I met my physical therapist in August of 2011, after over 2 years of enduring either no sex life, or a very painful one.
“I know her. Oh my goodness! I know her! Maybe she won’t recognize me…”
Yes. The woman who was going to treat me, sat 3 rows over from me in church every Sunday morning. I wanted to crawl in a hole and never come out. Dr. W smiled, seeming to understand my discomfort, and went to work at putting me at ease with her.
We sat and talked, she asked me questions and I answered them. She then wanted to perform an examination. She had me lay on the table and practice some deep breathing and relaxation exercises. She then proceeded with the examination, all the while trying to keep me from freaking out (which I was on the verge of) she then had me do something that I have always known how to do, but never did it while trying to insert anything. She had me kegel. I clenched my muscles and found that when I released, she was able to insert her finger with minimal pain. She then did a series of finger sweeps and judged just how sever my condition was.
When she was finished, we talked about a course of action. She wanted me to see her twice a week for these exercises, as well as changing some of my habits at home:
No more baths, showers only.
lots and lots and lots of water
100% cotton panties (I think my husband took issue with this bc I wasn’t allowed to wear those sexy little numbers that he loved so much)
I had to do AT LEAST 100 kegels a day. This doesn’t sound that hard, but it actually was. I made up a little game to remember to do them. Every time I saw the color green, I would do a kegal (there are a lot of green things out there!) The goal of this was to tire the muscles in my vagina so they wouldn’t spasm as hard and lock up when I tried to insert anything.
I had to (I can’t make this stuff up) hold myself apart whenever i was at home. If I was watching tv, or anything else, I had to be sitting on my feet, spreading myself… *sigh* (go ahead and laugh, I did) – I think my husband forgave her for making me wear cotton panties, this made up for it.
When I was driving or riding in the car, I had to sit on a tennis ball. This was constantly keeping me “open”
She knew what she was doing. She was well educated and seemed to understand exactly what to do and what steps to take. She explained to me that she had successfully treated several women with this condition, and she had high hopes for me. It was the first time in years I felt any hope.