Physio’s Daughter
Jessie Fleming x Physio!Reader
Preview: Reader is following in her mother’s footsteps in becoming a physiotherapist and gets the opportunity to spend the afternoon with the Canadian women’s soccer team.
Warnings: none
WC: 3.7k
A/N: this is going to be a few parts
You couldn’t believe you were attending ‘bring your kid to work day’ with your mom as a 22 year old but here you were, in the car on the way to her work.
“Are you sure I’m not too old to be coming with you?” You questioned your mom.
“It’ll be just like going to your clinical rotations. Plus you can put it on your resume, so it's really just helping you.” That’s how your mom had tried to convince you that you’d have fun coming to work with her. “Plus I talked with my boss, he said as of now we have an extra spot on the physio team to take someone to the Olympics, if you do well today, maybe it could be you.”
“Wouldn’t you want someone who's more qualified, not just a student?” You were in the process of obtaining your certification as a physiotherapist. You had finished your bachelor’s degree and were in the middle of your post graduate athletic therapy program.
“We have all the staff we need, they think bringing on someone young might be good. The players might like having someone closer to their age, not just all 40 and 50 year olds on their staff. Plus you’re plenty qualified, we have students in and out of the facility all the time.”
As a kid you always tagged along with your mom, you didn't have much of a choice, having a single mom who worked late hours in secondary schools meant your evenings were spent in her training room or on the sidelines of games. The older you got, the less you went with your mom, opting to stay home or spend time with friends instead of accompanying her at work. When you moved out to go to university you had chosen to follow in your Mom’s footsteps, intending to become a physiotherapist as well. At the same time you moved out, your Mom took on a new job, one that allowed her to travel more, a job with the Canada’s Women’s Soccer Team.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to spend the day with your mom, you were interested in seeing her work, it was more that you knew you'd be the oldest “kid” who was at her work, a lot of her other staff had either young children or kids that had moved away and were on with their own lives.
The ride to the training facility was short, you got out of the car, and walked into the front door. You followed your mom around the facility, having no idea where to go. She walked you down and around various hallways, saying hello to the other staff who passed with their small children. You just would give a polite hello and a wave before continuing down the hall.
It was a weird feeling, walking into a room of players you recognized from TV, players who were well known across the country and the world, and yet they greeted your Mom with a hello and questions about her weekend, as if they were friends.
“That is my daughter, she thinks she's too old to be here but she's studying to be a physio too so I figured I'd bring her here and get some free labor.” You hear your mom joking with the two players standing in front of her, she's pointing at you over her shoulder and the two players who you recognized to be Janine Beckie and Ashley Lawrence were looking over at you. You politely wave and move over in their direction.
“Hi.” Not knowing what to say to them, you just keep it short.
They both introduce themselves to you, you assume just being polite of them, it would be hard to not know who they were. One of the other physios comes in, taking Ashley to get taped, your mom taking Janine to work on her knee. Not sure what to do with yourself you just stand back, as if you were back to being a shy 6 year old in a new environment hiding behind your mom. You watch your mom work, she moves effortlessly, doing tasks in seconds that would take you minutes. You always admired your Mom at her work but you had a new appreciation now that you had begun school and realized how much work and time it took to learn everything.
Players come and go, getting various treatments, keeping the staff busy. You watch around, seeing the rest of the staff, how they work with the players, how they all seemed so relaxed and at ease.
“Hi Jessie, how are you, what do you need today?” Your mom looks past you toward the door where Jessie Fleming had walked in. Obviously you knew who she was, her olympic heroics from many years ago making her a Canadian household name. On top of her soccer talent that drew your attention as a kid, her appearance definitely didn't hurt. You had always found her pretty, a silly little school girl crush when you were younger watching her on TV as she played as a teenager, something that you had forgotten about over the years but her standing in front of you brought it all back up.
“Hi, I’m doing well. Can I just get my calf worked out? I’ve been having some tightness.” She looked at your mom, a polite smile across her face, she pointed at the empty table as she asked.
