Three Stages of Life

As I was sitting in the patients' waiting room the other day, it occurred to me that “patient” is a silly name for we who sit and wait … and wait. Yes, the “waiting” part of “waiting room” is accurate, it’s that “patient” part I don’t get. I was far from being “patient.”

As I thought a bit more as I waited, I realized all this hokey about all the stages of life – baby, toddler, teen, young adult, mature – can be squashed into just three stages.

Early Stage – Impatience: Birth to about age four, it’s all “me, me, me.” Feed me, change me, entertain me – NOW! Give me that NOW! Take me there NOW! Let me out of this basket NOW! At about age four to five serious interaction with other children and adults begins.

Middle Stage – Patience: From about age four to about age 65, we realize we must “behave” and "have patience" to be fed, clothed and entertained. We have to be "patient" and smile and do all kinds of stuff we don’t want to do, like go to school and work and get vacinated. As we mature, we have to be “patient” with family, coworkers, impatient children, and stand in line, to survive. If we are not “patient” we will have to live in a jail or in a cave and eat slimy things crawling up the walls. Or worse, live with other impatient people who nag us everyday to “get a life.”

Late Stage – Adult Onset Impatience: This is the most fun time because we can blame our impatience on 1. age, 2. those new meds, 3. the weather (too hot, too cold, too wet, too dry, the tornado, the hurricane, etc.), 4. underpants too tight, 5. the broccoli gives me gas, 6. Didn’t sleep a wink last night, 7. Cat or dog. 8, The TV, 9. The price of groceries these days, or 10. Loosing our car keys in the house.

This A.O.I. can definitely work in our favor. “Don’t bother Grampa while he’s sleeping in his chair. He didn’t sleep a wink last night.” “No, honey, Gramma does not want to hold that stinky, wet, muddy puppy. Give it to your Mommy. She likes puppies.” “Go where? In this weather?” “Of course I can have a beer. It’s the new meds that are the problem.” “Turn down that damn noise or I’ll put my foot through the screen.” “Well, if I knew where I lost it, I would go get it now, wouldn’t I!”

Now you can tell anyone who annoys you by telling you how impatient you are that they will just have to bear with you. You’ve been diagnosed with A.O.I. and it’s incurable. And you want a sandwich – with a beer – NOW!

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