My oldest daughter has a horrible ear infection that's so bad that the doctor actually looks inside her ear and says, "This is just a mess." We've already had two ear tube surgeries and countless rounds of antibiotics for infections.
What's so hard is the sheer pain of it. The doctor asks where my daughter was on the 1-10 pain scale, and she bravely reports, "An 8, except sometimes (meaning when she's asleep)."
We are driving away from the pharmacy with two different medications for her (and also the ear drops for after swimming now that the tubes fell out). She can't swim all week, and she'll have ear drops and oral antibiotics. It's all a waiting game for the ear to heal. She's counting the days until the pain recedes and until she can swim again.
Out of the blue, she calls out from the back seat: "Mom, did you know if the earth went any faster around the sun, we wouldn't get to have so many days? The year would be shorter. That wouldn't be good. We'd miss stuff."
She's applying astrophysics to the time it will take for her ear to heal. In her mind, she concludes that speeding things up actually results in loss for her. Just this morning, I read about time and patience. I have trouble waiting, even for a day, for things I hope for.
Do I really want to rush the cosmic process? Whatever the speed of change in my life, it seems wise to fully live out the day and not wish so much for it all to be over--even if it's uncomfortable. Wishing for tomorrow means I have one less day.
Even in pain, she doesn't want to wish away the day because of what she'll lose. It's ear infection flair!
(photo courtesy of Bruce Sterling )