So over to you, Ben…
Yet another Movember fundraising campaign is drawing to a close, and I'm once again sporting a poor excuse for a moustache on my top lip.
Mild panic set in after a week as there was almost no growth to be seen.
Had the gravity enforced migration south of hair from my head now reached my top lip?
Was it middle age setting in…?
This is my ninth year, so I should have trusted in the power of the Mo.
And sure enough, a few days later I started to see the shoots of fundraising power sprout from my face. Phew.
But my mild anxiety levels about the state of my moustache are nothing compared to the fear experienced by the thousands of men around the world who are living with testicular cancer.
I know because I’ve been there. Twice.
Having lost both testicles to cancer at 26 and 30 years old I know first hand how challenging this can be to deal with mentally.
The whole journey – from diagnosis to living beyond cancer – causes huge levels of anxiety.
And despite the fact that testicular cancer survival rates are high, it’s natural to feel anxious every time you have a check-up to see if the cancer has come back.
Testicular cancer is the most common cancer in men aged 15-45, so what if you are a young man in your teens or early twenties without a partner?
How will having one or no testicles affect your love life and relationships?
Will you be able to have children? Will people judge you? What will the treatment do to you?
When I started the “One Offs”, a support group for men diagnosed with testicular cancer, five years ago, I soon realised I wasn’t alone and that my concerns about these issues were far from unique.
My frustrations about getting the right information to guide me through my diagnosis, treatment and life after testicular cancer were shared by every other survivor I met.
Very quickly, I began to see the positive impact that talking to a fellow patient can have.
Being able to chat with people that had been through the same life-changing experience and could empathise with my fears, understand the physical and mental effects that treatment and check-ups had, was hugely beneficial.
It also made us aware of some of the mental health issues around living with cancer.
Talking and sharing our stories empowered all the guys in our group to take positive action around their treatment and move towards being happier and healthier after cancer.
But I kept asking myself about all the other men and their families around the world going through this alone. How could we help them?
Step forward the Movember Foundation.
As the world’s only global charity tackling some of the biggest health issues that men face, they were in a terrific position to create resources that addressed the issues men with testicular cancer faced.
It’s one of Movember’s key investment areas alongside prostate cancer, men’s mental health and suicide prevention.
Although Movember is one of the leading funders of research into better treatments for testicular cancer, it is also committed to ensuring those affected by the disease have a better quality of life during and beyond treatment.
This year Movember launched the True Nth Testicular Cancer website.
It aims to ensure no man goes through testicular cancer without a community to support him and knowing that no matter how hard the journey is, there is a good chance that he can get back to living a healthy and happy life.
I’m convinced that if I’d had this sort of resource and support at that time, I would not have suffered with depression as badly as I did.
I would have been better educated about what I was up against, what my options were and what to look out for along the way. I’m very proud that we’ve been able to take the “One Offs” global so all men can benefit.
It’s huge thanks to the Movember community – the 300,000 Mo Bros and Mo Sistas around the world who have signed up this year to grow moustaches, host events or take part in a physical challenge, that this has happened.
Without them and their generous donors, we would never have had the funds to develop this resource or the many other ground-breaking programmes that Movember invest in around the world.
So, as I sit here stroking my poor excuse of a moustache, I do so with the knowledge that I’m putting my top lip on the line for a very good cause.
It’s a humbling thought that even a sub-standard moustache such as mine has the power to change and save the lives of men around the world.
Every person that has supported the cause in any way should be very proud of what they have helped achieve.
Mo on.
Source: Read Full Article