Don’t Underestimate the Size of Your Enemy

Don’t Underestimate the Size of Your Enemy

Well, I was almost done with my two-day marathon of doctor appointments and tests at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida. I had one more text/exam to do and then a meeting with the doctor in a few hours to get a reading of all the tests and hopefully get a game plan to move forward. Although not comfortable, all the tests had gone well and on time. The efficiency of this place is incredible. I wish we could get the Mayo Clinic to set up a national standard to be followed in all health care. And if the Mayo Clinic is too busy to do that then maybe we can get the guys who developed Chick-Fil-A’s drive through to do it. They also do a great job and it would be nice to hear someone say, “It’s my pleasure” every time they put in or pulled out a catheter. It would definitely make me feel better knowing that they were enjoying their job.

This next test I was having done was the only new one. I never had it done before because all the other tests came back negative and did not support doing this one. So, I don’t know if they are more detailed or if they just enjoy watching grown men feel uncomfortable and maybe even cry a little bit. They had listed on my itinerary that they were going to do a sampling of my prostate to rule out a few more types of cancer. I had already been checked from the top of my head to the middle of my chest for cancer during my neck surgeries and I knew I was “all clear” in that region of my body. Now they were going to check my prostate, bladder, and a few other organs all crammed up in that area of my body. The good news is that I would know that my body was virtually cancer free after this test. The bad news is I had to take this test to find out.

This is the test they told me I could take a Valium for, but if I did, I needed a driver to take me home, and I would not be allowed to drive by myself for 24 hours. Well, that seemed a little excessive so I asked around and several guys who took the Valium said the test wasn’t that bad. So I decided not to take it so I could just drive myself home and not make someone have to take this trip with me. Thinking back on this, I had some pretty flawed logic. I probably should have asked people who DID NOT take Valium to see how they felt after. Well, the choice had been made and now it was time for the test.

They told me it only takes 15-20 minutes, so I figured it couldn’t be that bad. You go to a room and get a fancy gown and lay down on your side with your knees pulled up into your stomach. The nurse preps you and gives you the details of what is getting ready to happen next. Now before I get to that part, I need to let you know that I had been praying between my last test a few hours ago and this one. I had told God that I would just love to have a nurse who was average looking. Great in their skills but average in their looks. I know this may sound weird but after having the larger than life African American woman who had a personality like Big Mama (watch the movie) and then the two hot blondes who in my mind were still twins. (You will not read about this in my blog, but it will be two chapters when this is transformed into a book.) I just wanted a normal looking person. I knew God was probably pretty busy that day, but I thought it was worth a try to ask Him for the small things that would bring me a little comfort in a time of need. God must have had a little extra time because He gave me a very average looking nurse. God also must have a great sense of humor because His name was Jose. Really thought God knew I would prefer a female given the nature of these exams, but I did not specify that in my prayers, so I guess I left that one open for interpretation. Well played, God! Well played!

So here Jose and I are getting to know each other pretty intimately as I lay on my side, with my knees pulled into my stomach, and the back flap of my gown out leaving my buttocks fully exposed. Why the hell did I not take that Valium? I needed it just to relax while I was waiting on the doctor, not for the actual test! Jose was getting a small table ready while he explained the procedure to me. I really wish he would not have multi-tasked because I was watching what type of items he was laying on the table that I assumed would be used to enter my rectum (and there were a whole lot more tools than what I felt the size of my rectum was). I was watching that a whole lot more than I was listening to his voice (in fact, he sounded a little like Charlie Brown’s teacher). However, after a few follow up questions, I got the overall idea of how they were going to induce a full dose of trauma into my life. Why the hell did I not take that Valium?

