Perhaps I was lucky; I went into medical school from postgrad physics and math,which I’d found dehumanizing, and discovered Freud’s scientific attempt to understand psychiatric disorders, as well as very humane descriptions of people suffering from anxiety, depression, etc, etc. It was a relief to have a knowledgeable European gentleman, Dr Heinz Lehman, at McGill, not only put a name to the conditions that bothered me but also point out a direction I could go for help, and perhaps even a career. When I eventually began psychiatric residency it seemed entirely natural to take a personal history, to get to know my patients, and together we seemed to find the causes of their distress, and this relieved their symptoms. Like me they had struggled to keep their feelings bottled up inside. This worked fine for over a year, although I recall some of my supervisors skipping sessions with me, until one of them told me to drug a recovering depressed patient. When I declined, and then refused to do so, he attempted to have me thrown out of the residency. I realized I was in the wrong profession: psychiatry aimed to treat symptoms with physical agents, while I had what seemed to me to be the scientific approach of searching for the cause of the problem. This led to fleeing McGill and Canada for psychoanalytic help in Britain, where by total accident my second training case suddenly became psychotic, and my supervisor, Dr Donald Winnicott, helped me to shut up and listen, and helped penetrate his thought disorder. I worked for years in crisis intervention and adolescent psychiatry at Fort Logan, Denver’s mental hospital, but these units were closed because we weren’t drugging people, so I spent the last 20 years of my career in Ottawa, where I could get paid by OHIP to do psychotherapy until patients became well. The most interesting and challenging patients were psychotic or had failed to be helped by repeated biological agents, and we often had to track the trauma to infancy. The professional groups to which I belonged didn’t want to hear this. My wife, who had been a top therapeutic community nurse in Britain when we married, and had helped me with psychotic patients, said that I was 50 years ahead of my time, but I fervently hope that humane help is offered to people before then. Perhaps I should write more detailed descriptions of how my patients and I did this, but there has been so little interest in my efforts that it’s discouraging.