“Can you handle that?” You realize your mom is looking at you, asking you to help with Jessie as the rest of the staff is held up with other players. She’s asking you to help
“Um, yeah, sure.” You weren’t going to say no, plus you could handle a simple massage.
“Jessie, this is my daughter, she’s a physio student and plenty qualified to massage your calf, I promise.” You roll your eyes at your mom’s comment, feeling embarrassed that she has to explain that you’re able to help. You wash your hands and walk over to the table Jessie had sat down on.
“Hi, I’m Jessie.” She introduces herself, her hand extended for a handshake, you can't help but let out a small laugh at the fact that she of all people is introducing herself.
“I know who you are.” Your hand meets hers taking her handshake and you quickly introduce yourself to her. Her hand is soft but her handshake is firm, it only lasts a second before you pull back, pointing to her legs.
“Which calf?” You look at her. She points to her left before taking off her sock and she rolls over onto her stomach shifting up the table so that just her foot is hanging off the edge. You grab lotion and rub it into your hands before placing your hands slowly onto Jessie’s leg. You take a few passes of your hands over her leg before starting to dig into the muscle. It doesn't take you long to find the knot that is resting in her leg, focusing on it. You feel Jessie clench her muscle and slightly pull her leg away. You quickly lighten the pressure you were putting on her and you look at the direction of her face. You see a small grimace across her face.
“Are you good?” The last thing you want is to hurt the captain of the team, that probably wouldn't go over well with anyone.
“Yeah it's just sore. I’ve had some previous injury with it.” You knew that, you knew about most of the players' previous injuries, they were publicly announced anyway and you liked to keep up with your mom on what she was doing at work.
“Sorry.” Not sure if it's appropriate to apologize, you do it anyway.
“Oh don’t be, it’s never been a huge injury so I’m lucky. Unless you were saying sorry about the soreness, but then don’t worry, it’s sort of a good hurt I guess.” She stumbles a bit with their words, looking back at you over her shoulder. With her confirmation that the pain wasn’t bad, you return your pressure to her leg, working your fingers deep into her skin.
“Is she doing alright Jessie?” The voice of your Mom comes from behind you, you turn to see her walking up toward you, finished with the other athletes.
“She might be better than you.” Jessie laughs joking with your mom. “No but seriously she's doing great.”
“I taught her well then.” Your mom gives you a pat on the shoulder before walking away and moving to a desk to do some paperwork.
You finish up with Jessie’s calf, letting her know she should be good to go, the knot being worked out. She stands up with a smile and thanks you for the help. She uses your name when she thanks you which causes a small blush to come across your cheeks. You can't keep your eyes off of her as she walks out to head to the field. When she turns the corner and out of your sight you shake your head, trying to clear your mind as you feel the small childhood crush come crawling back up.
You clean up the table you had been working on, putting the lotion away and wiping down the table with sanitizer. Moving over to where your mom was working, she was completing reports for each of the players who had come in for treatment, she passed them to you to file once she’s completed with them. When the paperwork is done you follow her out to the pitch. You find yourself sitting on the bench, watching as the players work through drills, your mom occasionally going to chat with the coaching staff or other physios.
You couldn't help but watch Jessie, watching how effortlessly she made moving the ball look, how much power and control she had on the ball, it was fascinating. On a couple of occasions you found yourself admiring her physique a little too much, watching as her muscles twitch with every movement. You also started to notice she was favoring her weight on her right leg the longer practice went on.
“Mom.” You get your mom’s attention, not wanting to make the call yourself on if Jessie’s movements were unusual. “Does Fleming usually favor her right leg?”
“What?” She moves over closer to you, looking out to the field in the direction of Jessie. You both watch as Jessie takes another pass, moving upfield with the ball. “Oh, no she doesn't, I mean she prefers her right foot, but not like that.”
