August

The heat came on in the house this morning.
It’s August 27th.

August is an interesting month in southern New England.
It can have some of the hottest, most humid weather you can imagine.
The “Dog Days of August.”
And then, a week or two later, it can drop into the 50s at night.

The days start shortening, the shadows become longer.
Everyone rushes to get their school shopping done, and to squeeze in one more beach day.

In some ways, it’s a microcosm of life.
Time rolls on, often while we’re not paying attention.

Time is funny like that.
It’s not constant, it bends.
When we’re waiting for a day,  like summer vacation or Christmas or the end of a school day as a child, it can move so, so slowly.
And then, when in the mist of that vacation, or holiday, or time off, it goes so quickly.

I can remember more than once, working at the bedside, on an interesting case, being so focused on titrating IV medications and monitoring breathing and vital signs, that suddenly, I would realize how hungry I was, or how I really needed a restroom break, and then realize that hours had passed.
Hours that had felt like minutes.

The first time I sat and had an in depth conversation with my current work partner, I suddenly realized it was getting dark outside.  We had been talking for four hours.
It had felt like minutes.

What does all this mean?
I don’t know.
Maybe that time is precious. Don’t waste it.
Maybe that time is eternal.  Don’t worry about it.
I don’t know.

I just know that August is an interesting month.