Here she is, for example, describing with unchecked rage an intolerable aspect of her student days:

The linkage between smoking and lung cancer had not been affirmed in the early 1960s. Smoking was even permitted in lecture halls when I was in medical school. Many days after lunch, two of my more asinine, self-centered male classmates delighted in smoking, not just cigarettes, but cigars, filling the close, noncirculating air with thick, heavy swirls of foul tobacco smoke. I find cigarette smoke abhorrent, but cigars are an abomination of the devil.

And on the man she married when young, a former Olympian javelin thrower:

Many have described Phil as a six-foot-three Paul Newman look-alike, a most desirable bachelor who was ready for marriage and not interested in delaying his life's plans by waiting for me to finish medical school, even though my degree would irrevocably change the life he had envisioned for himself. ... When we are together the contrast between us makes me appear very feminine, an image I enjoy. I do not enjoy, however, being ignored, something that happens quite frequently when we function together as a couple. Only rarely am I asked whether or not I work. At times at social affairs I am tempted to wear a T-shirt embossed with "I'm a brain surgeon--if interested, ask!"