At the next water break you see your mom sitting in front of Jessie, hand on her calf, you watch as they talk about your mom maneuvering her leg. When the team moves back to the field, the players and coaches bring out their kids, letting them join in on games. Jessie stays sitting, now talking with your mom and the coach. She then stands up, your mom following her in your direction.
“Can you take her inside? I want to be overcautious and treat her for a calf strain, heat pack, use the TENS unit, then have her roll out, ice and tape.” Your mom throws a laundry list of tasks at you.
“Of course.” You stand up, grabbing your water and phone from next to you before heading in the direction of the physio room.
“Sorry you're getting stuck with me again.” You apologize to Jessie, trying to make small talk with the girl and also hoping she doesn’t feel like she’s getting stuck with just the student again.
“Oh, I don't mind. I wasn't really joking earlier when I said you did a better job than your mom.” She gives you a smile, you feel the flutter in your stomach. Her praise is nice, but it's the smile that she's giving you that makes your stomach flip, it’s gentle and friendly. “Don't take that the wrong way, your mom is excellent, just it was different, you were more thorough maybe, I’m not sure, it was just different.” Jessie rambles.
“That's probably because I’m more nervous about messing up than they are.” You’re honest, you were doing everything to the exact standard, following the expectations you had been taught in class, yet to develop your own style.
“You’re nervous?” She seems surprised.
“I mean, wouldn’t you be, being brought into a professional sports team and being asked to help that team's captain while you're still a student? I mean I guess you’re usually level headed, penalty machine and all.” Thankfully you have half a brain to not throw in that the captain being attractive was definitely adding to your nerves.
“Oh believe me, I was nervous for those penalties but I’ve always thought nerves are good, they show you care. How much more school do you have?” She continues with the small talk.
“Just another semester. And then licensing tests, but just a semester of school.”
“That's exciting, do you know what you are going to do after that?” You make your way into the training room, holding the door open for Jessie to walk through.
“I don’t know, probably work at some secondary school to start, work my way up to bigger teams, I'll have to see what options I have. Go ahead and sit up on the table.” You point at the table at the end of the room as you move over to where the heat packs were stored. Jessie is sitting on the table, watching you when you turn around. You lift her foot, placing the heat pack on the table before placing her calf down on top of it.
“Is it still just sore or is it more sharp now?” Turning the conversation back to a more professional topic away from the small talk about yourself.
“Just sore, feels like a sore muscle.”
“You know, it's nice to actually meet you finally.” When you give her a confused look, she continues “I just mean your mom talks a lot about you.”
“Oh that's embarrassing.” You regret saying it as soon as it comes out of your mouth, you loved your mom, you know you shouldn’t be embarrassed about her talking about you.
“No, it's actually really sweet, I hope my parents talk about me even half as much as your mom talks about you. She’s so proud of you. You're her world.”
“Yeah, I know, it was always just the two of us. I know she misses me when I’m at school, I feel bad leaving her sometimes.” You look down, then realize youre probably giving way too much information to someone who likely doesn't care. “Sorry, I don't mean to talk about my personal stuff.”
“No problem, I don't mind, it's nice talking to you,” she quickly corrects her sentence “to someone closer to my age.”
You pull up a stool and sit with Jessie while she uses the heat pack. When the heat pack starts to cool off you slide over and start digging around for the TENS unit your mom recommended. When you’ve opened your third cabinet and had no luck finding it Jessie speaks up.
“They keep the TENS over there.” She points across the room to a different cabinet. You push up off the stool and move over to where she pointed, opening a drawer and finding it quickly.
“Sorry, I obviously don’t know where anything is, I didn't have time to really get acclimated this morning.” You feel embarrassed, already feeling inferior being the student but now being clueless and having to have Jessie tell you where everything is.
“That’s alright.” She reassures you. You move back and attach the pads onto her calf, turning the machine on low and handing her the controls and tell her to leave it on for 10 minutes. She messes with the controls of a second before setting down the remote and slightly leaning back, her arms propped behind her. Not knowing what to do with yourself you stand up and move over to the other tables where rolls of tape, bandaids, scissors, and various other tools used by the trainers are askew. You tidy up, finding where things belong through your own searching.
