The Nurse in the Delivery Room Slapped Me... Once:
Stories and Perspectives to Help You Unlock Your Amazing Potential

- a motivational and inspirational book by D Anthony

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By The Chapters...

Book Excerpts

Enjoy the following excerpts from D Anthony’s Motivational and Inspirational Book –
The Nurse in the Delivery Room Slapped Me… Once:
Stories and Perspectives to Help You Unlock Your Amazing Potential

Inspirational Story from Chapter 3

Back To Normal

We have to get back to normal. That was the popular sentiment. From the president to the self-proclaimed grief and terrorism “experts,” everyone seemed to concur that the most effective way to respond to the horrific events of 11 September 2001 was to simply get back to normal.

On 9/11, America suffered a tragedy of few, if any, parallels. In a well-organized plot, terrorists transformed four hijacked commercial planes into fuel-filled, flying weapons of mass destruction. The aftermath—over three thousand deaths, untold injuries, and emotional impact, two 110-story World-Trade-Center towers completely demolished, massive damage to the Pentagon, mass fear, mass anger, declarations of war, a shaken economy, altered lifestyles, a shaken America.

The days after the tragedy saw astonishment give way to sorrow, then anger, then national pride, then a sense of determination. And that steadfast determination could be heard just about everywhere—via the airwaves, from neighbors, from coworkers, from strangers on the street, "We can't let this act change our lives, we have to get back to normal".
We have to get back to normal.

I still remember that Tuesday like it was yesterday. What I remember is that as the tragic events of the day unfolded, somewhere between disbelief and grief, something else happened. Our priorities changed. Work became significantly less important. People called family and friends just to check on them—to let them know they were loved. People went home that day and talked with their children. People hugged (I mean really hugged) their loved ones.

In the days immediately following, people canceled unnecessary business trips. Families spent more time at home together. Church pews were occupied like so many years ago. Firefighters and policemen were warmly recognized and hailed as heroes. Collectively, we slowed down and focused on the truly meaningful. We argued less and thought about people and their feelings more. Seemingly, we discovered just a taste of the way things used to be, what our grandparents, and their grandparents, knew as “normal.”

Maybe life's trials and tribulations are supposed to have purpose. What if these events exist primarily for the purpose of presenting us with the opportunity of choice?

In response to these events we can choose to grow—or not. We can choose to search for deeper meaning, to gain a little more perspective—or not. We can choose to take note of and appreciate the countless blessings and people that enter and touch our lives—or not. We can choose to be open to the purpose and opportunities for psychological and spiritual growth presented by events that happen in our lives—or not. We can choose to slow down, to spend more time on the truly important and purposeful things in life—or not. We can choose to be inspired, to strive to make a difference in the world around us—or not. We can choose to work less and play more—or not. We can choose to strengthen our faith and our compassion. While choosing not to forget, we can choose to channel our energy in a positive fashion. We can choose to grow.

Merely months later, it seemed our shift back was complete. And why not? Our memories tend to be of the short-term variety. Typically, we’ve been conditioned to, when we experience pain, declare that we’re past it, effectively put it out of our minds and hastily get back to normal. As a result, we forfeit our opportunity to grow.

One incredible story from September 11 is that of a young lady in her early thirties, working in the World Trade Center that fateful morning. Upon feeling the impact of the plane striking the structure, she left her desk intending to vacate the building. While making her descent down the stairwell along with others, an announcement came over the intercom. The damaged area had been secured and everyone could return to their offices. Ignoring both the announcement and countless others changing their direction, she listened only to the inner feeling telling her to get out. At about the fourth floor she felt a rumbling. (What she felt was what we could only watch in horror on live television.) The building collapsed around her, and all she could do was ride the falling mass to the ground. 

In darkness, in complete and eerie silence she found herself, buried in the debris that was, only seconds before, the world-renowned 110-story World Trade Center building, south.

With a heavy object preventing movement of her lower body and no light or sound to speak of, she could only yell for help. Those calls went unheeded. By the next afternoon she was losing hope that she would ever make it out alive. She prayed, asking God for a sign, anything that could offer her hope, anything that would give her the will to go on. 

