Aging with dignity. I used to think it was a necessary and even admirable goal. As best I could, when I was with my elderly parents, I tried to help them maintain a sense of normalcy, of “appropriateness.”  Especially when we were in public. I wanted the people we encountered to view them as they’d been in their prime. I think all of us kids tried to support them in that way.

In their later years, a lot of their filters fell by the wayside, and things that once seemed to matter to them no longer did.

All our face-saving efforts turned out to be more for us, because it appeared our folks just didn’t care any more.

And then, before I realized it, I found myself in that same boat, trying to navigate my own aging-related issues. I was trying desperately to manage it all while remaining my cool self and holding on to my own dignity.  

Dealing with it

I wanted to keep my personal issues of physical decline to myself. I was too embarrassed to mention certain concerns to my own family, even though one of my two sons works in healthcare. Nor did I bring it up to my primary care physician.

For a long time, I just dealt with things as best I could.

When I was a child, intimate matters were never mentioned publicly. Even the word “pregnant” was considered inappropriate in many circles. 

But in today’s world, anything goes. Myriad personal topics are laid out on television and social media.  There are ads for all kinds of feminine products and medicines to treat every imaginable ailment. Commercials address various digestive issues, erectile dysfunction, and even something referred to as “bent carrot” disease.

That got me to thinking. If all these other conditions are out in the open and getting attention, maybe I could muster the courage to talk to my doctor and get some help, too.

Speak up

I finally mentioned my bladder urgency and control issues to her. I told her that laughing, coughing, or sneezing could trigger leakage. Drinking my morning coffee often resulted in multiple trips to pee. And if I was leaving the house, the bathroom was always my last stop before heading out as well as the first stop at my destination—even if it was just a few miles away.

She listened attentively then referred me to a physical therapist. And I had to wonder, “A physical therapist, seriously?”  

Unlike any physical therapist I’d previously met, this one specializes in women’s pelvic health. Who knew such a profession existed! I certainly didn’t!

I am a different person since I began working with the physical therapist. She’s taught me a lot, and she’s helped me feel empowered. Now I realize you don’t have to just accept all the aging changes. There are real things—simple things—you can do to reclaim your better quality of life status. Since I’ve had my recent epiphany, I feel freer—lighter, much less weighed down by image or pride.

I’ve gained a lot of helpful knowledge, but more than that, I’ve adjusted my attitude on the whole “aging-with-dignity” thing. 

As dignity evolves

I’ve remembered we’re all just precious souls here having a physical experience. And, if we’re fortunate enough to grow old, we’re all going to deal with problems of deteriorating bodies. Bodies, like cars and other machinery, naturally start to break down over time.

My perspective of dignity has evolved. It was once a facade I hid behind as I aimed for perfection.

Though no two women are the same, when we show up with our vulnerable and authentic selves, we can step confidently into our feelings of self-worth when facing challenges of declining bodies. Dignity can then rise to a whole new level.

Our journeys are all different, but when any of our life experiences might help others along their way, we’re at our best when we offer to share.

After all, we are one people, and our purpose is to love and to nurture one another in all the ways we can.

And so I put aside my pride and any residual embarrassment to offer my latest experience. I put it out there in the hopes that other women might learn and benefit also.

I recently learned that other cultures routinely educate women on pelvic health when they give birth. 

So, why haven’t we been doing it here in the U.S.? Here the topic seems to have been a well-kept secret. In this country, why do we just encourage people to buy products to cope with the issue rather than address the concern and work to correct or improve it? 

The time has come to change all that. We need to get the word out, to shout it from the mountaintops. We need to educate women of all ages. 

Expert advice

If this is a concern of yours, don’t hesitate to contact your doctor for a referral to pelvic floor PT.  In the meantime, you can learn more by checking out these Instagram links:  

   *  the.vagina.whisperer—Dr. Sara Reardon

   *  tightlippedorg (also a podcast)

   * thedowntheredoc—Dr. Marcy

   * carriepagliano—Dr. Carrie Pagliano

We are here to uplift our sisters—them and their pelvic floors, too!    

Amen! Or maybe in this case I should say, “Ah-women!”

P.S. And those sons of mine? They’re both up to speed on my health concerns—all of them! Even the one who doesn’t work in the medical field and would probably prefer to remain uninformed. I think they need to know, especially because their existence most likely contributed to my condition. Plus, I think they—and all men—need to be aware of and sensitive to women’s issues that have been hidden for far too long.