Yesterday I got my balls massaged for 30 minutes…

…and I couldn’t get out of my head!

Maybe it was the gown that I was wearing, or maybe it was the smell of a medical building.

Maybe it was the stone-cold man who was taking the machine that was full of goop and rubbing it over my balls for 30 minutes.

Yeah that’s right, it wasn’t some gorgeous woman massaging my balls—that would’ve been nice. If a pretty woman is massaging my balls, I’m not going to be in my head, I’m going to be more in my little head and enjoying it.

This, my friends, was a medical test.

A couple years ago, I got a vasectomy. I figured that one child is plenty in this world, and I wanted her to be the prodigy daughter.

Actually, I got a vasectomy because I really—as most of you already know—never wanted children. But now, I’m blessed, and I have the most beautiful daughter in the entire world and I love her to death. So I’m happy that she’s in my life in every way, shape, and form.

But I certainly don’t want another one!

So a couple years back, I got a vasectomy. The vasectomy is a simple procedure, supposedly. I went in there, the doctor was cool, I didn’t take the valium (big mistake), and they cut me open, sewed me back up—good to go.

But ever since then, I’ve had a dull ache down there, in one of my testicles. (Yes, people, we’re going there. It’s extreme honesty month.) So I scheduled an appointment.

When I got there, my doctor took hold of my balls, rolled them back and forth and said, “All clear!” I told him that they hurt a little bit. He says it’s probably scar tissue, but we should get it checked out to be sure.

So I put the appointment off for a week, because as men, we tend to put things off because if there’s the possibility of bad news.

That week ended yesterday morning when I got my balls massaged.

The guy, stone face, sounded German. So I tried to get him to crack up a little bit. You know, might as well make it fun.

“Hey man, are you German?”

“No. Lithuanian.”

“Okay.”

So as he’s rubbing my balls, and I’m getting more and more in my head.

“Hey, uh, what do you see?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay, so when do I get the results?”

“Tomorrow. Hopefully.”

Wow, tomorrow. Hopefully. All I’m thinking is that he’s going to find cancer and I’ll lose my balls and never have sex again and that I’d have to have one ball taken out and a steel ball put in as a replacement—and he’s giving me loose promises about when I’m going to get my results.

I was thinking ‘I’m dying’, and then I thought to myself, “What am I going to buy myself if I live? I’ve got to treat myself to something nice…What do I want to do? What do I want to say? Who have I not talked to recently that I need to talk to?”

I told myself to stop. Stop. Stop the voices. Stop doing this. I’m not dying.

But the voices didn’t stop. It was endless. I was basically laying there thinking to myself that there’s something physically wrong with me in every way, shape, and form.

I know it’s wrong but when you’re laying there and somebody has your balls, your manhood in their hands…and there’s so much uncertainty around your life, your mind goes to dark places.

But then I thought about something odd. I thought about meeting women. I thought about my clients. And suddenly, a huge does of perspective washed over me.

Meeting women.  Please guys come on.  You’ve got your health.  You’re alive.  Meeting women is simple.  Nobody’s holding a sonogram to your head and telling you you’ve got cancer and 6 months to live. Meeting women is all in your head—it’s not life or death.

Guys, you need to find a way to get out of your head.  Take action.  You’ve got to live.  You’ve got to say hello, you’ve got to do the small things.

We only have our health.  Never neglect your health ever.  Your health is the most important to you.  People that are cheap with their health are cheap with themselves.  It means that they’re cheap with their foundation.

As I lay there, I began to think to myself, “I am going to be fine.  I don’t have wait for the phone call from the doctor to hear that because I’m not going to sweat it out. I know I’m fine.”

It’s human nature to freak out, but that doesn’t make it right.

We need to look at our lives with perspective. A lot of the things we freak out about are not big deals in the long run. We make them a big deal in our mind, and we act accordingly.

That’s how powerful your mind is.

So instead of using it to create crazy stories about mad German scientists wanting to remove your balls, or crazy hot women that reject you and tell all their friends that you have a small penis—let’s use our wild imaginations to create our ideal future and work towards making that a reality.

. . .

You wanted honesty? You got it. That’s my honest confession of the day: I freak out from time to time.

I feel better now. A lot better…

But come on doc, give me a call.