How will you choose?

I found this story on another blog (http://soclosethatibelieve.blogspot.com/). Not sure where the story originated. I very much liked it and thought others might as well... Here goes:

Michael was the kind of guy you love to hate. He is always in a good mood and always has something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!" I asked Michael once, "How do you do it?" Michael replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, Mike you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood. I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life."

"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes it is," Michael said. "Life is all about choices. when you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or a bad mood. The bottom line is this: It's your choice how you life your life."

Several years later Michael was involved in a serious accident, falling some 60 feet from a communications tower. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Michael was released from the hospital with rods in his back. I see Michael about six months after the accident.

When I ask him how he was, he replied. "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined but did ask what went through his mind as the accident took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was the well-being of my soon to be born daughter." "Then. as I lay on the ground, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or I could choose to die. I chose to live."

When they wheeled me into the ER and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'he's a dead man.' I knew I needed to take action."

"What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Michael. She asked if I was allergic to anything. "Yes", I replied. The Doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, "Gravity." Over their laughter, I told them that I am choosing to live and they should operate on me as if I am alive, not dead.