A short while later the sound of tapping cut through the darkness. She called out, someone responded. She managed to wiggle her hand through the debris above and a firefighter grabbed it. She was the last person to be rescued from the catastrophic scene.

Watching the still-somewhat physically and emotionally shaken young woman tell her story from her hospital bed a couple months later, a tear made its way from my eye. As the young lady thanked God for blessing her through a mixture of smiles and tears, I found myself wondering to what degree her life had changed. I wondered whether she was concerned about getting back to normal. I wondered whether normal had taken on a whole new meaning in her life.

In the weeks following the tragedy, our collective anxiety and shaken sense of security caused us to pause and re-evaluate our daily activities. Our pace slowed, our priorities shifted, loved ones knew they were loved, heroes were found in our midst, the simple things in life, the relevant things like family, compassion, trust, safety, sacrifice, time, and love became a little more important. Our priorities were in order. Home, once again, became the place where our hearts were.

Unfortunately, time doesn't complement a short attention span. Since the tragedy, we've managed to regress back to our September 10 perspectives. Importance has again been superseded by urgency, home has again been superseded by work, reflection has again been superseded by trivial pursuits. We no longer speak to strangers on the street. We no longer hug (I mean really hug) loved ones. Our heroes again spend the bulk of their time in stadiums and arenas. Time is again something we find on a watch.

While most other voices have long since quieted, I continue to call for us to get back to normal. But it's not the normal of today, or of September 10, for which we should be striving—it's the normal our great-great-grandparents knew, the normal we were collectively well on our way to knowing in the latter part of September 2001.

That's the way I would prefer to live my life, and that's the kind of world I would prefer to live in. What about you?

Inspirational Poem from Chapter 4

To Grow

If flowers are to be vibrant
Feeding and watering will make them so
But another ingredient is needed
If a healthy child is to grow

It's a hug and an encouraging smile
When the lessons of life have me low
It's the push for me to expand my horizons
While trying not to let the concern show

It's discipline whenever I needed it
It's the tear-filled eyes whenever I have to go
It's the pride for all my accomplishments
Resulting in the world's most angelic glow

A lifetime of receiving these blessings
Is the way that I have truly come to know
Most importantly it is a mother's love
That causes a loving man from a healthy child,
To grow

Motivational Story from Chapter 5

A Full Swing

Have you ever felt that things simply don’t tend to work out for you? Do you sometimes feel that a good percentage of your efforts are fruitless and never even approach success? Well, not to worry. Here's an interesting little story heard along the way, which might serve to provide some perspective.

A man visits his priest and reports that he feels like a complete failure. "I don't know what it is, but it seems I fail at half of the things I do," he complains. The priest says simply, "World Book Almanac, page seventy-four." The man returns the next day, visibly upset.

"I came here at the end of my rope, looking for help and you offered me nothing."
"Didn't you locate the information to which I directed you?"
"Sure, but a baseball batting average of three hundred-something has nothing to do with me or my feelings of depression!"

“Sure it does,” responded the priest. "You see, it's simple, here's a professional player celebrated for holding the world record even though he failed two out of three times he got up to bat. If you are batting .500, all I can say to you is, keep up the great work!"

Fortunately, life isn’t intended to be comprised of an endless string of home runs. Fortunately, because can you imagine how monotonous and boring that would be? No, in this life what really qualifies us to appreciate, enjoy, get the most out of, and to be truly worthy of the good times is having effectively survived, learned, and grown from the bad ones. In other words, it is intimate knowledge of the lowest lows that makes the highest high seem awesome.

Life doesn’t end if you don’t, this time, hit a home run. However, life doesn’t truly begin until you are willing to step up to the plate. So go ahead and step up. Have the confidence that you will get the most out of the experience. Have the confidence that you will do your best. When a pitch looks good, take a full swing, and give it everything you’re worth. Be ready and willing to respond to whatever comes next. And always remember to be positive, smile often, and have a little fun with it—after all, it’s supposed to be a game.

Batter up!

Original Maxim from Chapter 6
With integrity, you are, and will always be, a winner in ways that a scoreboard can't even begin to reflect.

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