Wednesday, February 27, 2013

The World of the Walking


by Dr. Margaret Aranda 

She was a very ordinary girl, one you would never notice in a crowd. At twenty-six years old, her long brunette hair complimented her petite figure with a flair, and she smiled all the time. She woke up and no doubt, mind you. In thirty minutes flat, she would be turning the key and driving to her job.  

Yesterday, she was in The World. The World of the Walking. In The World of the Walking, everyone in this World can just get up and walk whenever they wanted to. In the little self-centered minds of most people, it was all taken for granted. The World of the Walking is where everything is. It is the standard. The World of the Walking means that you can get up and walk and perform the activities of daily living. She went about her business in The World of the Walking, making phone calls, sending texts, writing, writing, going to work, running errands, writing again, forgetting to stop for groceries. She went anywhere she wanted to, and timed everything out by looking at her watch or her cell, and simply decided where she had to be, and WaLa! she was there. The World of the Walking was a "painless" or "free" kind of Heaven that it seemed only the formerly disabled seemed to appreciate the most. Today, she has dysautonomia and can't stand up without fainting. Walking now seemed more like flying. 

Now see that there is a doctor confined to a wheelchair. He's in the World of the Walking, too. He is there on time to work every day. He has to push buttons and everything is hard, but he does it. The function level is high. So he may be mad at me, and rightfully so, but he really is in the World of the Walking, because he operates within their guidelines virtually every day. He gets out of bed. He's not plastered onto the mattress. He is only able to move from point A to point B because he's in the World of the Walking. So I learned that this is the goal: 



Stay in the World of the Walking.
But if you aren't in it, just do your best.
It's hard. But just do your best.



ORDER NOW! Dr. Aranda's books, please click here:



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Dr. Margaret Aranda's Books:

No More Tears en Espanol
Face Book Page: Stepping from the Edge
Little Missy Two-Shoes Likes to go to School
From Menarche to Menopause: A Journey through Time



To Order Dr. Aranda's books, please click here:
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Age 31: The Color Blue


Saturday, February 23, 2013

A Grateful Day

It's so ironic how one day can be so sad and then another day, the next day, something fun and exciting can happen that can bring us such joy. So it happened, and while it doesn't make the pain go away, it helps to know that God is out there.






You'd be surprised.


ORDER NOW! Dr. Aranda's books, please click here:



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Margaret Aranda's Books:

No More Tears en Espanol
Face Book Page: Stepping from the Edge
Little Missy Two-Shoes Likes to go to School
From Menarche to Menopause: A Journey through Time



To Order Dr. Aranda's books, please click here:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



************

Age 31: The Color Blue

Friday, February 15, 2013

"Someone Once Said to Me..."""

by Dr. Margaret Aranda
This is a Blog Hop Entry in a 'Wonderfully Dysfunctional' Hop Hosted by Buffi Neal.
Thank you, Buffi.

Someone once said to me that there was nothing wrong with me. All the tests were negative, everything looked great, and I had the brain of a 35 year-old! Someone once said to me that I look perfectly normal when I'm laying down, but I look a lot different when I stand up. Someone once said to me that there was nothing wrong with me; it was all in my head. Someone once said to me that in fact, this made me bipolar and I needed to be admitted to an inpatient hospital program. Someone once said to me that it was all in my head. It was PTSD. It was my hormones. It was my depression; I was just a depressed woman. Another one.

Someone once said to me that I was too young to be in the hospital, that I needed to get out. Someone once said to me that I needed to put the hospital bed up so I wasn't laying flat on it all day long. Someone once said to me that I needed to stop being the doctor and just be the patient. Someone once said to me that it was a good thing I was a doctor or I would be dead.

So I forget about what anyone tells me. I fight for myself. Against all odds, I persevere. And now, I'm on a quest to help others to get that little ounce of gumption, that little trace of fight, that little sparkle of hope and take it to the top. We aren't here because we want to be laying in a hospital bed. Believe me, I'd much rather be wearing a pair of high heeled-shoes and a skirt, walking the halls of any hospital as an anesthesiologist, intensivist, forensic medicine expert, or age management medicine doctor.

But I just have to remember one thing as I recuperate from a mini-stroke to my brainstem, oculo-vestibular dysfunction syndrome, and cervical pain and anterior scalene muscle pain because a doctor let me fall to the hard wood floor as I wobbled and lost my balance. There's nothing wrong with me that I am making up. I'm not a liar. I'm not fabricating anything. I don't need extra attention.

I want to walk my daughter to school. I want to wake up in the morning and make her breakfast. I want to make her lunches and teach her how to bake cupcakes. And I want those high-heeled shoes back.

So it doesn't matter what they say. It matters what I do. And I want to get better and I will get better. And I'll find a way to get better and no one is going to stop me. And I will rise to the top again, and God will give me the strength I need to conquer the obstacles along my arduous path. Because if it wasn't worth fighting for, it wouldn't be easy. So there must be something awfully, awfully darn good waiting for me at the end of all this.

I can't wait to find out what it is. 
And I will find it.


No More Tears: A Physician Turned Patient Inspires Recovery
by Dr. Margaret Aranda
BUY IT NOW: www.drmargaretaranda.tateauthor.com/other-works/
ISBN: 978-1-62205-838-2



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Age 31: The Color Blue