At the age of 2 years, I was admitted to my local cottage hospital for a minor surgical procedure. In keeping with routine practice in the 1960s, my parents were allowed to visit only for a few hours each day, and they vividly recall my resulting distress. Furthermore, on returning to the hospital 10 days later, for removal of sutures, my reaction was so extreme that a normally even-tempered boy had to be dragged out from under a table and physically restrained by six adults to complete a simple procedure. Fortunately, I have no recollection of these events, but my parents speculate that this was the point I decided on a career in medicine, …