“So, the doctor will be here in about 15 minutes and will come in and “gently” slide his finger into your anus to be sure everything feels okay and to distribute this lubrication and then he will insert this small tube into your rectum.” Gently is a good choice of an adverb, but could you clarify that a little more? “There is a camera in the tube so that he gets it in the right position. When he does, he has a little trigger (like on a gun) that he will push down on and it will make a clicking sound, so don’t flinch. It will feel like a shot of air going up in your butt with a little pressure.” (Great! Not that again!). “This will be the doctor taking a flesh sample from your prostate.” (It keeps getting better and better!) “He will need 12 of these for a good sampling.” (At least it’s not just one or two—that would be too easy and make this feel like a waste of time.) “After that he will slide it out and you are done.” (Just like that.) Oh good… that’s all? I really thought it might be invasive and cause some type of nervousness, PTSD, or something, but since he is just sticking a “flesh grabbing gun” up my butt and pulling the trigger 12 times (during which I am not allowed to move), we should be great! Thanks Jose! You have given me peace in the midst of my pain! So I am supposed to just lay here with my butt laying out for 15 minutes and dream of show time?

Seriously! Why do they not put you to sleep for this and then when you wake up just lie to you about what happened? “I am sorry, sir, you were abducted by aliens in a UFO. We believe it involved an anal probe, but we rescued you and you are safe now! You may be sore for a couple days and exhibit some light bleeding when you poop for a week or so, but other than that you are great.” That would have made me happy! But this? I don’t think so! Now I am having flashbacks to the enema and hoping I really did do it right, otherwise this could get messy!

So Jose and I were making small talk for about 15 minutes until the doctor came in. It’s weird that I can sit and talk like nothing is going on, but at the same time be praying for Jesus to come back NOW and think about what is getting ready to happen if He doesn’t. Jose was a great guy who had been working in this part of the clinic doing this job for the past five years. I had to ask him the logical question that was on my mind. WHY? Why would you want to make your fellow brothers go through this shame and pain? Do you have father issues? I came to find out most nurses did not enjoy doing this exam (shocker—neither to the patients) and his father had died of related types of cancer, so he wanted to help others detect it early to have a better chance of survival. Okay, that is a good reason and makes this all seem a little more acceptable (pushing my butt back out now)—at least that’s what I am telling myself!

The doctor finally came in and asked how I was doing? Seriously? Felt like you had to say something didn’t you, Doc.? “Doing great, Doc… all this reminds me of Christmas two years ago.” They both looked a little puzzled, but it kept them from asking any follow up questions for sure! Jose and the doctor started doing their medical jargon back and forth and then Jose told the doctor “happy birthday.” I felt I needed to say something AGAIN. If I didn’t and he thought I was rude he might take it out on me! “Happy Birthday, Doc! If I would have known, I would have brought you something!” (What do you get a guy who sticks cameras up people butts for a living? Seems like they pretty much have everything at that point.) The doctor laughed and said, thanks but you’re getting ready to give me a present! What? Wait? What did he mean? My copay? Negative test results? Twelve pieces of my prostate flesh? The entire experience? What did he mean? He then asked me if I took the Valium. No sir (but I wish I would have) —just whiskey and a stick—because I needed to drive myself home today. Doctor, “Ohhhh. Okay. It shouldn’t be that bad. Just don’t move after we get started.” Why did I not take the Valium?

Well, it was time for the main event! I was already on my side and he had me pull my knees in tight like I was getting ready to tuck and roll like I was doing a somersault. I found out very quickly there was going to be an “ass-ault” but not a somersault. I will leave out a few of the details here as you can imagine yourself, but I really wouldn’t wish this test on my worst enemy (well, maybe one). Apparently my rectum felt okay because the doctor said he was ready to insert the camera/gun. He told me I would feel some pressure due to its size and he would gently slide it into place and let me know when he was ready to take his samples. The most positive thing I can say about this test is that the lubrication had been warmed to a very pleasant temperature. After that everything went downhill.

What the doctor called “slight pressure” felt to me like getting a cavity fixed without a shot of Novocain. It hurt! I needed more whiskey and definitely a bigger stick to bite down on. Honestly, my first thought was “there is no way I would want to be a homosexual.” My second thought (that I actually said out loud), was “That was the first time I ever gave myself an enema (as if someone else had given me one before), I hope everything looks okay.” Now it seemed like I was looking for an atta-boy and that I did a great job. The doctor gave the obligatory, “Everything looks good so far," then “A little bit further and I will be in the perfect position.” A little bit further and you will be looking at my tonsils, Doc. Seriously, don’t know if read the instructions, but I believe this is an exit only. Now I was singing Prince songs in my head, but I have given myself permission to take liberties with the lyrics of “Raspberry Beret” to fit the moment: “He went in through the out-door, out-door.” (Listen to the song and it will make more sense.)