“So what do you do outside of school?” You had gotten used to the silence that Jessie’s voice breaks.
“Well school takes up most of my time, I wish I could travel more, I miss going to new places, seeing new things. But unfortunately school turns me into a pretty boring person.”
“Maybe you’ll get a travel experience this summer eh?” You turn at her, you’re assuming she’s implying going with your mom to Paris for the Olympics. “Your mom mentioned she wanted you to come with the team.”
“Yeah she said something about it to me, I mean I’d have to have her boss, Mark, pick me, I think there’s a few people they’re looking at for the trip. She thinks it’ll be a good experience for me for future jobs. I know it would look good on a resume and all but I also don’t want to get the opportunity just because my mom is here.”
“If it means anything you have my vote, the other people have been boring.” Jessie quickly says. “Sorry that’s not what I meant. I just meant, you’ve been the best one they’ve tried out. You care the most, at least it seems like you do. Plus you’re easy to talk to, the rest were too caught up on work, some of them stressed me out just being around them. And no one else was as observant. Your mom mentioned you were the one to see I was putting my weight off center, that’s why it’s important to have fresh eyes.”
“Yeah, I just happened to be watching, I get told I’m observant a lot.” You move your hands to take the TENS unit off of her gently peeling the pads from her skin. You move to grab her the foam ball across the room, tossing it in her direction. Jessie tried to catch it, it bounces off her hands, into her face and then onto the floor.
“Oh my god sorry, I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” You throw your hands in her direction apologizing. Moving quickly across the room you pick up the ball where it had rolled before gently placing it in her hand.
“Nope, that was my fault. There’s a reason I play a foot sport.” She laughs. Her laugh is beautiful, it fills the room momentarily. It makes you feel light inside.
Just as she moves to the floor to begin rolling out her calf, the training room door opens and in comes the loud crowd of her teammates. They move in all directions across the room, some moving to the ice bath, some moving to grab heat packs. Some move to take off tape, tossing it in the trash. It’s loud, conversations in every direction and you’re quickly swept away, your arm being pulled by your mom as she moves you over to where the ice cooler was. You’re instructed to make ice bags for the players who want them and help them wrap the ice wherever they want it. It’s an easy task but it takes you away from Jessie, no longer having the quiet privacy of the training room.
You wrap arms and legs and shoulders and backs and feet with ice. You can’t help but keep glancing at Jessie, she was still rolling her calf, chatting with her teammates as they walked by. On a couple instances you caught her looking back at you, she’d give a quick smile before looking away. You finish the last player requesting ice and when you look up Jessie is now sitting on the table with Mark, he’s taping her calf. A small part of you feels jealous, which is insanely stupid you tell yourself, she’s his player not yours, he’s the head trainer, you’re not even one, it should be him doing the work.
Only a few minutes later, Jessie hops off the table, giving you a wave and a shout of thanks before leaving the room. Only staff remained, the rest of the players on their way home for the day. You finish cleaning up, asking your Mom a couple of times where everything belongs, making sure nothing gets put away in the wrong place.
It feels like time has flown by in the eight hours that you have been at the training center, before you know it you’re headed out to the car with your mom, the same way you came in this morning.
“Mark wanted to extend the offer for you to spend the rest of the summer here, and for the Olympics. He’s going to give you a call tomorrow, but he gave me a heads up. It can probably count as some clinical work for school, he said he’ll just have to get the paperwork sorted. Something about high praises from a certain team captain.” Your mom nudges you with her shoulder. You look at her and you can tell she’s being suggestive with her wording.
“What?” Your cheeks begin to flush slightly. “You’re the one who kept sticking her with me.”
“I know, I also know you had a little crush when you were younger.” She teases. You just roll your eyes, not wanting to give yourself away.
