Monday Morning Musings from the Emergency Room

Mitch Arnold • September 25, 2023

It was a Monday morning, and though I wasn’t thinking about it, I probably needed the attitude adjustment that was about to come. Just an hour into my work week, I stood up from my desk and took a few steps to pour myself some water from the sink, but I never made it to the sink. Instead, I tripped and fell flat on my face, literally. The blood falling in large drops on the floor told me that this wasn’t going to be an average Monday.


Like many people, perhaps even you, my attitude is lackluster on Monday mornings. Enjoying time with family and friends, and the absence of structure, I’m much happier on the weekends than when facing the structure and pressures of the work week. That, plus the realization that I’m as far away from the weekend as I can get, make Monday mornings a struggle. On this particular Monday morning, a few weeks ago, the struggle was intensified.


Fortunately, I work from home, and my wife was home with me, though she was outside tending to her garden. It was my four-year-old granddaughter who heard the commotion and came to check on me. She’s a sharp little girl, and I’m thankful for that, because she was able to go outside and get Lynda. I’m also thankful that my wife is a physician assistant who sees lacerations often during her work at a primary clinic. Despite my protests and pleas that she pop some staples in my head, like she’s done before, she insisted that I go to the emergency room to get fixed up in a sterile environment. It’s a Monday morning, she said, they shouldn’t be busy.

They were VERY busy. Not only was the waiting room full, there were three ambulances in the bay, presumably carrying patients with larger concerns than the large vertical gash I sported on my forehead, so I settled into one of the few empty seats, and began my wait. At my urging, Lynda and Presley left to run some errands. Not only do I struggle with Monday mornings, patience while waiting is also a weakness; however, I felt a calmness that day.


I didn’t have a phone or TV to entertain me, and the sparse newspaper that I bled all over didn’t take me long to read, so I was left with my thoughts and observations. All around me were people awaiting treatment and their loved ones who were trying to comfort them. Two young families with fathers who looked absolutely miserable were among the crowd. One carried a plastic pitcher as a safety net, in case he couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time to vomit. The other seemed to be suffering from a migraine or some other intense head pain. Both wives rubbed their husbands’ backs and encouraged them.


I didn’t find comfort seeing strangers suffering, but I found peace in the love and faith that filled the waiting room, and I was reminded that I’m not the only one with health struggles. Because I work from home, I often don’t see anyone but my family and the gym crowd during the week, and I rarely see anyone with a worse physical handicap than I have. Sitting in that waiting room, I began to realize that I had inadvertently became kind of smug in my ability to handle my daily struggles.


Struggle is universal. We’re all going to face it, if we haven’t already, and it’s often unpleasant. However, with the right attitude, we can put struggle in its proper place – as a part of life, but not a limiter of life. Ironically, my trip to the emergency room actually improved my attitude that Monday morning. It realigned my perspective and made me realize that my normal Monday morning self-pity was unnecessarily limiting my appreciation of the opportunities that possibly awaited me in the new week.


If you’re struggling today or any day, take a few minutes to reflect in gratitude and to remind yourself that you’re not alone, but that it’s up to you to find the right attitude to put the struggles behind you.


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For those keeping score, this is my second trip to the emergency room to get my head stitched up. One more, and the next one’s free! With the 26 stitches I got that day, plus multiple staples Lynda has added at home, my head is starting to look like a jigsaw puzzle, but I keep plugging along. Have a great day!

But, Could It Be Better?