After what felt like forever I heard the doctor say, “Okay, we are there.” Where? Hell? “Now in just a moment I am going to pull the trigger and it will make a little pop sound and feel like a small pinch and burst of air at the same time, so this is where I need you to lay really still. We need to do it 12 times to get a good sampling!” You lost me when you said “pull the trigger!” Seriously, lay still while you pinch the inside of my butt 12 times as you rip out tiny pieces of my flesh while I can’t see anything? Then I am supposed to lie here waiting to hear the pop of the gun go off? I know what to get you for your birthday now, Doc! How about a dose of sanity? So I was trying to think of anything BUT what was getting ready to happen. I started thinking of songs I learned as a kid—“He’s got the whole world in His hands,” and “This little light of mine.” After singing in my head and a little small talk with the doctor, I started thinking about why I didn’t realize that this was going to hurt as much as it is and why I thought it wasn’t going to be that big of a deal.

It wasn’t the first time I had done this in life—where I had underestimated what I had to do or what it would take to accomplish what I needed to do. Poor planning. Poor research. Poor budgeting. Sometimes pride got in the way. Sometimes I just whipped out the man card and thought—I GOT THIS! Regardless the reason, I once again underestimated my opponent! Then a rash of fear came over me. What if I have cancer and the doctor tells me I have 30 days to live and I have to deal with that on my own. People are going to start calling me for updates of how I am doing as soon as I leave today and what do I tell them? Do I turn off my phone and ignore them? Lie? Downplay it? And then I had an even worse thought. My butt is really going to hurt after this is over and I have to sit on it for five hours driving home!

The doctor finally finished torturing me and told me to just lay there for a minute while he put things away and entered some information into his computer there in the room. Well, I was thinking about jumping up and going for a run, but since you asked so nicely, Doc…! I started thinking about what was next. I knew I had to go sit back in the waiting room and then wait to be seen by the doctor to discuss tests from the last two days. After that I had to drive home — five hours! Right now, I don’t really want to do anything for five hours except lie on a bed on my stomach. Why did I not take that Valium? Why did I not get a driver? The thought actually went through my head to check the Uber rate from Jacksonville to Niceville to see if it would be worth it!

After about 15 minutes the doctor said Jose (my man nurse) would take me to the bathroom to get dressed and cleaned up. He told me my legs would feel weak for a few hours, my stomach would hurt a little bit, my rectum would be sore for a day (you think?), and I would have blood in my stools for 1-3 days (awesome). What do you say to your doctor after something like this? Thank you? You did a great job? Do you have a tip jar? Do you have a counselor you would recommend? I went with a simple “thank you” and headed off to the bathroom to de-lube and get dressed. I was hoping I would not go to the bathroom for about three days due to how sore I was, but was very curious what it was going to be like (sorry, these are the thoughts in my head).

I made my way back out to the waiting room where it felt like everyone knew what just happened to me, stared at me and seemed to give a little nod. I felt a wave of shame come over me, but also a sense of solidarity with all the 80-year-old men waiting to have the same procedure done. I am sure they were thinking, “Poor kid—thank God I am not him!” I took a chair in the back of the room near the water fountain and bathroom, where no one could sit behind me and talk about me. I tried to read, look at Facebook, return some emails, texts, and pray for mercy, but I could not concentrate, so I just found a lucky spot on the floor and stared at it for 15 or so minutes until I started dozing off.

