When pain is invisible, it is easy for it to be underestimated or ignored altogether. Filming my day helped me feel visible, and felt like an important move in my advocacy journey.
A poem about how pain can feel like it takes over your identity. Written in a flare. Any Spoonies who can relate, please make yourself known in the comments!
For me, every month is pelvic pain awareness month. Nevertheless, I thought I'd honour this by completing the 'Spoonie' blogging tag and carry on my 'Diary of a Broken Vagina' series. Prepare to know me a lot better.
WARNING. DO NOT READ THIS ARTICLE IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH ABOUT FEMALE BODIES AND/OR DON'T WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT MINE AND/OR ARE MY DAD.
In my first meeting with the Women’s Health Physiotherapist, she did an internal examination. In the second meeting, she forgot my name. No, she couldn’t remember my name, but she’d had her fingers inside my vaginal tract. Welcome to the weirdness of pelvic floor therapy.