“Oh my god mom that was years ago, she’s not my type.” It was true, your dating history was littered with blonde preppy girls with terrible personalities, quite literally the opposite of Jessie. Hoping that fact would help your argument that you didn’t still have a crush on Jessie and it seemed to as your mom dropped the topic.
“I know honey, I’m only kidding you. You can drive, I’m tired.” She places the keys in your hand. You don’t mind driving, you turn back looking at the facility, realizing you could be spending your summer everyday here didn’t sound like too bad of an idea.
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16. BEDRIDDEN
I swear I tried to make this more hopeful but yeah, apparently angst just keeps popping up into my fics.
....
The heart monitor provided the rhythm. Ventilator completed the soundtrack.
Tony rolled his head, trying to ease the knots open and sighed heavily.
Peter lied on the bed, his eyes taped shut, tube in his mouth connected to a ventilator. His chest rose up and down with the cool air. Countless lines and wires invaded his body, Tony had half a mind to rip them all off but the rational part of his brain knew they were all needed.
The door opened.
“Hey,” May whispered with a tired voice, Tony gave a small smile but it died fast. He accepted the take away cup of coffee.
“How is he?”
“The same,” The man shrugged and took a sip. He wondered which would happen first: Peter waking up or him getting an ulcer from the stress and poor diet. “The nurse sucked off the mucus from the breathing tube.”
“Good,” The woman nodded and took a seat. “His vitals?”
“Nothing much.”
“Did you read to him?”
“Yeah,” Tony pointed at the latest issue of EMPIRE. “We got to page 78 before my voice gave up. Then I put on some music, our lab soundtrack.”
May gave a small laugh: “I saw a dream last night where we put on Another One Bites The Dust and Peter woke up with a head bang.”
Tony chuckled at the thought and the memory of the kid doing the exact thing in the lab. Peter had smacked his head on the counter and sported an impressive bruise on his forehead for the rest of the day.
……
Tony was dozing, almost asleep on an awkward position. He had considered joining the kid on the bed but with his luck, he would most likely kill the boy by blocking the IV.
Peter’s body was cold, extra heat would not do any harm. He needed to speak to the doctor about it.
“Mr Stark.”
The man turned his head to the door where a nurse was standing. His chair was practically stopping anyone from entering the room.
“Would you like to help? I’m moving Peter into another position so he doesn’t get bed sores.”
Tony nodded and stood up. He walked to Peter who was on his bed, his life depending on the machines that provided him air and nutrients.
“Hey there, Pete,” He stroked the boy’s hair. Peter’s response was mechanical puff as air escaped his lungs. “We’re doing little stretching today.”
The nurse gently pushed Peter off his back and Tony maneuvered him onto his right side. The woman positioned pillows to keep him in place.
“This seems fine,” She checked the monitors and wires, Tony had eyes only for his boy. He had hoped, unrealistically and against everything he knew, that the change would jolt Peter out of his coma.
The woman gave him sad smile.
“He will get better. Peter is progressing every day.”
“Not fast enough for me,” Tony shook his head.
What if this would become his normal?
….
“Hello, kid,” Tony gave his usual greeting, set a cup of coffee on the bedside table and bent over to kiss the boy’s forehead. “Do you know what day today is?”
The table was filled with get well cards and dead flowers. The man frowned, he needed to replace them.
“Today is sports day,” He took a seat and rolled up his sleeves. “You love going to the gym. It is not possible today so we need to improvise.”
A physiotherapist had come up with regime that would prevent muscle loss. Tony wanted to cry at how frail his boy was starting to look. Despite regularly moving Peter’s limbs and rubbing his muscles, his toned body was getting thin and weak.
“In,” He moved the boy’s knee towards his chest. “And out,” He stretched out the leg, mindful of the catheter line. “That’s it.”
When legs were done, he sat down and began to work on Peter’s left arm.
“Never say I did nothing for you.”
Peter’s body inhaled.
“I’m sorry,” Tony shook his head as he fisted and relaxed Peter’s hand. “You are always so grateful for every little thing I do.”
The boy slept on.
