Sripurna Basu talks to this inspirational recently retired paediatric surgeon

A stereotype of female surgeons is that they are all aggressive and domineering. Whoever started that rumour has not met Leela Kapila, a recently retired consultant paediatric surgeon.

My first sight of Miss Kapila is of a welcoming figure swathed in a yellow chiffon sari, ushering me into the Royal College of Surgeons of England. Before her retirement, this softly spoken woman combined clinical commitments as a paediatric surgeon at Nottingham's University Hospital with responsibilities as an examiner and an elected member of the Royal College of Surgeons council. She has also held the chairs of Women in Surgical Training and the Education Board.

As we settle into the plush lounge, surrounded by grand oil paintings of surgeons, Miss Kapila expresses surprise and delight that she is here at all, "I have not always done things on my own initiative. Sometimes people have suggested that I try things," and this is exactly how she fell into surgery.

In 1962, a forward thinking consultant surgeon, A J Walton, who Miss Kapila worked for as a house officer, suggested she consider a surgical career. Her first reaction was, "It's a man's job." She had just arrived from India and had little idea about the NHS system. For example, on her first ward round she was concerned about the number of investigations being carried out, because she thought the patients would have to pay.

Undaunted by the wobbly start, she began work as the only female surgical trainee in her region. She worked through posts in orthopaedics, casualty, and general surgery, with no thoughts about the future. Looking back, Miss Kapila can see why she loved it so much, " I am a practically minded person who likes to see instant results." So surgery was perfect for her even though she did not realise this until someone told her to do it.

After passing surgical examinations, she took a post working for the professor of surgery at The London Hospital. She still had no plans and confessed her predicament to the professor. He explained her options, and that was when she first considered paediatric surgery, a small and relatively new specialty. She thought that this field would allow her to combine surgery--her present passion--and paediatrics, her original career plan. She trained for her specialty at Great Ormond Street and in 1974 was appointed consultant surgeon at the Queen's Medical Centre, Nottingham. According to Miss Kapila, her career was full of serendipity and the kind advice of mentors. At no point did she mention difficulties, even though I intuitively thought she must have encountered some. Being an Asian woman must have posed problems. For example, a few decades ago, it must have been strange to see Miss Kapila striding through the surgical wards in a sari.

But Miss Kapila insists that there was no prejudice. She had a job to do and people expected her to get on with it. She thinks that the problems she encountered were no different to those of her male colleagues. When the president of the Royal College of Surgeons asked her to take on Women in Surgical Training as part of her responsibilities as a council member, she was initially reluctant, "I believe that women should get on regardless. They don't need any special privileges. It's not a case of despite being a woman you should get there but because of who you are."

She agreed to work with Women in Surgical Training, and the position brought her into contact with many other female consultant surgeons and surgical trainees. Many told stories of discrimination and soon Miss Kapila realised that her organisation was needed both as a support system and to help boost the number of women in surgery. She thinks that this tall aim was not gratuitous as "surgery wants good candidates and recruiting from an ever decreasing pool of male medical students will inevitably result in a lower calibre of surgical trainee."

Miss Kapila went into countless sixth forms with her box of surgical paraphernalia to talk to girls. Their reaction was positive, "I have had a lot of female students who have been encouraged to do paediatric surgery because they see that I enjoy my job and have succeeded. If they see a woman as a surgeon they think they can do it."

She stresses, however, that surgery is a demanding job and women have to get to grips with reality. They have to compromise and prioritise. She states, "Surgery is not a nine to five job," and admits that she is not in favour of the European Working Time Directive (which means that by 2009, doctors in training can only work 48 hours per week.)

She contrasts today's doctors and their concern over quality of lifestyle with a time when medicine was a vocation and doctors unselfishly served the community. She does not expect doctors to work the hours her generation did but no one should deny the unpredictable nature of hours in surgery. She explains, "You have to put in the time to gain the experience. You cannot say that I will not do emergency work because I am a woman. If you are single then it is the same as being a man, if you are married you will need an understanding husband."

Miss Kapila is lucky to have a "wonderful husband" who she met while working as a registrar. Her husband was aware of her career commitments. She did not have children because she "married late so was spared that" but she points out that women do successfully juggle surgery with having children. From her experience and contacts in Women in Surgical Training, she emphasises the importance of home help and child care. "Organisation and time management are a must," she says, "and women are good at this sort of thing. They can do more than one thing at a time."

So what makes a good surgeon? "You have to be practical and decisive. Surgeons need stamina because once you have started an operation you have to see it through. It may take longer than you thought, but you have to finish it." The other qualities she lists are toughness and being a team player with good communication skills. Prerequisite to success in surgery, "You have got to have the personality to cope with the life. If you don't then you don't make the grade; there is no reason why women cannot do this."

Miss Kapila certainly made the grade in surgery. Behind the gentle manner is a shrewd lady with the drive to succeed. She comes from an older generation of surgeons who have conformed to the ethos of grit and guts and relish the machismo of surgery. She admits, however, that she has had a "selfish career" because she has achieved all the things she wanted to. As I leave her at the door of the Royal College I ponder how many women are prepared to rise to the challenge and sacrifice all on the altar of surgery?