This educational resource was sponsored by Poise, a brand of Kimberly-Clark.
As told to Jacquelyne Froeber
A few years ago, I was at home when I had the urge to pee. I made my way to the bathroom, but about halfway there, I started to go. I picked up the pace but some of the pee didn’t make it into the bowl. I was surprised — and thankful I was home! I chuckled and brushed it off. I must’ve waited longer than I thought to go. But I also felt uneasy.
I’m not exactly a stranger to bladder leakage. I was in a terrible car accident when I was a teenager and had multiple pelvic fractures and a ruptured bladder in addition to other injuries. I was in a coma for a while, but my body healed and I went back to the sports I enjoyed before the accident. During my first track meet after my recovery, I was rounding the quarter-mile and pushing myself to stay ahead of the pack when I felt a warm sensation begin to spread down my legs. It wasn’t long before my maroon shorts were soaked. Each stride solidified that I’d peed myself in front of the entire school. I was mortified.
That experience taught me an early lesson about my body and bladder leakage: pushing my body could end up in humiliation. I would never run again. I wouldn’t even look at a trampoline. But I learned that I could do less stressful physical activities, like biking and walking, and I’d be fine.
I put the peeing incident behind me and went about my life relatively leak-free. Years later, I gave birth to two boys, both C-sections, and never had a problem with my bladder. I continued my active lifestyle and laughed and sneezed with reckless abandon into my 40s.
And then things started to change. Like many women in perimenopause, my body is changing. I was hoping that one bathroom incident was no big thing. But it happened again the next month, and gradually, I started to leak before I made it to the bathroom more and more frequently.
My job made this an even bigger problem. I do in-home healthcare, so I’m always in the car driving from one place to the next. I’m not really supposed to use the bathroom at people’s homes, so I have to rely on finding a gas station or a fast-food restaurant where I can sneak in without buying something — which makes me feel bad, but if I had to buy something every time I had to pee, I’d be broke.
Since I don’t have the freedom to just use the bathroom if I have the urge, I have to hold it. But these days the urge means I have seconds, not minutes, before a leak.
This has led me to wearing bladder leakage pads most days because sometimes getting to a gas station — or any restroom — just isn’t possible. Also, I know I’m just one sneeze away from a leak, so pads help me feel less stressed about work and whenever I leave the house.
Back in the day, after the track meet incident, I went to see a urologist to assess my bladder leakage, which is technically called urinary incontinence, and to find out if there was anything I could do to help the situation.
He told me to train my bladder by pushing out the pee — hard — and stopping the flow midstream. All these years later, I’ve been pushing and pushing thinking I was strengthening my pelvic floor muscles, but it turns out the jury’s out on whether that’s the best thing to do.
My current OB-GYN encouraged me, instead, to relax and let the pee dribble and flow naturally without aggressive pushing. This is tough because it’s the opposite of what I’ve been doing since I was a kid. But I’m trying.
My OB-GYN also told me that people who have abdominal surgery are more likely to have bladder leakage. Since I had abdominal surgery after the car accident and two C-sections, that’s a triple whammy for me. And age probably has something to do with it, too.
Since my urinary incontinence has gotten worse lately, I started pelvic floor therapy a few weeks ago. There, I work on strengthening and engaging my muscles with a pelvic floor therapist.
To help manage symptoms, I make sure I don’t drink an excessive amount. But a girl’s gotta have some fun. I still have my coffee in the morning, even though it’s an irritant to the bladder. (Tip: Drinking a glass of water with it can make it less irritating.)
Pretty much everything about bladder leakage is, in fact, irritating.
I’m a single mom, so I’m tired a lot of the time and I don’t always want to be thinking about what I’ve been taught about bladder health. I don’t always want to wait two hours to get full bladder expansion. And I don’t want to have to relax my pelvic muscles when I’m in a restroom at a gas station. Sometimes, I just want to push, go and get the hell out of there.
And sometimes I do that. But most days I do try to honor my bladder. I hope the pelvic floor therapy helps. Until then, I won’t feel comfortable unless I wear a pad — because life happens.
With the help of pelvic floor therapy and pads, I’m hoping that, soon, I’ll be back to running for fun instead of just running for the bathroom.
*Mary Kathryn is not her real name.
Resources
National Association for Continence
This educational resource was sponsored by Poise, a brand of Kimberly-Clark.
Have a Real Women, Real Stories of your own you want to share? Let us know.
Our Real Women, Real Stories are the authentic experiences of real-life women. The views, opinions and experiences shared in these stories are not endorsed by HealthyWomen and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of HealthyWomen.
From Your Site Articles
Related Articles Around the Web
Credit : Source Post
