What if…

 

What if I forget the words when I stand up there? What if I go completely blank? What if I totally suck? What if I look or sound stupid?  What if they hate me? What if I’m not pretty enough? Cool enough? Smart enough? Qualified enough? Experienced enough? Talented enough? Thin enough? What if they see through my act? What if they discover what I’m really like? What if they find out about my issues? Or my history? What if the course is too difficult for me? What if I do what Craig suggests and it doesn’t work? Or what if it does work and then I lose motivation and focus? Surely I’m too old to start something new anyway? Or too inexperienced to establish my own business? Perhaps I’m past learning new things and developing new skills? Surely I won’t fit in, will I? What if I get all excited like I always do and then fail again? What if I disappoint people again? Hmm, perhaps I need a little more time to plan and think about this.

Which is code for “I’m too scared to do anything, so I’ll do nothing”.

Again.

Self doubt it’s a disease that doesn’t discriminate. It affects our mind, our emotions and even our physiology. It’s multi-dimensional and if you let it, it will destroy your opportunities, waste your potential, ruin your relationships, infect your thinking, crush your hope and at its worst, ruin your life. It’s not concerned with race, religion, age, skin colour, past achievements, social standing, sex, talent, IQ or bank balance and it knows where you live.

For many of us, self doubt comes knocking on our door every day. Sometimes it will give an apologetic, sorry-to-bother-you kind of tap, and on other occasions it will almost smash the door down with it’s incessant and violent banging. More often than not, it will arrive disguised as something much more noble like concern, logic or reason but in reality, it’s none of those things. It’s just fear in a different outfit. Self-doubt with a little make-up and a pretty dress. Don’t be fooled, she’s a bitch and despite the charade, she doesn’t care about you at all.

That’s all self doubt is by the way, one of the many faces of fear. Fear of failure, fear of rejection, fear of public humiliation, fear of getting uncomfortable, fear of the unknown, fear of poverty, fear of isolation and even fear of success. Like all forms of fear, self-doubt is essentially self-created and perpetuated because it can only exist in our head. In order for it to survive, we must give it a place to live. And we do.

In the pursuit of our best life, our challenge is not to overcome self-doubt but rather, to manage it. To recognise it for what it is (a form of fear), to feel it, acknowledge it and then do what we need to do (to reach our goals), DESPITE it.

“Recognising, feeling and acknowledging self-doubt, does not mean being controlled or determined by it.”

Of course, over time we will find a way to turn down the volume (of the banging on the door), but a life totally devoid of self-doubt is an unrealistic goal. People who succeed (no matter what the endeavour) invariably find a way to do what they need to do, despite their self-doubt. They are aware of it and they are challenged by it, but they are not controlled or determined by it. Self doubt is universal and it is an unavoidable part of the human experience. For life. None of us are exempt. If you doubt yourself often, don’t feel weak or flawed, feel human. Feel alive. Feel normal. If self-doubt is a sign of weakness then I’m a big pussy.

The questions we should ask ourselves in relation to this chat are not:

“Do I ever experience self-doubt?”

But rather:

1. “What impact do I allow self-doubt to have on my decisions, behaviours and results?”

and…

2. “Do I manage it, or does it manage me?”

If you came here today looking for a solution, then walk to the bathroom and look in the mirror there’s your solution. Even if you don’t know it or feel like it, let me tell you that no book, blog, idea, program, CD, DVD or guru will change you. No, that’s your job. Those resources (that’s all they are) can stimulate, inspire, educate, challenge, provoke and encourage you, but only you can change your current reality and only you can build your best life. That’s why this my write up is not a solution but rather a humble resource.

Do what you need to and stop looking for the magic pill.

My breast tumours

By LUKE TEOH (TheStar)

A man recalls his traumatic experience of having growths in both breasts.

I RETURNED home from an extremely cold, wintry holiday in Melbourne in July. A few days later, I had some pain on my right breast. I thought nothing of it as I felt the pain might have been brought on due to a change of weather from the extreme cold in Melbourne to the stifling heat back home.

However, the pain persisted for a week, so I went to the doctor’s. The GP examined my breast and told me not to worry about it. He told me that a course of antibiotics would clear it off.

After the antibiotics had run its course, there was still the persistent, gnawing pain, but I continued to think nothing of it as it was bearable and I felt fine. I was able to continue playing tennis.

However, one evening when I web-searched the Internet for “pain in the breast of men”, two words, “cancer” and “carcinoma” came popping up frequently in my search. The words really struck fear in me. That really got me petrified and worried. I had a terrible, restless night.

Before Teoh underwent the operation.

The next day, I could not wait to go to another doctor where I knew the GP had a scanner. When he scanned my right breast, he said that there was a small growth in it. He further said that he did not like the look of the growth as it had cilia-like protuberances. He advised me that I should have a biopsy done by a surgeon. I immediately agreed to his advice as the terrifying words “cancer” and “carcinoma” popped in my mind, again.

The doctor measured the size of the mysterious growth on the monitor and then had the picture printed out. He then wrote out the referral letter to a surgeon and attached the picture on it.