By Mitch Arnold • July 26, 2026
When facing challenging situations, my go-to response is often “it could be worse.” It’s raining: it could be worse. We could be scooping this stuff. It’s hot outside: it could be worse. At least we have air conditioning. The “it could be worse” response is a simple and common way of putting things into perspective, summoning at least a modicum of gratitude and showing the absurdity of petty complaining. Unfortunately, it can also blind us to the potential of “it could be better.” I say it aloud frequently when I am with people, but I also mutter “it could be worse,” to myself when I am alone and struggling with my mobility. That simple phrase has brought me peace and acceptance, as I have experienced progressive physical challenges throughout most of my entire adult life. While things could definitely be worse, and I’m right to summon gratitude when negativity creeps in, I was recently reminded that sometimes things could be better, and if that’s possible, I should do everything I can to make them better. For more than 40 years, I have lifted weights five to six times per week, and that has allowed me to maintain a fairly active lifestyle, but lifting alone isn’t cutting it anymore. Despite frequent exercise, I have struggled to get around more than usual for the past year or so, and that has made my world even smaller. Despite this, I persisted with a positive attitude and told myself, “it could be worse.” Not until the discomfort and limitations began to prevent me from doing things I should be doing, like meeting friends for breakfast, did I consider the possibility that things could be better. Making sure that I realized this was my wife Lynda who had been on me to try physical therapy, since my primary physician wrote a prescription for it a year and a half ago. I resisted because, though I am positive about almost everything else, I was pessimistic about what modern medicine could do for me. I had done physical therapy as a child, and have undergone several medical procedures that did little to improve my condition and seemed to provide only frustration. How was this going to be different? But it was. After only two sessions and a daily regimen of stretching and purposeful movement over the past four weeks, plus the strength training, I have already improved my mobility. Stairs are easier and walking, less painful and troublesome. That has greatly helped my energy level, focus and confidence. Even when I fell and sprained my ankle a couple of days ago, the recovery was easier. While things could definitely be better, they could also be much worse, as they were for me a month or so ago. Had I not relented and at least considered the possibility that things could be better, I would have continued being unnecessarily limited. Are you unnecessarily limited? If you are going through a difficult period in your life – maybe your job or a relationship isn’t as fulfilling as it once was – consider the possibility that things could be better. Always lean into gratitude for what you have, but don’t let resignation obscure options for improvement.

Don’t Skimp on Experience

By Mitch Arnold • May 25, 2026
Recently, as occasionally happens when I watch the golfers on the course behind my home, I caught myself thinking about what it would be like to be out there again. Only this time, I also thought about the cost of golf, and began calculating how much I’ve saved by not golfing over the past 20-some years. Of course, I would rather golf than have the money I saved by not golfing, but due to a physical disability that increasingly limits my life, that isn’t an option. Thus, instead of fretting about something I can’t change, I comforted myself with math and tested my mastery of the positive explanatory style . With green fees, cart and the obligatory cold beverages, I estimated that each round would have cost me around $75. If I got out twice per month over five months of relatively nice Nebraska weather, I would golf approximately ten rounds per year, for a cost of $750. Multiply that by 20 years, and I’ve saved $15,000 or the cost of a pretty nice motorcycle. I used to ride motorcycles too, but haven’t been able to do that in more than 30 years. If I were still riding motorcycles, I figure that I would have probably had at least two during that time. Factoring in taxes, insurance and maintenance, I estimate that I’ve saved nearly $50,000 by not riding motorcycles for the past three decades. I also haven’t used a comb or paid for a haircut in nearly 30 years. However, unlike golf and motorcycles, that has nothing to do with my disability and everything to do with my genetics. Still, by avoiding monthly haircuts at $20 a pop, I’ve been able to save over $7000. I share this exercise with you not to try to talk you out of spending money on the things that bring you happiness, quite the opposite actually. You should absolutely do the things you love while you still can. In almost all cases, the money you spend on experiences is an investment in your life, and you owe it to yourself to get the most out of life that you can. Most of us, at some point in our lives, will lose the ability to do the things that once brought us happiness, and all that we will have left will be the memories. When that happens, we should cherish the memories of all that we have experienced, and look for other outlets to enhance our lives. Travel now fills the gaps once occupied by golf and motorcycles. With the help of my wife and some incredibly supportive friends, I’ve been able to visit some remarkable places like Charleston and Nashville, and enjoy unforgettable experiences, like a Green Bay Packers football game and the NCAA Final Four. Admittedly, travel gets a little more difficult each year, but that only increases my urgency to do more of it and enhances my gratitude of what I can still do, because I know that, some day, if I live long enough, I’ll be calculating the money I’m saving by not travelling. Television writer and producer Taylor Sheridan agrees, as you can see in this clip from the Paramount+ series, The Madison. https://www.youtube.com/shorts/tydIBHknM_s Don’t wait until everything is in order to invest in experiences. Accept the golf invitation. Buy the motorcycle. Take the trip. Prioritize making memories while you still can, because some day, those memories are going to be more valuable than whatever you have in the bank.