I have some MALE FRIENDS AND FAMILY who read this blog, so I like to be very careful to let everyone know what they're getting into if I'm about to write about something Personal. So be warned: This post contains discussions of Kegels, which are exercises for the girly-bits. And that is ALL this post contains, so you are safe to bail.
Last chance to leave the room before I start using various v-words.
At my last GYN appointment there was a pop quiz on Kegels. I failed. My grade didn't surprise me any more than failing grade on a physics pop quiz would have surprised me, because Kegels are not in my repertoire of party tricks.
I'll bet our female ancestors were NEVER ONCE asked to exercise their pelvic floors. They may have had to deal with famine, log cabins and mud huts, crop failure, polio, assorted pestilences, but they were never asked to find a muscle by "stopping the flow of urine." I have tried this, and it was unhelpful.
But now I am the owner of an actual pamphlet telling me I must do Kegels or else rue it later. The pamphlet takes a threatening tone with me, and I resent it. It shows me a drawing of a woman awkwardly carrying a large bag of groceries as she frantically pushes open the door of a public bathroom. THIS COULD BE YOU, the pamphlet implies. Wait, she has already checked out? This scenario would make more sense to me if she had a cart.
Then the pamphlet feels it has bullied me enough, and it takes a mollifying, patronizing tone. "Kegel exercises don't require special clothing or equipment," it reassures me, but I hadn't been worrying about that. What kind of "special clothing" could there possibly be---let alone equipment? The pamphlet goes on to tell me that "no one can tell you're doing them, so they can be done almost anywhere." Oh, I am so sure.
But here is the final straw: after assuring me that Kegels don't require special equipment, the pamphlet says: "Eventually, special weights that you place in your vagina may be recommended to help make your Kegels even more effective." I would rather--FAR rather--pee my pants while carrying a bag of groceries.
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