Except for the times when he is in reservist training, Dr Quek Swee Chong is surrounded by women.

At work, the gynaecologist sees female patients. He comes home to his wife, actress Karen Tan, and their two daughters, Rachel, 13, and Olivia, four.

Even his three cats are female.

Little wonder that he finds it easier to talk to women.

He says: 'Women are more likely to talk and I like to talk. I like to sit down to talk about mundane things or about one topic the entire night. It is not something you can easily do with a lot of guys.'

Talking is something that the 45-year- old does well. He is an engaging conversationalist, knowledgeable about topics ranging from cameras and music to medicine, especially cervical cancer. He is a strong advocate of vaccination for the cancer and gives talks and lectures on the topic.

But it is unlikely he can out-talk his motormouth wife, Tan, whose stage charisma spills into her everyday life. Her conversation, complete with dramatic gestures, is half comedy routine, half confessional spill-all. And for the record, no, she does not feel jealous of all the female company he keeps.

They may be talkative but the couple, who have been married 16 years, are from very different worlds.

Dr Quek is a senior consultant at the department of gynaecological oncology in KK Women's and Children's Hospital.

He is strait-laced and stable, she is dramatic and kooky.

Tan, known for her trademark cat eye glasses, has been acting since she was five. She has starred in hard-hitting dramas, belted songs out in musicals and entertained children in pantomimes. She was also the host of The Ra Ra Show, the Channel 5 comedy sketch show with Kumar.

They differ in their hobbies too, but they seem reconciled to the fact.

Tan, 42, says breezily: 'He plays golf, I loathe it.'

He adds: 'I fish, she gets seasick.'

She says: 'He plays squash, tennis, basketball, ping pong, badminton. I have no ball sense.'

They both enjoy music but cannot sing together.

She says: 'He is very specific about notes, I am very specific about words. And never the twain shall meet.'

Life! meets them at their rented 1,800 sq ft private apartment in upmarket Robin Road, their home since 2001. Little Olivia is doodling while Rachel is fiddling with a digital camera.

The flat is an eclectic mix of styles: wooden antique furniture, a lime-green couch and Tan's framed cross-stitch on the walls. The dining table set was designed by Dr Quek's late father, Quek Kiok Boo, an architect who occasionally designed furniture.

Dr Quek offers this reporter a large bowl of laksa prepared by their maid.

The trim doctor says he is not very health-conscious, adding: 'At the end of the day, you could get knocked down by a bus and die anyway, right?'

He admits that life with a drama queen is not smooth sailing. 'It is enjoyable, unpredictable and exciting. But you can't say it is easy. She has her moods. But you can't stay angry at her for long. She is the most generous and sincere person. She will go out of her way, if she believes in something, to help other people.'

He says one of the low points was when Tan, who is prone to depression, suffered from post-natal blues when she had their first daughter. The couple were living in London at that time, where he was working.

Away in a foreign city, they had no relatives or domestic help. He says: 'It took some time before I even realised she was suffering from depression as we were so caught up in the maelstrom of caring for a newborn without any outside help.

'I don't think my being a doctor made it any easier for her but I guess it was easier for me to understand what she was going through and why.'

They did not go out on couple dates until Rachel turned two and they discovered babysitters.

He says they learnt a lot about each other then, adding: 'It was a strengthening experience though I would not want to go through it again.'

Tan is open about her experiences and even gives talks at KK Hospital's psychiatric department on pregnant women's emotional well-being.

'She wears her heart on her sleeve. I admire her for it,' he says.

She is upfront about being mercurial, admitting that she has a short fuse and is usually the one who starts the arguments.

Her searing honesty is something he appreciates.

'People say that women are very complex because you never know what they are thinking,' he says. 'But you always know what Karen is thinking. When she is angry with you, you know. I think that is a good thing.'

She says she is affected by people who cast doubts on how they overcome their seemingly irreconcilable differences. Someone once told her that he should not have married her.

She says: 'You really start to think. I was not promiscuous, I was not a drug addict, I was not an alcoholic, I did not murder anybody. I work hard.'

This haunts her in the interview. When she goes through some of her flaws, she repeats, not just for comic effect: 'See? He really shouldn't have married me.'

