My mother, Elizabeth Hoffman, who has died aged 92, was an anaesthetist and an accomplished amateur musician.
Betty was born in Ilford, Essex. Her father, Philip, was an optical engineer who invented the artificial horizon used as a navigational aid for pilots in the second world war. At an early age she determined to become independent of her family.
During the second world war she drove ambulances around London, peering up through the windscreen because she was too short to see out. She also did fire-watching on the roof of Exeter Cathedral, looking out for incendiary bombs. Upon qualifying as a doctor at the Royal Free hospital in London, she took up work at a hospital in Vancouver, Canada, without pay. Travelling home through the Rocky Mountains by rail with no money for food, she was bought a meal by a stranger on the train.
Back in London, Betty returned to the Royal Free, then the only hospital to offer clinical training for women. Walking home late through dark streets, she took care to wear an old coat and flat shoes so that she was able to run if she found herself in danger. As a young woman she had also been a keen swimmer.
Taking a job in Sedgefield, County Durham, she met her future husband, Eugene Hoffman, at a classical music concert. Eugene was a consultant chest surgeon whose research included work on the benefit of seat belts in cars. When the couple married in 1963, Betty was a consultant anaesthetist at Middlesbrough general hospital. When I started learning the violin aged six, Betty took up the cello. She played for many years with her quartet at home in Middlesbrough, was also a member of the Teesside Symphony Orchestra and supported the Teesside Music Society, accommodating visiting artists. She also sang in a madrigal group for many years.
Betty became an expert flower arranger and loved walking and skiing in France or Switzerland, and the planning that this involved. Giving up work in 1983 was a big blow and she felt she had lost her purpose in life, so she became a voracious reader. Eugene died in 1997.
My mother faced the onset of Alzheimer's disease without complaint and took comfort during her last illness in my practising the Bach Brandenburg Concertos by her bedside. She is survived by me, her only daughter.