Doctor Deal-Good

My mom has tipped me off to the future of medical care in Backroads. She ran into her doctor in Aldi's.

Aldi's is Mom's Save A Lot. She lives closer to Aldi's than I do. At least once a week she makes a trip over there to shop for staples, and products they carry, like chicken in a box, that she really likes. There are bargains to be had that let her thumb her nose at Walmart.

Let's also establish that Mom's doctor is my doctor. He's a good guy who will bend over backwards to put you at ease, and push tests ahead so you don't spend needless weeks worrying about results. At the same time, he's a realist. He does not sugar-coat possible outcomes. I even caught him with a tear in his eye when he discussed my impending thyroid surgery a couple of years back. He plays poker every week with my mom's Czechoslovakian neighbor. Doc has a big fancy doctor house. Not that I've been there. But at an appointment shortly after one of Backroads's famous ice storms, he talked about his built-in generator that starts when the power goes off. His wife used to work in the office with him as a nurse practitioner, but then decided to stay home and devote more time to the kids. So, in my mind, they're living the idyllic doctor-family lifestyle.

Mom said this is not the first time she's seen him in Aldi's recently. Is this what it's come to, people? Doctors have to buy their groceries at Aldi's? Have to count pennies? Have to use their pampered surgeon hands to bag their own store-brand canned peas? Doc is not a house-call, horse-and-carriage, country doctor who takes a basket of eggs in exchange for lancing a boil. He works in one of the two main hospitals in the area, in a doctors' clinic, fourth floor, and has surgical privileges. He's no Dr. Dave Malucci character who earned his medical degree in Grenada. He's a former Army doctor. I've seen his diploma and awards hanging on the exam room walls.

Mom says she hates to run into Doc at Aldi's. Not because she's worried that he might catch her putting snack cakes into her cart. But because she hasn't fixed herself up. You know how septuagenarians are about prepping for a doctor's visit. She had not rolled her hair, and was wearing jeans and an old-lady t-shirt. She said Doc was wearing his hat. It's what Genius would call a "Newsboys" hat. Mom said, "I don't know if he's trying not to be recognized, or if he just likes that hat. He always has it on when I see him out. His wife did not look very good. You know, she used to really keep herself up when she worked in his office. I ran into them in the aisle, and he spoke to me, and later they got in line behind me at the checkout, and he said, 'I wonder if we can predict how much we'll spend?' I told him, 'I think I've got less than $20 worth here.' But he never told me his amount."

Yes, some people might find it disturbing that their doctor shops at Aldi's. Like it's akin to living in a van down by the river. Like doctoring is now a thankless job that does not pay one enough to shop at Walmart like normal people. To me, that's not the most shocking part.

What kind of man does the grocery shopping with his wife? That does not happen much here in Backroads. Like skinning and butchering the animals taken in an Inuit hunt, grocery shopping here in Backroads is women's work.

Surely Doc could find something better to do on his day off.