Asked who wears the pants in the relationship, Tan says: 'Him, lah. I like to wear dresses.'

He returns: 'We cross-dress quite a bit.'

The witty doctor says he is comfortable socialising with theatre folks. They are good friends with another couple in theatre, Adrian and Tracie Pang, whose two boys are their god-children.

Tracie Pang, 39, a stage director, says of him: 'Swee Chong is such a wonderful person, level-headed and easy to talk to. His feet are firmly planted on the ground and he keeps everyone grounded.

'I believe in the idea that opposites attract. Karen is a true actress, she loves the arts and she is excitable and emotional. Swee Chong is the person to keep her focused and in touch with real life.'

There was a fair bit of friendly bickering during the interview. Tan says she is the one who apologises first after an argument though he insists it is '60-40 me'.

They also disagree on their parenting decisions. She has an explosive temper and perhaps takes after her retired administrative officer father, Mr Tan Kong Wee, 80, who is the 'disciplinarian by temper'. Her mother Tan Phaik In, 77, is a retired nurse.

His erratic work hours are also a source of disagreement. He often goes back to the hospital after 11pm to check on patients and has had to leave family dinners halfway to deliver a baby.

The solution: The family goes out in two cars now so he can always drive off.

But their little spats seem to stem from a relationship in which they both have a deep respect for each other.

He says: 'She has a rare ability to talk to people, to make them feel at ease. People find me a bit formal and hard to break through to. She gets there just by being completely unafraid to reveal how she is feeling. There is no two-facedness about her.'

As for her, she tells the story of how at the height of the Sars crisis in 2003, he volunteered to help set up an obstetrics and gynaecology unit for pregnant Sars victims in Tan Tock Seng Hospital.

Over dinner, someone asked her why she allowed him to do it, given that he could become infected. She said that pregnant Sars victims needed medical attention too and the person said: 'Obviously you do not know very much about Sars.'

Tan says: 'I never felt so angry in my life. That, to me, set Swee Chong apart from everybody else. I felt that none of those people in the room will ever be as good a doctor as him, or as compassionate.'

He delivered his daughter

He went into medicine partly because it was his late mother's wish when she was suffering from breast cancer. Madam Goh Soh Eng was an English teacher and died when he was 19.

He is the eldest of three children. His brother, Swee Tiag, 44, is a pilot, and his sister, Swee Peck, 41, is an academic.

His father was a good tenor and Dr Quek enjoyed singing and went for classical singing lessons. He briefly considered a singing career but chose the more practical course of being a doctor.

In 1983, he left for medical school in Dublin for almost six years before coming back home for national service.

He met his wife in Singapore when he was acting in a musical organised by Christian group Eagles Communications. He was good at singing but needed acting coaching from Tan, who was roped in to help with the production.

He was a general practitioner for a few years before he decided to specialise in gynaecology. After marrying Tan in 1993, they moved to London where he practised at the University College and Whittington Hospitals.

They lived in London for seven years, during which Rachel was born.

When he returned to Singapore in 2000, he joined KK Hospital as a medical officer and rose through the ranks to become senior consultant.

He delivered their younger daughter Olivia by accident. Tan, who was supposed to be seen by another doctor in KK Hospital, went into labour three hours before the expected time.

Her husband got to her first and delivered the baby. Her doctor came later and cut the umbilical cord.

Now, Dr Quek also lectures widely on the prevention of cervical cancer in women. He is an adviser to two drug companies producing cancer vaccines.

He travels about 12 to 15 times a year to teach and even gives this reporter an impromptu and in-depth explanation of what the vaccines do.

During his travels, he enjoys buying presents for his family, who agree that he is a thoughtful gift-giver.

He knows his wife's taste in clothes, shoes and bags. 'She likes things that are out of the ordinary and a little quirky.' He recently bought her a pair of 15cm platform clogs from Malaysia.

The bedrock of their marriage, he stresses, is their children.

'The girls give us so much joy,' he says. His voice softening, he adds: 'Sometimes, Karen and I look at each other and think to ourselves how blessed we are.'

chiahta@sph.com.sg

This article was first published in The Straits Times.