“Well, Jenny cough again but harder this time,” said Dr. Pollen from her cushy position directly underneath me and looking up into my nether regions. How did the doctor get such a view, you ask? I was on a special type of birthing chair (one that was probably used in the 1600s as they inquired as to whether you were a witch). Not only was there barely any seat to hold me up, I was hoisted about 6ft in the air, so that the doctor’s assistants (or people with weird fetishes who pay to be called doctor’s assistants, as I like to call them) were looking my vajajay dead in the eye, ahem, the labia. The doctor then sat on her stool and literally rolled underneath me as if she was checking out my chassis. Which makes sense because she did mention the need for a tune up.
Why would one sit on such a chair without being dared or paid? Because apparently I have all kinds of prolapse (that’s stuff caving in and falling down, to you and me) and I’ve been totes ignoring my pelvic floor, which is weird because I’m pretty good about taking care of my floors … waxing the wood ones, cleaning the grout on the stone… Actually I do have a cleaning person, so it would’ve been weird to ask her to attend to my pelvic floor after say, vacuuming. Apparently, I’m not the only one who’s let their pelvic floor slip through the cracks. Google says 40% of women are found to have stage II or greater prolapse upon pelvic exam. I read it on the internet people, so it must be true.
And yet, no one seems to discuss it. So, I am because A. “Vagina” is my favorite word to work into random conversation B. Doctors like to treat this issue with hysterectomies, which may not be necessary. C. If I pee on the floor while we’re having a conversation, you’ll already know why and we can just gloss over it and move on to the next topic.
I first noticed a problem when I could no longer comfortably wear tampons. Listen, you probably take tampons for granted, but the next time you use one, you should take a second to give it a pat on the applicator and say “thank you” because one day they may no longer be your friend and maxi pads are like the Kardashian’s of friends (you use them when there’s nothing else, but they mostly just annoy you).
I called and met with a couple doctors who frankly couldn’t wait to get their hands on my uterus. They were talking hysterectomy before the exam! This is when it dawned on me that either uteruses, (uterii?) are being sold to zombies on the black market or these doctors are collecting them to impress women.
Doc: (to random girl in bar) That’s so funny that you collect Limoge boxes, I collect another type of “box” (giggles) uteruses. Would you like to see my collection some time?
Random Girl: Um no (crosses legs tightly), I’ll pass.
Doc: Can I get your fallopian tubes, I mean your number?
RG: Um, I’m a lesbian.
Since all these MDs wanted to take my baby-making parts and run for the hills and I wasn’t gonna give ’em up without a fight, I looked into some alternatives and found you can start by strengthening the pelvic floor muscles and or you can do a surgery to put everything back in place first — and see how that goes.
That’s how I got to this doctor and into this chair, but fear not, I got me a vaginal trainer. In fact, she spent much of the morning under my vajay just yelling at it Jillian Michaels style. That must be step one. Then we’re on to DVDs, weight training, electro stimulus… I mean we’re getting my vag into fighting shape. I’m gonna enter it in arm wrestling competitions and maybe use it to pull a truck or something. I don’t want to get ahead of myself here but I’ll keep you posted on the progress.
If you’re suffering from some kind of prolapse (40% of you are) know that you’re not alone!
If you have no signs, you lucky girl, start doing those kegels that we all said we’d do and never really did, or one day some zombie will buy your uterus on Ebay!
(Look forward to the follow up of this piece which is tentatively titled My Vagina Will Be Up Your Vagina at The Playground.)
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