“Remember the first time you spent the night here, at the Tower? I ordered us pizza, one for each. I had no idea you needed more food to keep with that bottomless pit of yours,” The man chuckled. “FRIDAY woke me up and told you were in distress. You were just starving and dared not go to the kitchen, fearing I would get mad at you. Remember what happened then?”
Peter’s chest rose and fell.
“That’s right! We had our own little feast. I made you pasta and grilled cheese sandwiches in the middle of the night. You were practically in tears and telling me “No, Mr Stark, I can make do with just a yogurt, honestly””
That was his boy, used to so little any act of kindness made his world turn upside down.
….
“Good morning,” Tony opened the door with some difficulty, his hands were practically full of flowers.
“How are we doing today?” He set the fresh flowers down and began the morose task of taking the dead plants from the vases. He had been certain they would not need to replace them, Peter would certainly wake up before that. He had half a mind to keep them but the thought flew away as the petals and leaves crumbled into his fingers.
“Let’s play a little game today,” Tony opened the paper wrap and took out a bouquet of white flowers. “Try to guess what it is. I know you love biology but honestly, I think you need a little crash course in plants.”
He placed the gift under the boy’s nose. Tony had chosen the flowers with the strongest yet sweetest aroma. Yes, he knew Peter was not breathing himself but maybe the scent would wake some part of his brain and help him escape coma.
“This one,” He opened another packet after putting the first batch into a vase,” is my personal favorite. You need to tell me your favorite flowers, I can bring them if I didn’t get it right.”
Peter slept on. His nose didn’t twitch as the petals tickled his skin.
“Try it,” Tony opened the boy’s hand and guided it to the flower. “Feels a little rough, right?”
He moved Peter’s fingers along the petals and leaves. There was no reaction and Tony was growing desperate. He had half a mind to start pinching Peter in all places to help him gain awareness.
“Then,” He opened the last bouquet ,”is the last one, a cliché but it still works.”
Tony had never enjoyed the smell of roses but they were standard, obligation even.
“I know you know red roses mean love,” He watched his boy, eyes glistening. The situation was getting too much. For weeks they had hoped and waited, prayed and wished for a sign, some change. Uncertainty was the worst. According to doctors, there was no knowing how long Peter was going to sleep. There was so much they didn’t know about Peter.
“I wish something would happen,” Tony whispered. “It pains me to see you wither away here. I just-“ He turned his eyes to the ceiling as he tried to control his emotions. “I just wish for a sign, of good or bad. So I- so we would know what is going on.”
The ventilator and heart monitor were the only sound in the room.
“I don’t know where you are. Are you in heaven? Is this a limbo? Or are you just sleeping? Do you know what is happening? Are you aware?” He looked around. “Are you here with me now?”
Peter gave no response. Tony sniffed, placed the roses on another vase and sighed heavily. He rubbed his eyes and moved his hand grasp Peter’s.
“If you hear me, kid, I need to tell you this,” He stroked the knuckles with his thumb; Peter’s skin was cool, almost cold. “You are so loved. You have no idea how much we all love you. We want you back and will do anything to get you back.”
“But,” Tony gulped and stroked the boy’s hair with other hand. “I- I know you suffer sometimes. I know it is difficult. So-“ His voice nearly died, he could not believe what he was about to say. “If you want to leave, you may. I- I give you permission to give up but I so wish you wouldn’t . You- it gets better- but if this is some self-inflicted limbo then- you may let go.”
He paused.
He expected the heart monitor to go crazy and eventually flat line.
But nothing happened.
“Oh thank Jesus,” Tony breathed out after tense waiting. Tears spilled from his eyes and he hid his face into Peter’s stomach. If the boy had died- they would have had two bodies to take care of.
“I’m not ready to give up on you, Pete,” He turned his head so he could look into Peter’s face. “You may sleep as long as you want. I promise, I’ll be waiting for you right here. I won’t go anywhere.”
Tony closed his eyes, lulled into exhaustion by the sound of Peter’s heart beating.
