The crew had gathered once again in the wee hours of dawn at their favorite coffee stop to fortify themselves for the day with caffeine and female support.  Pinky’s eyes looked puffy and barely opened, a good sign to steer clear of the usual complaints or she would be on a roll until noon.  Ruby, the morning person, in her usual chipper form started the conversation as Annie and Pinky were settling into the overstuffed chairs with their respective caffeinated concoctions.

“Hey Louise, I saw you struggling with your umbrella coming into the hospital the other morning.  Were you limping?” Ruby queried.

Louise and Pinky exchanged knowing glances.  Annie, who never misses a thing, chimed in, “What?  What’s up you two?”

“Is there a story here?”  Ruby’s nurse-nose twitched. She pressured, “Do tell, are you OK, Louise?

“Well, alright,” Louise conceded.  “Yes, I was going into the hospital for an early morning meeting.  It was just one of those days.  You see, I decided that I wanted to dress a little cute and flirty, you know, put on a nice spring skirt, one of those flowery patterned ones that come just above the knees.  I hate panty hose (the other three nodded in silent agreement), so I put on my thigh highs to give my legs a shade better than the pasty winter white.  I have to say I was pretty proud of myself.  I think I looked pretty darned cute.”  Everyone could imagine this was true.  Louise was the youngest of the four and she still paid good attention to her figure.  She could be quite cute and vivacious.

Pinky secretly thought, she also wasn’t having to fight the ravages of a slowing metabolism and the hormone rollercoaster of menopause that betray most women’s figures in their late forties or early fifties.  Clearly her mood hadn’t yet improved with half a cup of latte.

“So, of course, I could only find a parking spot on the fifth floor of the parking deck,” continued Louise with her tale.  “I was halfway across the deck to the stairwell when I felt a spring of tension release in my right thigh.  Rut Row, I thought, I better take the elevator instead of the stairs so I don’t aggravate the problem by excessive movement.”

You would be a stair climber, Pinky silently mused to herself. Go ahead, her private thoughts continued, point out how fit you are.  Even going down the stairs my old joints crack so loudly that people nearby look to see if pieces of concrete are breaking off the parking deck.  She sucked on her coffee more petulantly. 

“Well, as you can imagine, the thigh high problem just worsens as I cross the street to the entrance,” Louise goes on.  “Just as I get to the patient drop off zone, POP goes the left thigh high!” She now stands up and demonstrates her dilemma.  “So, of course it is also raining and I am trying to balance my purse, the umbrella, (she bends in half and leans to her right to demonstrate) and two rapidly cascading thigh high stockings.  I grab the middle of my skirt near the center of my thighs to try to prevent the plunge, (hand swings down to show how she clutched the material in desperation) but just then my purse slides off balance and I nearly fall over trying to catch it. Now, the umbrella is askance, permitting the rain to melt my carefully coiffed do!  Then, to my additional horror, I look up to see that cute parking attendant guy watching the whole thing and smiling at me! ‘Wardrobe malfunction?’ he asks.  What can a girl do?  So, I raise my head proudly, mumble yes, and scurry knock-kneed and bent over into the lower level of the hospital where I can regain my pride and my composure in the ladies rest room.”

At this point tears of laughter are streaming down the faces of the other three.  Louise is enjoying the merriment.  What can you do but laugh at yourself in such a situation?  Annie can barely breathe because she is laughing so hard.  Even Pinky is snorting with glee.

“Oh, stop laughing you guys!” Pinky exclaims.  “You’re going to make me wet myself!”

“I already have!” confesses Annie.  The ladies burst out in another round of guffaws.  “No, really,” Annie chokes between snickers. “I may just have to go home a do a quick change.”  No one lets the imagination wander there.  “This is becoming more of a problem when I laugh, or even cough.”

“You know,” offers Ruby, “ you can get help for that.”

“Yeah right,” says Annie.  “If you think I’m gonna have some surgeon go in through my lower parts and tie up my bladder to my chin, you’ve got another thought comin’” The famous wrist flap punctuates her statement with the clear indication that this is just not happening.

“No, seriously, it’s not that complicated,” chimes in Louise. “I have actually worked with the physical therapists on some other issues and they were telling me that they have learned how to teach pelvic floor exercises.  With a few lessons, many women can successfully reduce that little leakage issue.  Really, you should talk to your doctor and then call Erin or Leslie in the Physical Therapy department.” Click here for Oaklawn Physical Rehabilitation Center information

Hm, thought Pinky, if fit and fiddle folks like Louise might have this problem, maybe it wasn’t just for the over fifty crowd. Pinky privately considered how she could set up a referral to this service.

“I just always learn something new when I hang out with you gals,” Annie exclaims.  No hand flap this time. She seems to be genuinely thankful that she has learned of a non-surgical hope for her quick trigger bladder issue.  “Maybe a little less coffee would also help.”

“NAH!” they all speak out in unison.  Time to face the day’s travails.