A moment of levity... sort-of

So I am a sucker for punishment.  In the light of the approaching storm, I decided to call my hoarding mother to attempt some sort of safety planning with her.  Attempt is the key word.  

I did not get a word in edgewise, and surprisingly enough, after the Derecho that hit in late June (see corresponding blog) you would think she would be on red alert.  Not-so-much.

Her topic today was her latest visit to a doctor.  She would not be steered in any sort of other direction.  This doctor graduated high school with me over 25 years ago, and my mother is obsessed with figuring out:

1. Where she lives, and what type of house... Although she knows she is partnered, apparently in her mind gay=living at home.  WTH?
2. How much the vehicles she sees her drive cost.  A MB wagon, a 4 wheel drive SUV, and pick up truck.  "She has more cars than a dealership!" 
3. Obsessing on the amount of patients she has, what the EOB says the visit is paid, and so she figures out her income from there... with no understanding that A- she is partnered to a very successful woman herself B- she got her medical degree later in life and is really just getting started and C- that a medical practice on your own like that is extremely expensive in the terms of overhead, malpractice and liability insurance, etc.
4. The doctor's weight, why she dresses the way she does, and the fact that she is a lesbian. 

For mother, it is as if it rains cash on this doctor.  

In the midst of this one-sided oration... she says loudly and grandly, "I think you should have become [this type of doctor] instead of what you are doing. Think of all the money you could have made and would be making!"  She then clucks her tongue to herself...

Because money is everything apparently.  It trumps happiness, real relationships and connecting with people, and loving what I do.

I quickly advised her, "Because to me, that is one of the worst f*$%ing job in the world, that is why I did not go into med school after taking (and doing very, very well on) the MCAT exam.  I realized at that point in my life that is precisely what I did NOT want to do... it is what I had been almost programmed to do."

Dead silence for a bit... and finally, a weak and horrified sounding "Oh".  

Yeah.  'Oh'.  The 'Oh' was not that I pushed back or cursed in doing so, the 'Oh' was my priorities are clearly so screwed up that I would pick social services over a profession that could make a lot of money and buy a lot of THINGS.

Two seconds later... "So how much money DO you think she makes?"

Wait.  What?  OH DEAR GOD!

I got off the phone without discussing the impending storm.  Because this doctor's income, assets, and my poor vocational decisions are obviously so much more imminent...

Stay safe everyone.