Physical Torture

Since being pregnant for the fourth time, I have had a few, uh hum, ISSUES, with my bladder. I have had multiple UTI's, frequent urges to go, etc. Well DUH. Pregnancy does that.

But after the baby is born, it is all supposed to go back to the way it was before i.e. normal. Well, lets just say, not so much...

So at my 6 week postpartum doctor's appointment, I discussed it with my OB/GYN. And she says, "Well, that's no problem. I'll prescribe some physical therapy and you'll be better in no time."

Ok. Sure. Physical therapy. So what can they do? Tell me to do some kegels, right? Not exactly...

The initial visit was... well... darn right invasive and not something I would share in detail over the internet. (One good martini, however, and I may be convinced to share far more than you would ever want to know.) From that initial visit I was given my homework which did include kegels among other things. Also, it was discovered that I have some issues with my piriformus muscle. (I didn't know there was another muscle on my butt other than a glute) The therapist showed me some stretches and that was that.

So, for the last 3 weeks, I have been doing my little set of exercises and stretches. Things are somewhat better, I suppose. Or maybe I have just gotten used to it.

I went back to physical therapy today expecting more of the same... Yada yada. How are you? Are things improving? Well, keep doing the same.

The therapist asked if my hip was still bothering me. I said yes, it still is sore - not as flexible as I think it should be. "Well, let's see what we can do about that," not knowing what I was in store for.

That therapist must have hands of steel. Her fingers dug into my ass like it was a meatloaf. I immediately flinched. "Too much pressure?" her voice cracked like the Wicked Witch of the West (WWW)--- I'll get you, my pretty...AH AH AH.

Heck yeah it was too much pressure, but I am too chicken to say anything other than "No, it's not too bad" through clenched teeth. I mean, really, how long can it go on? I'm a tough girl. I can handle a little pain. I mean really, I waited like half an hour for my epidural didn't I? I only had an hour appointment. I looked at the clock - 9:17 - only 28 minutes left. I can take it.

Again, NOT SO MUCH. I had to stop her after like 3 minutes. "Umm, Robin... (that was the WWWs name) umm...that's really starting to hurt. Can we lighten the pressure?"

"Sure, sure, sure, no problem." At this point my mental picture of her started to change. Her face turned green and the black hair on her head transformed into a pointy black hat...

I waited. She was still kneading my meatloaf. And now she was wearing black and white striped stockings and pointy shoes.

And waited. And waited. But nothing about the pressure changed... And my mental picture added a wart with a hair that started to grow and grow...

"Uhh.... Robin?"

"Almost done."

What was that crap about let me know about the pressure. They must say that just to make you feel better. That freaking HURT.

"How about some heat? Do you have time for that? It should keep you from feeling too sore."

"Uhh... okay. Sure." I was already held captive, half naked, and one of my butt checks was practically screaming at me. Heat can't be too bad. It should help.

So my little witch therapist scurried out of the room and returned with the heat packs. That hair in her wart was still there. She laid the heat packs on my butt, handed me a bell, shut off the light and said "I'll be back in 10. Ring if you need anything..."

Ahhh. This felt kinda good. My mental image began to morph Robin back into a human form. I had ten whole minutes to do nothing but hold a hot pack on my hiney. This has been the best part of my day.

Robin returned and removed the hot packs. I felt okay at this point. She then said "This is a little cold." She sprayed something on my back side. BIOFREEZE. Now she was flash freezing the meatloaf. Holy cow. That was NOT what I was expecting.

"Okay. We're all done. See you in 2 weeks!" And she left the room. She earned her mole back.

The most insulting part of the whole process is checking out. I got to pay $15 for an ass kicking massage and a ten minute nap. Man. It just goes to show what a mother will go through for a measley ten minutes of peace and quiet.

My next appointment is all set. Sure, I'll be there. Maybe if they are busy I can sneak in a few extra minutes...