After having my son, I'd have an accident almost every time I laughed or sneezed. Did I need surgery to fix a pelvic prolapse? Nope. It turns out, my bladder was overextended, just like me.Confession: I started peeing my pants shortly after the birth of my only child. I’d tinkle after sneezing, coughing, jogging and jumping jacks. This went on for years.
Now what I’m about to tell you is utterly mortifying: That day stripped whatever dignity I had left, but it also gave it back to me tenfold. In one day, I went from stinking like a cat colony to being a new woman. For that, I would do it all over again, which is why I’m sharing all the damp details with you. If you’re like me, you might just need one day of humiliation to set your bladder straight.I floated into my appointment with a bladder full of the requested 10 cups of water.
I was then directed to stand over a sheet and cough while the doctor crouched and looked at my nether regions for offending drips. I drank cup after Styrofoam cup of warm waterAfter what felt like an eternity, I was allowed to relieve myself and turned to find the bathroom. My previously pleasant nurse, Karen, gruffly gestured to a commode in the centre of the room. I sat on the commode and farted.
I said nothing. I saw black. I felt like I was going to vomit. She yelled again. “OK, we got this. Don’t move, OK? I need to get toShe threw her leg back behind her to a button on the wall. She almost pressed it but not quite. She turned back to me. “OK, I need your help,” she said. “OK? Can you help me?”
This guy. This sweet guy who looks at women’s vaginas all day, watches for drips and listens to how much and how often. I waited for the news that I was going to need an operation to repair my prolapsed bladder.,’” he said. “You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. Your bladder is stretched from holding. You can’t feel it when it’s full, so you just keep holding and holding because you don’t feel like you need to go anymore.
“Uh, I need you to come back in for one second,” she said. She looked away and started to walk back into the room, checking over her shoulder that I was following her. She closed the door behind me and laughed nervously. “I, uh, well, I forgot something,” she said.Eyeing my overworked crotch, she gestured with her hand, then with her head. “I’m really sorry,” she said. “Sometimes this happens.”
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