I left the doctor in a state of shock. How could it happen to me? A man, with the possibility of having breast cancer? I imagined I had it already and felt like a dead man walking!

On reaching home, however, I began to go into a state of denial. I imagined that the cyst had shrunk and the pain was subsiding. I kept postponing going to the surgeon’s for the next three weeks. I was still able to play tennis but with a heavy load on my mind.

A day after the operation.

My moods began to fluctuate. One moment, I felt terrible, and the next, all right. One of my darkest moments occured when I searched the web for “breast cancer in men”. I came across this sentence: “Men usually ignore the early signs of breast cancer and leave it too late before seeking medical treatment”, which immediately got me scooting to the surgeon’s.

After waiting for some time with much trepidation at the surgeon’s, as there were a lot of patients, it was finally my turn to be seen by the specialist. He examined and then scanned my right breast.

Turning to me, he said, “I’d be worried if the growth is seen in a woman,” which gave me a bit of hope and I felt a tinge of relief.

He continued: “We better check the left breast, too.”

After doing the examination and scanning of the left breast, he said “There’ a smaller growth here. We’ll do a small-needle biopsy on the left breast and a large-needle one on the right. Could you wait outside while we prepare everything in the treatment room?”

Surprisingly, I was quite calm while I waited for the biopsies to be done, as the surgeon had given me the confidence that he knew what he was doing compared to the first GP I had consulted.

The procedure to extract a few pieces of the growth from my right breast was extremely painful. I had to grit my teeth and clench my hands tightly to the sides of the operating table to withstand the excruciating pain as the anaesthetic was being injected into my breast through the nipple each time. With tears in my eyes, I forced myself to see the liquid slowly spreading into the tumour on the monitor. Then the surgeon told me to turn away from the monitor as he did the actual apposition of the bits of the tumour for biopsy.

Everything was repeated with the left breast, too.

I was told to return for the result of the biopsies in five days. I came away from the surgeon’s feeling quite relaxed as the surgeon had a fantastic, reassuring bedside manner.

As I was being driven to the clinic on the appointed day for the result of the biopsies, I was extremely quiet as I felt I was leaving on a hearse for my funeral. When it was my turn to see the specialist at the surgeon’s, my walk into the consultation room felt like the steps of a condemned man walking to his execution.

A week after the operation.

I broke out in a cold sweat as I sat by the side of, and, then facing the surgeon. When he uttered the magical words, “Benign, non-maglignant”, I could feel relief and happiness instantly oozing through every part of my body and spontaneously, I could not help but grasp his left hand for bringing me the great, comforting news.

He then told me that the growths needed to be taken out. I readily agreed and I was scheduled to be operated on under general anaesthetics at a private hospital in a week’s time. I came from the surgeon’s feeling like a man being given a new lease of life. I felt like having been resurrected, rescued from sure-death.

A week later, I underwent the operation. I had a subcutaneous mastectomy done on me and I was discharged from the private hospital after a day-stay.

I received the histology report a few days’ later. It says: Trucut right benign. No other pathology or evidence of malignancy is seen. Bilateral gynaecomastia.

Well, it turned out that the first GP that I had consulted, was correct after all. He had said that there was nothing to be worried about.

However, from the onset of the problem, I was worried sick. I suffered bouts of depression and sudden short spells of weeping when I was alone. I told no one about the problem. Neither my wife nor my children knew anything about it at the beginning. I did not wish them to suffer my pain as my wife had first endured the suffering and eventual death of her mother from breast cancer and then later saw her step-mother suffering the same fate, too. I decided to tell my loved ones only after the result of the biopsies was known.

However, I wrote about it, but in the third person, and emailed to my email groups. I found that by doing it this way – telling the whole world in cyberspace – anonymously in the third person – had been rather cathartic to me. I was comforted when a few members of my e-groups wrote in to comfort or offer prayers for “my friend” who was suffering pain.

After removal of the bandages

Unfortunately, one of my e-group members from Canada told my elder daughter about my impending operation. She immediately phoned frantically home but I was out. She got her mother, instead, who knew practically nothing about it as I had decided earlier only to tell her everything only after the operation.

I got a real shelling from my wife for keeping quiet when I returned home. I immediately pacified and reassurred her. I told her to keep mum about it to her brother and her younger sister as I would wait two days before the operation to tell them about it. I did not want them to worry and come rushing home.

I am relieved and thank the Lord for helping me survive this terrible problem. I was most fortunate to have found a great surgeon who gave me peace of mind while I was being treated. I am thankful to my email friends who knew about “my friend’s problem” for their prayers and good wishes for a speedy recovery.

I feel blessed to have a strong, supportive wife and three wonderful, filial children. I am humbled by the traumatic experience and am now able to look at life with a better and clearer perspective.

The experience has made me stronger and more caring.

I was totally and completely traumatised by the experience. I felt stigmatised as I imagined I was a possible sufferer of an ailment mostly suffered by women. The stigma of having breast cancer haunted me for more than two months.

I can now tell the whole world as I am now alright.

My breast tumours

My breast tumours

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