In spite of my fears

Today I was greatly out of my comfort zone as I sat at the back of an auditorium, staring down at the conference programme where my name appeared as the eighth speaker on the list. I was asked a couple of weeks prior to the conference if I would do a short presentation about cancer research. I am a cancer research nurse after all, but I don’t normally give presentations, so I cannot explain the sense of dread that filled me, being asked to speak in front of fifty plus healthcare professionals, including specialist nurses and doctors.

I didn’t think my fear was a good enough reason to refuse, so I busily conjured up plans to be on leave that day, to ask my manager to refuse to release me from work, or anything else that I could use as a suitable excuse. In the end I agreed, even as I spoke the words I couldn’t believe I was saying yes, for there was no reality where I could actually imagine speaking in front of all those people.

At one point (or several points) in the preparations for the presentation, I cried- I didn’t think I would ever have anything decent to present. Despite how tirelessly I worked on the project, willing it to be good enough; all I could see was making a fool of myself in front of people who were far more knowledgeable and experienced than I. But deep down I knew that I needed to do this, in spite of my fears.

During the other speakers presentations I tried to concentrate, with success at first, choosing denial as a way of dealing with my nerves. I counted down the presentations ahead of mine, knowing that there were five speakers, a coffee break, three more speakers, then me. After a ‘technical’ fault, we had to break early for coffee, which threw me into a slight spin. Then the sessions were running one hour behind, not unusual for a conference of this kind, but adding to my nervous tension, none the less.  

Finally we reached the penultimate presentation and all I could hear was ‘white noise’. I took some breathes, trying to gather oxygen in my lungs as one of my colleagues leaned over to me, saying: ‘you’ve got this’. Two of my other colleagues, who were sat diagonally to my left, turned to me and smiled in solidarity.  ‘I’ve got this!’ My inner monologue told me and I remembered the words of my beautiful son the night before: ‘Don’t be scared and talk loud and clear!’ I sipped my water, trying to clear the dry rasp forming in my throat, before the dreaded words ‘any questions’ filled the air, signalling the end of the speaker’s presentation.

It was my turn!

Question time went on that bit too long, once again adding to my nervous tension before I was called up. I assumed an air of ‘pretend’ confidence as the consultant uploaded my presentation and I focused intently on making my blood deprived fingertips clip the microphone to my nurse’s uniform. Fear amplified the ‘white noise’, so I took a deep breath, telling myself it would soon be over. ‘I’ve got this!’ my inner monologue told me once more, as I quickly remembered the advice people had given me ‘to speak slowly and clearly’. Then words left my mouth as If I was on autopilot. I methodically moved from slide to slide, and to my surprise I perfectly pronounced all the words I stuttered over in rehearsal. I looked up and saw my lovely friends and colleagues beaming at me in support, and I even managed to make eye contact with other members of the audience.

With each slide in my presentation my confidence grew and my anxiety dissipated. As I reached the closing points I felt relief build and then surge through my body as I heard myself say: ‘any questions?’

I’d done it!  

I wouldn’t go as far as to say that I would leap at the chance to repeat the experience again in a hurry; I can still feel my knees knocking together so fiercely that I feared they would fail to carry me to the front to speak. What I proved to myself today was that under all that self-doubt and fear was a confident and capable person, who rose to the challenge and succeeded. I am proud and relieved in equal measure, and I cannot tell you the sense of achievement I feel in facing something I utterly dreaded.

If only this feeling could be gathered up and bottled!

KT x