PERIPHERALIA

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We all have a problem keeping a balance between work and 
family life.  The Johannesburg psychiatrist, Bernard Levinson 
once wrote: 

“Doctors’ children are very special.  They grow up in the hurly-
burly of telephone calls, consultations and emergencies.   
A world in which every person has priority over their own 
needs. In a setting of such intense caring, the doctor’s 
children often have to wait”.

The balance between work and family has never been easy 
for a profession whose demands are irregular and often 
spread over a time frame, which is not only long but also 
unpredictable.  Societal pressures and expectations often 
unwittingly program us into a way of life that puts us onto 
a never-ending treadmill.  The pressure is often more on 
female doctors who have increasingly entered the profession 
of medicine over the last half century.   They often have to 
divide themselves simultaneously into quarters (almost 
hung, drawn and quartered!) between work, wife and the 
traditional roles of housekeeper and mother.

Much depends on what stage of our life-cycle we are 
presently in, such as intern, registrar, or middle-aged 
practitioner.  You may look around and find there is not 
much you can alter.  We did a short workshop once on the 
question: If you can change nothing at work what would be 
the changes you could make on a personal level?  Sometimes 
time management comes out as a life decision rather than 
a work decision. Identifying and finding “time” usually 
needs some difficult decisions around income and life-style 
requirements but there is always time for fishing.  I remember 
one evening going down with my youngest son to one of 
the dams on his grandparents’ farm in the Drakensberg.  He 
must have been about six years old at the time.  I had this 
old fishing rod and some spinners and we were after large-
mouth bass.  I made a couple of casts and on the third one I 
realised that I had hooked a bass and it was firmly on the end 
of the line.  I handed the rod over to the lad and asked him to 
look after it and said that I had to check for something in the 
cooler box.  It did not take long before there was some yelling 
and great excitement as, with some help, he pulled in his first 
catch.  We cut a long stalk of stiff veld grass and threaded it 
through the fish’s gills so that he could carry it up to the farm 
house for inspection and admiration by the assembled family 
and retainers.  I had to dissuade him from sleeping with it 

next to his bed that night.   One needs to have taken the time 
off in order to have these memories.

There was one of those folk songs in the 1970s called Cat’s in 
the Cradle by Harry Chapin about the relationship between 
a son and his father.  In relation to his own son, he once said 
“frankly, this song scares me to death”. 

It tells the story of the father who is too busy to spend time 
with his son.

My son turn 10 just the other day
He said “thanks for the ball, Dad; come on, let’s play

Can you teach me to throw
I said, “not today, I got a lot to do.”

The refrain in the song goes something like:
“I don’t know when, but we will get together

and then we will have a good time”

It is a paean to a life of postponement now common in most 
of our lives until we realise that the time has gone by and the 
son or daughter is asking for the car keys.

It is the friction between wanting  to provide the best life for 
our families and having the money and time to achieve it – 
especially for the people who are the most important to us.

Interestingly, by our behaviour, we seem to set a repetitive 
generational cycle.

At the end of the song the father is missing his son and the 
wheel has turned.

“I’ve long since retired, and my son’s moved away
I called him up just the other day

I said “I would like to see you if you don’t mind”
He said, “I’d love to, Dad, if I could find the time

You see, my new job’s a hassle, and the kid’s got the flu
But it’s sure nice talking to you, Dad

It’s been sure nice talking to you”. 

So let’s cancel next week’s bookings and maybe the week 
after that too.  As the Canadian physician, Sir William Osler 
said, “the future is today”.

I hope she does not forget the child’s lunch. 

Chris Ellis is a family physician from Pietermaritzburg, 
KwaZulu-Natal

Email: cristobalellis@gmail.com

The balance between work and family