A trailblazer for female physicians
Sydney Morning Herald
Saturday February 5, 2011
GWEN FLEMING 1916-2011Some time before she died, Gwen Fleming reacted to a get-well wish by paraphrasing Don Quixote: "To get well when you are dying is a terrible waste of good health."This wry humour characterised her life, which she began as Mary Gwenyth Lusby in Taree on June 9, 1916, the third of John and Caroline Lusby's six children. At age 11, Gwen took charge of the family when Caroline was ill. During the Depression the children shared shoes and went without.John, a schoolmaster in the classics, insisted his three daughters be educated. Gwen was a fine Latin scholar, another asset for a career in medicine, where, as she said, everything except "sore throat" was expressed in Latin. She was one of the first wave of women doctors to pass through the University of Sydney, graduating with a bachelor of medicine and bachelor of surgery in 1939, just in time to answer the call to service.She was made a captain, then promoted to major at Concord Military Hospital ("They called me 'sir' during the war"). She was the first female major in the Royal Australian Army Medical Corps and her specialty was thoracic medicine, although she was responsible for all medical procedures.Major Lusby treated returning soldiers and, when necessary, their wounded Japanese counterparts. While she was treating both with equal care, her brother, Bobby, of the 2/30 Australian Infantry Battalion, was dying as a prisoner of war on the Thailand-Burma railroad.In 1945, Fleming was one of the first women admitted as a member of the Royal Australasian College of Physicians. In 1973, she was made a Fellow.The flame in her life, a brilliant young surgeon called Justin Fleming who was serving with the Flying Doctor Service, called her late one evening from Broome, insisting it was urgent. Sounding a little tipsy, he said: "I'm sorry to call at this hour but I was wondering if you would marry me?"After their wedding in Sydney in 1946, Justin was awarded a Nuffield Fellowship to Oxford, where they took up residence at the Radcliffe Infirmary. They returned to Sydney in 1950 to raise what would be a family of six children, five of whom were delivered by one of Gwen's fellow medical graduates, Dr Gwen Kennedy.The family settled in Wollstonecraft and a love of cricket, theatre, art, music and literature was encouraged. The walls were hung with art, the Boyds and Dobells sharing the space with family portraits by Louise Cornwell. Gwen and Justin somehow fitted in some art lessons for themselves but their efforts were too modestly consigned to the family holiday retreat on the banks of Lake Eucumbene.Fleming was not ostentatiously holy ("God save me from the pious Carrrthlic", she would say), and some of her dearest friends held no beliefs, but there was fish on Fridays. There was also one formal family meal a week, a raucous affair where fervent ideologies or nascent political creeds were raised, bandied or demolished over a roast with a Seaview claret.Though her career was suspended while she raised the children, the house sometimes resembled a dormitory, where her expertise was invaluable. A note from Fleming for school purposes also served as a medical certificate. Apart from the expectation that the children attend to their studies and behave decently, discipline was by osmosis. To quell a rabble, Fleming occasionally resorted to the wooden spoon.She was tested by Justin's heavy workload, usually waiting to have dinner with him. On one occasion, though, she left his dinner in the warmer and went to bed. In his exhausted state, Justin ate not just the fish but also the plastic wrap around it.In 1974, aged 57, Justin suffered a fatal heart attack and Gwen became the breadwinner. She joined a cancer practice in Macquarie Street and took a post teaching medicine at St Vincent's Hospital, a demanding regime she continued until she was 77 years old.In her life, Fleming thought outside the square: a monarchist, she voted for a republic because she saw no point in obstructing what her children and grandchildren desired for the country that was their future. When her daughter Judy was the mayoress of Sydney with her husband, Frank Sartor, Fleming attended a royal dinner. When the Queen visited their table for a special greeting to the Whitlams, Gough said: "You see, Dr Fleming, she still talks to you, even if you're a republican!"Fleming maintained that crosswords and bananas were the secret to enduring health. She also had a voracious appetite for knowledge, with a leaning tower of books beside her favourite chair. She loved the cutting edge of science as well as poetry. She read The Lancet and The Tablet and loved music, everything from Sondheim to Wagner. On one of her last days, she asked her night nurse to put on a CD of Mahler's Resurrection and take her to the window to see the sunset.On January 21, Professor Marie Bashir wrote to the Fleming family expressing gratitude on behalf of the people of NSW for the life of Dr Gwen Fleming, "an outstanding Australian woman who was an inspiration to so many who had the privilege of meeting her - both within the medical profession and beyond".Gwen Fleming is survived by her children Margaret, Paul, Justin, Judith and Peter, 17 grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. Another son, James, died in 1999.
© 2011 Sydney Morning Herald
