Oh Bladder Control - Wherefore art thou? | Life Love and Hiccups: Oh Bladder Control - Wherefore art thou?
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Friday 2 March 2012

Oh Bladder Control - Wherefore art thou?

Pin It Some may be surprised to learn that that this post has actually been inspired by a really long wee.

When I got up this morning I made my usual dash to the bathroom and I was suitably impressed by just how long it took to empty my bladder and just how much I could actually hold in there. Seriously - I kid you not, it just kept coming and coming and I may or may not have had time to check my emails AND play my turn in a game of Words with Friends, before I finished emptying my bladder. Alrighty so I think I may have just fessed up to occasionally taking my iPhone into the bathroom with me, is this not common practice in this day and age? More to the point though, it was single handidly THE longest wee of my life. It went for well over a minute and was impressive enough I felt it deserved it's own post.

I had been busting to go to the toilet since about 3am but of course I didn't, cause it was raining outside and I was super comfy in my bed AND I was busy trying to prolong a lovely dream about a little lake house with white wood floors and big bay windows, and a fabulous new wardrobe that had been left behind by the previous owner. There was one bugbear in my dream though (isn't there always?) In my dream I was busting to go to the toilet and in typical weird dream style, my beautiful lake house didn't have a bathroom. Hmmmpf go figure! I think I may need to ease up on the spicy food too much wine combo before bed....or maybe I just shouldn't be so damn lazy and get up and go to the toilet when the urge presents itself.

Anyhow I digress as today I wanted to discuss the sensitive subject of Bladder Control or in my case the worrying lack of such a thing. I can remember being pregnant with my first child, reading all the information about Kegel exercises and Pelvic Floors and I also recall going Blah Blah Blah I have way more important things to think about like nursery colours matching the cot sheets, buying cute little maternity outfits and what relaxing meditation CDs and essential oils to pack in my hospital bag. Oh how I wish I had payed a bit more attention to the rather important information provided, and less to the music and oils that were dismissed in favour of every other unnatural drug on offer. If only I hadn't been such a know it all. My mum will be reading this and rolling her eyes as she swears I came out of her saying "Yeah-Yeah I know I know!" - a true 'Know it all' from my very first breath.

Even the second time around, I tossed aside the pamphlets in the bounty bag reminding me of the importance of Pelvic Floor exercises and I laughed at the jokes in Kaz Cooke's book Up the Duff on the matter, and throughout the whole pregnancy I probably did less than 10 little squeezes down there. Yup I was about as diligent with them as I am with any activity that has the word exercise involved.

It was when I sat on the toilet for the first wee after pushing the third melon out and I needed to get me some of that loo paper that was conveniently out of reach, it was right then that my wake up call came. I tried to stop mid flow, but to my horror not only did it not stop, the flow did not even lessen in the slightest. The tap was on full force and not even the most experienced plumber had the ability to turn it off. At that precise moment I remember thinking to myself "Oh Shit Houston, we have a bit of a problem here" and I cried great big tears for my broken lady bits.

Things improved sightly with the help of some physio and I promised myself and the Doctor that from there on in I would do my Kegels whenever I thought about them, and that I would definitely think about them more often than I had in the past.

I was convinced all the experts were telling the truth when they said I could do them anywhere, anytime and no one would be able to tell what I was doing. So much so that I one day I found myself in the bank talking to a loans manager and for some unbeknown reason I decided to give my pelvic floor a little workout right there and then, after all he wouldn't be able to tell so what was the biggie? The biggie was when the bank man stopped talking and stared at me with a really frightened look on his face and nervously enquired as to whether I needed any medication for what was happening, it was then that I realised my physio had actually been full of crap. I don't know about her, but I for one could not squeeze those little muscles without squinting my eyes, holding my breath, tensing every muscle in my body and sticking my tongue out the side of my mouth. Oh why hadn't I paid more attention to those little pamphlets in the bounty bag right back at the beginning.

To this day I panic when I am about to sneeze. They say that 8 sneezes in a row is equivalent to an orgasm. I'd love to tell you that is a true fact, but I wouldn't actually know as I am too busy crossing my legs and holding my Tassie Map in a totally unflattering pose to prevent any leakage. Such a pose is fine in the privacy of your own home, but at a work meeting, or in the school office talking to your children's teacher - not so much.

Trampolines, lifting heavy things, farting and huge belly laughs also pose serious threats these days and can in a split second induce one of many of my highly effective but incredibly unladylike bladder control poses.

So at age 38 I have come to realise that I in fact do NOT know everything and that when a qualified professional cares enough to go to the effort of printing a brochure or 100 on the matter, perhaps it is a sign you should pay at least a little attention. These days I work my pelvic floor at every opportunity both privately AND in public, cause I figure a little face pulling and tongue action is way less humiliating than wet undies.

So if you are ever in a meeting, a meal or mid conversation with me, and my eyes cross over, tongue sticks out and I turn blue from holding my breath, don't try and stab me with any anti epilepsy medicine, I'm just consciously working those muscles baby. Unless of course I pass out from holding my breath too long, then by all means feel free to grab the nearest George Clooney look a like and resuscitate me.
Whilst this post was just me over sharing on a personal nature again I thought I had better include a link to some information about how you actually correctly do those exercises ...... just in case you too want to test the 8 sneeze theory.