In a very quick turn of events, I actually had my first PFT appointment yesterday. 3 really great things happened:
- My physical therapist cursed way more than I had expected
- She said I have the strongest glutes she’s seen all year
- Driving home, I passed a mechanic shop with a sign that read, “It’s back — pumpkin spice oil change,” and I thought that was very good
As I’ve said, I’ve known I need PFT for a long time, so just getting up the courage to call for an appointment was a big step for me. The first place I called had appointments open in March, but they recommended a few other places that might have earlier availability. As luck would have it, a place I called on Friday had a cancellation opening for Monday morning. My partner encouraged me to take the opening so that I wouldn’t have to be anxious about the appointment for more than 48 hours.
The appointment was great; I didn’t even have to take my clothes off. For those of you who are unfamiliar, PFT often involves internal work, meaning the therapist will actually touch pelvic floor muscles via the vagina. This was a huge red flag for me because the whole reason I need the therapy is that I have issues with things like tampons and gyno exams. Hence the hesitation to seek help.
My therapist, C, assured me that this level of assessment was something we could work up to. She never wants to do anything that makes me feel unsafe, but she does believe touch-based work will be important for my healing. For this first appointment, we mostly just talked, which is something I am very good at.
Honestly, it was kind of like having a personal anatomy lesson specific to your own bodily issues. I expressed that the secondary reason I was seeking PFT (the primary being the physical difficulties) was the need for more knowledge about how pregnancy and birth can change the body, and C was totally on board. To understand the pelvic area as it typically is, she used a model that included the hips, pelvic muscles, and urinary, vaginal and rectal openings. The pelvic floor is like a sling of muscles that hold all your down-there organs inside your body. The muscles tighten or loosen to let things or stop things from coming in or out of the openings.
C explained that when the muscles tighten a lot, it can be difficult, painful and uncomfortable for things to enter or leave the openings. She told me to imagine my body as a multi-level building. Right now, when a hand or tampon or speculum gets near my nether-regions, my pelvic floor is going from the basement (where it should be) up to the roof (where it absolutely should not be). A goal of my therapy will be to desensitize the area enough to stop this involuntary trauma reaction and keep my pelvic floor in the basement. I said that’s a lofty goal considering my pelvic floor is using an elevator I don’t have a key to, but C reassured me that we can get there by doing the work.
Apparently this work starts with my breathing. I guess I even do that wrong. If I breathe through my diaphragm, I can relax my vagina, or so I am told. I’ll be practicing my breathing technique and reading a book about pelvic pain for the next few weeks until my second appointment with C. I’ll also be maintaining my booty exercises because they are evidently quite effective.