I am not sure how long I was asleep, but eventually woke up to my name being called to go back and see the doctor. I stood up faster than I should have—as if I had forgotten what had just happened to me. I walked with a new kind of strut back to the doctor’s office and sat down (softly) and waited. He came in and pulled up all my charts and tests on the computer. Good news—you do not have any cancer anywhere that we tested or looked at. Bad news—you have a cyst on your bladder, one on your prostate, as well as some inflammation around the entrance and exit of the prostate. Good news—there is a laser surgery that can fix it and we believe this will take care of your frequent urination problem. Bad news is you still have to have surgery. Good news—we can do it in about two weeks. Bad news—you now have to drive home in your condition.

That was it! Two days of testing and I finally had an answer and a solution. There would be some complications I would have to live with for the rest of my life from the surgery, but it would work, and the solution would last a minimum of 10 years. It was a fairly simple surgery and I would only have to stay in the hospital for one night. I was a little shocked, surprised and excited. However, it was all offset by how bad my butt hurt. Honestly, I needed a little time to process this information. I knew my phone would start blowing up as soon as I let people know that I was done and leaving. So I just got in my car and started driving, but decided to take an hour or so to process my thoughts before letting anyone know what just happened.

As I thought about this entire experience I was numb. It had been such a long process and now I finally had an answer. I knew I still had a long way to go, but knew there was hope. I was also quickly reminded of how I wish I would have taken that Valium so I could have slept all the way home and woke up in my driveway and not in the pain that I was in. Why did I try to do this by myself? I was reminded of a quote by Laird Hamilton, “Make sure your worst enemy doesn’t live between our own two ears.” We all have enemies, but I have found most of mine live inside me. I almost broke out into song as I was reminded of the chorus from INXS—“Devil inside, devil inside, every single one of us has the devil inside!” (A tribute for my 80’s friends.)

As leaders we need to be aware of this, which means we need to be self-aware. Being self-aware has taken me many years, several counselors, accountability partners, taking time to reflect, building systems in my life so I stop repeating old patterns, and reading books and listening to podcasts to help me understand myself better. There have been several great studies on E.Q. in the past decade. E.Q. is finding our Emotional Quotient or more simply put—our emotional intelligence. Just like our intellectual intelligence can grow, so can our emotional intelligence--and it can be improved by how self-aware we are. (For more information on E.Q. I would recommend starting by reading “Emotional Intelligence 2.0“ by Travis Bradberry and Jean Greaves).

So many times in my life I have underestimated the enemies that continue to control me. My past is a big one! I continue to find tentacles from the abuse in my past that are wrapped around decisions I am making, the way I invest in relationships, trust issues that I have, and almost every aspect of who I am. In the same way, positive things from my past are seen as well, but they are not enemies to the self-awareness I am trying to obtain. I mentioned this in a previous chapter, but pride can come in many forms. Whatever form it comes in is definitely an enemy that can be underestimated. And so are poor habits like procrastination, being lazy, overspending, etc. Let me encourage you to be self-aware and not to underestimate your enemy. Most of the time your worst enemy will be you!

I do realize that sometimes our enemies are other people. They seem to have it out for us or for whatever reason just don’t like us. Maybe it was because of a broken relationship or simply because of a misunderstanding, but when we work on our self-awareness we also are working on how we can better get along with others. When we do this, we start to understand why we relate to others the way we do. What I have found in my life and in coaching others about how to grow in self-awareness is that we are attracted to people that have our same dysfunctions. (Example: Why does an abused woman continue to go back to abusers? Until she becomes self-aware and understands why she is seeking these types of behaviors in others, she will continue to be attracted to abusers because of something lacking in her life.) Dysfunctions happen in nearly every relationship we have and will affect our leadership growth, self-awareness, and all future relationship that we have.

Something this important deserves your attention. You have enemies and most are inside of you. It’s important to remember that not everything inside of you likes you! That becomes very apparent when you have a cold and a virus is fighting against you. However, so many times we miss those quiet and subtle enemies of our past experiences, behaviors, thoughts, and attitudes. We don’t even see them coming (because we don’t know where they came from) and we underestimate them and their power in our lives. Let me encourage you (as well as myself) to work on our emotional intelligence—our self-awareness., so that when the enemy (whether internal or external) attacks, we can calmly fight back and conquer them.