This morning, Jack told me he couldn't hear and that his ear hurt. I looked at and felt his left ear area and saw redness and other signs of infection. So I called his doctor and got the first available appointment which was in the afternoon.
Meanwhile, this little booger chowed down on a Nutella sandwich
I cleaned him and was cleaning the kitchen when I found him on the dining table enjoying scraps from Jack's sandwich and my granola.
The boy loves food. A lot. Except sushi... He did not enjoy that for supper tonight.
Back to Jack. We got to the doctor's office. We saw a different doctor whom all three of us (the kids and myself) loved. She was great. She said his left ear drum was perforated and healing from an infection, and she sweetly but firmly told Jack to not put anything in his ear (she gave a laundry list of creative options for him to ponder).
Then she looked at his throat and said his tonsils look chronically swollen and asked if he ever had sleep disturbances. Psshh. Uh, yes ma'am. Every night. Sounds like he's snoring and catching his breath, wakes up at 5:00, moody during the day because he's so tired. She said he has obstructive sleep apnea and should have his tonsils removed, that she's seen countless times the sleep patterns dramatically improve because the child can breathe and is no longer afraid to sleep and is well-rested during the day. Sign us up. She explained to Jack that he would meet a different doctor who would let him take a nap and take the big knots out of his throat so he can take big breaths while he sleeps, that it would burn and scratch at first but feel much better with a Popsicle and ice cream. Score. Thank you, new doctor.
We got in the car, and, no kidding, he said, "I really like doctor anonymous. Can we go see her again?" The whole way there he had cried because he didn't want to go. If you ever want the true whereabouts, appearance, smell, or feeling of a person, place, or thing, just put a kid in front of it for two seconds, and you'll get an earful. I love and hate that. I love when I'm told I look pretty just because I put a skirt on. On the other hand, having my child tell the hostess of brunch that he doesn't like her food is not cool.
Travis tried to call ENT at Lurie Children's, but they were already closed for the day. He will call first thing tomorrow. We want our child to sleep without suffocating intermittently.
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I had several neat God-happenings again today, and I'm so thankful for His continued reminder to me that He is right here, hating that this pain is so real and wanting to show His very big, very deep and wide and long and high, never-ending, never-wounding love. His only directed wound was on His own Son, for me. All other wounds are the results of one of two things: the father of lies, Satan himself, or the fall of man, sin itself. God the Father wants only to reconcile us to Himself. This pain is actually a lot more about how much I love my Dad, my Mama Joyce, and Mr. Jeff than how much I lost. I'm so grateful for them. It's sort of a painful awareness of how truly blessed I am to have loved so deeply and reaped such beautiful moments in the midst of what Satan intended as terror. I am painfully thankful for the blessings. I love them so much it hurts. I love Jesus so much it hurts. How much more did the Father hurt for me, for you? He sent His greatest love to rescue the ones who wandered, betrayed, denied, and ignored. How deep the Father's love for us. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. That's what hurts... He loves us so much it hurts.
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