Two to Four, Six to Eight

Two to Four, Six to Eight

My Grandfather's Work Schedule
Philadelphia, PA
1946

Forever, my father claimed that Doc worked from 2 to 4 and then 6 to 8; not a minute before and not a minute later.  My father described Doc as a person who didn’t like the field of medicine. He didn’t like to work and he didn’t seem to like people all that much, with the exception of his immediate family, of course.

He was described by my uncle as intolerant of anyone who violated these limited hours. As people interrupted his dinner at 5:00PM because of a broken leg or a severed foot or other emergencies, he would slam down his napkin and ask “Cant a man eat in peace”?  Doc would describe them all as inconsiderate, selfish, and thoughtless.  

How dare they interfere with his dinner. Doc, my grandfather, once told my father, “If you ever go into medicine, become a dermatologist.  They don’t have emergencies.  They don’t get interrupted at home”.

And so Doc’s working hours became a family joke.  Two to four, six to eight would become our mantra to describe the prefect work schedule.  You could sleep in every day; get up and run errands; work a little bit; have dinner with your family and then go back to you office, right off the kitchen and just tidy up a few things in the office and then call it a day.

Not a bad life and he thought so too.  In a letter he wrote to my grandmother in 1946, he tells her, “I earned $42 this week, not a bad salary.”

How different the doctor’s world is today.  Liability insurance, health insurance, professional dues, HIPPA regulations, etc. all pose problems for doctors which force them to work longer, billable hours in each and every day possible. How can a doctor practice today without an exhaustion that makes it nearly impossible to cultivate a quality of life outside of work?

I was thinking of how my grandfather would survive in today’s world of medicine.  And as I was fumbling through all sorts of family memorabilia recently, I found my immunization sheet.  Doc had given me the injections.  And today, as I reflected on my gratitude to him for keeping me healthy, I noticed his letterhead.  He worked even less hours than we had thought.  He only worked an hour after dinner.  Now that is a man to be admired.

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