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A Private Room, Please
When I reflect on the word sickness, I feel that I’ve hardly ever been truly sick. But as I think back, I can see that over the last ten years, I seem to have made up for that. I’ve had a couple of serious illnesses, but I just never chose to consider them life-altering. As a child, I had the usual lineup: chicken pox, measles, mumps, colds, the flu, all those “lovely” little sicknesses that keep life interesting. I especially remember one day in kindergarten, coming home to find a big red sign posted on our front door. It announced that someone inside had a contagious illness and warned others to stay away. At the time, this was a common practice, though not long afterward, that way of announcing illness disappeared.
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Enthusiasm Makes the Sale
Yesterday, my orthopedic surgeon sold me on something I swore I’d never buy: two new shoulders. And he did it with nothing more than pure, unfiltered enthusiasm.Years ago, when I was trained as a sales trainer, I learned that 85% of any sale comes down to enthusiasm. The same words spoken in a monotone simply won’t get the same results. Yesterday, in that exam room, I got a masterclass in just how true that is.
Several years ago, I began having severe pain in both shoulders. An MRI revealed that my rotator cuffs were irreparably torn. My doctor suggested injections to help manage the pain. The first two rounds, spaced 90 days apart, worked well. But when I went for the third injection, nothing. No relief at all.