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.


_______



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!

Cherish Your Memories and Applaud the Success of Others

By Mitch Arnold • September 27, 2026
Recently, one of my friends completed a hike of the Appalachian Trail, 2198 miles of mountain paths from Georgia to Maine. He hiked almost continuously from March 31 to September 17, wearing the shoes of his son who passed away unexpectedly late last year. Not only is my friend an intensely driven and passionate individual, he is also a talented photographer who has crafted a career around his art. He used that talent to document his journey, capturing views that most eyes will never see and small wonders that most would miss. As I followed his adventures online, I felt wonder and awe, as well as gratitude that I could witness something that I will never see in person. Life is like that. Few of us will ever do everything we want to do, and we’ll watch from the sidelines as others enjoy something that we can only dream of. The trick is to do that without jealousy and envy, which are the thieves of gratitude and peace, and it’s something that I occasionally struggle with. Sometimes it seems that almost everywhere I look I am reminded of things beyond my reach. From my social media feeds to the walls in my house, reminders of dreams cut short threaten to haunt me, if I let them. With the help of some enthusiastic friends and the patience of an accommodating wife, I enjoyed several good years of pursuing my passion for hunting. Before my disability took that away from me, I was blessed to hunt in Africa and Canada, as well as many amazing places in the United States. The trophies that hang on my wall fill me with memories that I am thankful to have, but there are also blank spots that I had envisioned filling with more trophies. They remind me that I can no longer hunt like that. My social media feeds reinforce that frustration. Not only do I see friends enjoying their hunts and outfitters with whom I have hunted guiding smiling clients to their dreams, I am also a member of several online communities who share the same passion. There, I see trophy rooms that I dreamed of having and hunts I dreamed of experiencing. Where I once looked for inspiration and ideas, I now see a fantasy world. Then, there are the travel posts, like my friend’s trek on the Appalachian Trail. I see people standing on mountain tops, rafting on rivers and exploring the coastline of Greece – all things that I wish that I could do. Sadly, that world no longer exists for me, and that makes it all the more important that I be grateful for what I have and rejoice in the successes of others. I am learning to look past the blank spots on my walls and instead focus on the trophies that I am very fortunate to have. Why spend time and emotion on what I don’t have when I can appreciate all that I do have? Likewise, why waste energy on jealousy and envy when I can look with wonder and awe on the experiences of others?  No matter who you are, what you have and what you have been blessed to experience, there is someone who would like to walk in your shoes, if only occasionally, and they would be truly puzzled if you weren’t filled with gratitude. Just as important, experience as much of this life as you possibly can and share your experiences with others. Lastly, don’t torment yourself by worrying about things beyond your reach. Be thankful and rejoice in your life and the lives around you.

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.