Adventures- Part 2

After meeting the business end of my doctor's trident, I was physically and emotionally spent. All I wanted to do was put my underwear back on and waddle to the car. Instead, I was ushered into his office to talk. I could tell by the number of pamphlets he pulled off the wall as we left the examination room that the "talk" was not going to be pleasant. 

I'll be honest, after such an intimate encounter I was having a hard time looking in his eyes. I found myself staring at the desk and at the imposing pile of pamphlets that were systematically handed to me as he went over the results of my exam. He was professional and patient, but I had a difficult time getting over my own embarrassment.  He tried to counter my embarrassment by reminding me that he deals with this every day and, while it isn't normal for me, it is part of his routine.

He slowly began to review my findings. He explained that my pelvic muscles were damaged when I was carrying Timmy  and that strong adhesions had formed. These adhesions were the source of some of my pain and needed to be addressed.  I was handed a pamphlet for "Pelvic Floor Physical Therapy." 

Before he continued, I had to question the method of this physical therapy. He smiled and explained that the therapists were highly trained and professional. I asked him how my pelvic floor was exercised.  It turns out that it isn't exercised but physically manipulated.

Internally manipulated. Twice a week. For the next three months. My mind was reeling, and I just wanted to cry. 

He continued with his results.  I learned that my vagina is like an old gym sock which has lost its elasticity. Yep, my new doctor actually called my vagina an old gym sock. Let me tell you, that does nothing to boost the ego!  He definitely needs to come up with a better analogy.

My washed out old lady parts are prolapsing. As is my bladder, and my rectum. Lovely. Just freaking lovely. I was warned to try to refrain from heavy lifting so that my bladder doesn't completely prolapse. All of a sudden I had an image of my bladder hitting the floor of the bounce house when I'm playing with Timmy. That would certainly traumatize the little tykes, wouldn't it! 

I didn't even know it was possible for my vagina to fall out of my body, but apparently it is happening. I guess I shouldn't be surprised since it is apparently washed out like an old gym sock.  Yep, that one is still sticking in my craw.  

The details of the invasive surgery were reviewed, and I was handled more pamphlets. The doctor wants to wait until the adhesions and muscle issues are addressed through PT before performing the surgery. In the meantime, I have to hope that my bladder, rectum and washed up gym sock of a lady part will all defy gravity and stay upright. 

Getting old stinks!