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I’ve Kegel’d to Death & Still Leak Urine!
This from any one of a number of patients who come to see me in my clinical practice. Kegels or Pelvic Floor Muscle Exercises are touted as the "cure all" for leakage of urine. But are they?
After leaking urine for an average of 7 years, you've probably decided to speak to your doctor about leaking urine with cough, sneeze or exercise. Or maybe you know where every bathroom is in your daily travels.
Your doctor stares blankly and either says, "Can you put up with it?" Of course you think. I am woman. I delivered a 12 lb baby......naturally. I've breastfed so many babies, I can hang by my nipples from any suspension bridge using nothing more than a clothespin. Or I've raised teenage sons.
Can I handle it?
So you either get a "atta girl" or if you're one of the lucky ones, you get a referral to a pelvic floor physiotherapist. And so begins your journey down Leaky Lane. You expect a cure. You go. You Kegel. You Breathe. You Kegel Some More. You even out your chest. You Kegel More. Your pelvic floor is tight. You loosen it. You Kegel more.
YOU STILL LEAK URINE.
Many women are frustrated after 10-20 visits or more to a pelvic floor physiotherapist with no change in their bladder leakage.
The truth is that Kegels or Pelvic Floor Muscle Exercises don't work for everyone all the time. And if you have not seen any change in your leakage after 2-3 visits to your pelvic floor physiotherapist, it's time to seek alternative solutions (this from a physiotherapist colleague of mine).
What is little known is that there are a number of treatment options available. But first a few facts:
Leakage of urine is never normal. Never. I mean never.
Diagnose is Key.
There are other health care professionals that treat leakage of urine from Nurse Continence Advisors to Obstetrician/Gynaecologists to Uro-Gynaecologists.
AND there are a number of treatment options available to you. Good bladder health is critical.
A Bladder Diary has a 30% placebo effect.
If you have urge or Overactive Bladder or OAB (urgency, frequency and nocturia);
Drink enough water based fluids so your urine is clear 90% of the time.
Distribute fluids evenly throughout the day.
Don't drink after 7 pm.
Sit with your feet elevated above the level of your heart for 30 minutes 2 hours before bed. This increases peripheral vascular return and you will void a larger amount before bed.
Urge Suppression or Bladder Retraining.
Treat your constipation (water, psyillium fibre, fruits, veggies and a squatty potty)
Low dose localized estrogen may help with leaking while coughing or with urge. GSM is a condition common at the menopause that involves leakage of urine and vaginal dryness.
Impressa is an OTC that may help some women with leaking during cough, sneeze and exercise.
A Pessary is a medical grade silicone device that a woman is fitted for and is inserted into the vagina and either remains in place or is used during exercise. And most of them can be worn during sex. Because guess what, a fair number of women leak at orgasm. Yes. Yes. Yes. O-dear.
The BTL Emsella (aka Kegel Throne) delivers 11,200 Kegels in 28 minutes. 6 treatments are required. You sit on the throne (finally, ladies, where we belong) fully clothed. It's rather dignified.
There's also minimally invasive procedures from injections beneath the mid urethra to taping.
A Viveve or Radiofrequency treatment may help some women but the science is scarce. Some doctors who are more interested in your money than bladder management might tell you you need a Viveve (radiofrequency) prior to the surgery to ensure healthy tissues. There is no evidence for this. Don't be fooled.
For OAB, medication may be warranted but the side effects are pretty severe so my recommendation would be to work on conservative management
The point is pelvic floor physiotherapy is one treatment worthy of a try. But it won't take long to learn if it works or not. Moveon.com
Maureen McGrath RN is a Nurse Continence Advisor and Sexual Health Educator in private practice. She is Chair of the BC Chapter of Nurse Continence Advisors. She also hosts the Sunday Night Health Show on Corus Radio Network in Western Canada.
I’ve Kegel’d to Death & Still Leak Urine! published first on https://spanishflyhealth.tumblr.com/
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