Research on Women's Health (ORWH) at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) in 1991-a newly instituted position and endeavor for the NIH. As I look back on my somewhat dual career, more than 50 years in medicine, I find my pathway to the discipline of pathology and its resulting major influence on my professional pursuits and accomplishments rather amazing, even to me.Both of my parents were high school teachers, employed in separate town school systems due to contemporary rules that barred employing couples in the same school system. This led to my maternal grandparents in rural Halifax County (where I was born) and, later, my paternal grandparents in Lynchburg contributing much to my care during weekdays. This arrangement continued well into my elementary school years, until my mother was able to obtain a teaching position closer to our home in Lynchburg, which gave her the ability to commute daily and reunite my family in one residence. My father provided care to his parents, my grandfather, who eventually died of colon cancer, and my grandmother, who suffered from diabetes. I helped my family, especially my father, take care of my grandparents; I was taught, for example, to provide them with pain-relieving and insulin injections, and this introduced me to the thought and practice of caring for the ill. I was also impressed, in those days of house calls by physicians, by how everyone seemed better after the doctor's visit-my ailing grandparents who were treated and other family members who were relieved-so much that I decided I wanted to be a doctor. I was very fortunate and grateful, in those days when few women worked in medicine and when segregation was still the law in the 1940s and 1950s, that my parents and family never discouraged me from becoming a physician. They simply reminded me all the time that, if I wanted to go into medicine, I needed to study-a convenient way to exercise discipline over me.After graduating from a segregated high school in Lynchburg in 1958, I opted to attend college at one of the all-female Seven Sisters, Wellesley College in Massachusetts, as a scholarship and work-study premedical student. It was here that a series of events created the pathways to my future career. This is my journey in medicine, beginning in academic pathology and then leading a federal initiative to promote women's health research within and beyond the NIH.
FINDING MEDICINE AS MY FUTUREAt the end of my sophomore year of college, my mother was complaini...