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PMSL: Or How I Literally Pissed Myself Laughing and Survived the Last Taboo to Tell the Tale
More than one-third of women are living with urinary incontinence. It's time to talk about it.
PMSL is one woman's story, providing a razor sharp perspective from the sharp end of a medical issue that affects 1 in 3 women but that remains shrouded in taboo and social stigma, an untold story of a common condition. It's heartfelt, raw and funny--but crucially it is the first memoir to look at incontinence, lifting the lid on what anyone affected can do to navigate their way through the wet-knickered wilderness and what we can learn about ourselves, individually, and as a society cowed by our shamed bodies and desperate for information and control.
When Luce Brett became incontinent at the age of 30 after the birth of her first son, she felt her life had ended. She also felt scared, upset, embarrassed, itchy, bewildered, dirty, shocked, broken, desolate, angry and ashamed. How the hell had she ended up there, the youngest woman in the waiting room at the incontinence clinic?
Charting Luce's journey to (relative) health and sanity PMSL also offers practical advice about how and where women can find help and support, with a final chapter directing readers to useful links and organisations.
It's not good enough for women to be told that post-birth they should expect their lives to be diminished along with their pelvic floor function, but to date no one has been brave enough to come forward and break the silence in such an acutely personal and public way.
PMSL is one woman's story, providing a razor sharp perspective from the sharp end of a medical issue that affects 1 in 3 women but that remains shrouded in taboo and social stigma, an untold story of a common condition. It's heartfelt, raw and funny--but crucially it is the first memoir to look at incontinence, lifting the lid on what anyone affected can do to navigate their way through the wet-knickered wilderness and what we can learn about ourselves, individually, and as a society cowed by our shamed bodies and desperate for information and control.
When Luce Brett became incontinent at the age of 30 after the birth of her first son, she felt her life had ended. She also felt scared, upset, embarrassed, itchy, bewildered, dirty, shocked, broken, desolate, angry and ashamed. How the hell had she ended up there, the youngest woman in the waiting room at the incontinence clinic?
Charting Luce's journey to (relative) health and sanity PMSL also offers practical advice about how and where women can find help and support, with a final chapter directing readers to useful links and organisations.
It's not good enough for women to be told that post-birth they should expect their lives to be diminished along with their pelvic floor function, but to date no one has been brave enough to come forward and break the silence in such an acutely personal and public way.
- GenresNonfictionMemoir
256 pages, Hardcover
First published June 25, 2020
23 people are currently reading
178 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews
June 29, 2020
Refreshingly open and honest and had me laughing and crying with the author in equal measures. Loved it.
September 7, 2020
Everyone should read this. Funny, heartbreaking, moving, enraging, brilliantly written and completely unputdownable.
July 15, 2020
What an extraordinary book. Honest, heart-breaking, funny and informative. Luce narrates her experience of incontinence with breathtaking openness. This book is fascinating on so many levels and brilliantly written. Read it.
October 12, 2020
1 in 3 women. Think about that for a moment. That is a massive number of women affected, and yet this is the FIRST book I have come across about this issue. The stigma of incontinence is so pervasive that it is just not talked about. I’m far from immune from the taboo: I was worried posting this review that people might see it and think “Oh God, is Ellie incontinent?! Why’s she reading that book?” I fall into the trap of making jokes, of the wry comments about being nearly forty and having had two babies so of course my pelvic floor is not what it was. Ha ha, we all get it. But those in-jokes, which women smile knowingly at, possibly delighting in making the menfolk uncomfortable, are about as far as the discussion goes. Until this brilliant book.
Luce’s story is by turns heart-breaking, horrifying, funny, fierce, and above all, really, really well-told. She has been through so much, and she does not shy away from any of it here: the feelings, the pain, the procedures and operations, everything is laid out for us. Her voice is so strong; her personality leaps off every page: burning intelligence, searing honesty, absolutely filthy humour and plenty of swearing. The sense of connection with the reader is so powerful and intimate: the trust she places in us by sharing her story creates a bond. It feels far more like chatting with a mate than reading a medical memoir.
Luce is an incredibly talented writer. The journey she goes on as she negotiates her way through the traumatic, distressing world of incontinence is described through vivid flashbacks, and her personal efforts to reconstruct her story function as a kind of anchor through the mayhem and chaos of such difficult times. The complexity of her story is handled with skill and nuance – she interrogates herself with sharp intelligence and deep self-knowledge as the narrative progresses. She writes so well about the realities of depression and PTSD – even if you have been fortunate enough never to have experienced any of the medical problems that this book describes, you should read it to understand better what it is to suffer from mental health issues. So much in this book hit a nerve with me, from her fury at the acceptance of post-partum injuries as just part of a woman’s lot, to her frustration at the deafening wall of silence surrounding so many ‘women’s issues’. This book definitely ignited my ‘fem rage,’ to borrow a phrase from Luce: to the point where as I ranted to my lovely husband about the sheer anger I felt for Luce and for all of us, he cowered (sensibly) under the duvet.
This book is so powerful. It has reminded me of so many times in my life when I felt utterly bewildered and alone: when I was a young woman desperately trying to find a form of birth control that didn’t send me totally loopy; when I was finally diagnosed with depression aged 30 and looked back over the wasted years of thinking I was just broken beyond repair; when, about 2 weeks after giving birth to my daughter, I lay next to her on my bed, both of us on toddler pee pads having ‘nappy free time,’ my stitches possibly infected but too scared to call the midwife; miscarrying in the bath tub at 11 weeks; three months after my second baby being convinced that I’d have to wear pads forever as I leaked every time I coughed. All of these experiences made me feel helpless, useless, on the outside of some great secret about ‘how to be a woman’ that no one was letting me in on.
And what helped, and still helps, is TALKING ABOUT IT. This is what Luce knows, this is what she is doing here, she is busting open the conversation. Progress is being made in so many areas because women are speaking up and refusing to let us all suffer in silence, and this is an absolutely vital book, because it starts a conversation about a subject that seems beyond words, and lets the all-important dialogue begin. In the book, Luce talks about not wanting to be one of ‘those women’ – ‘that woman’ who can’t control her bladder, who we pity and perhaps even fear because we see a future we don’t want to contemplate. For me, Luce Brett is one of ‘those women’ in an entirely different sense: she is one of those incredible women who are changing the landscape and pushing boundaries for future generations. I am not exaggerating when I say this book could be transformative for anyone who has been affected by the issue of incontinence, or birth trauma, or PND or PTSD, or even who has a completely different issue they feel they can’t talk about. Luce makes the point in the book that she does not consider herself brave, so instead, I will praise her generosity, and above all her kindness – it is clear from everything she writes that she is absolutely desperate to spare others the same experience of not being able to talk or get help: that is her mission, and as well as her story, the resources at the back of the book are invaluable for this.
I don’t usually finish a book and develop an action plan, but this is not a typical book. So, to conclude, this is what I am going to do after reading PMSL:
Bloody well do my kegels
See GP if I don’t notice an improvement
TALK about the issues that have affected me and those I care about
LISTEN to anyone who wants/needs to talk about their issues
As to who I would recommend this book to, the short answer is: everyone. This conversation mustn’t be tucked into a corner, filed under ‘women’s issues’ or reserved only for those suffering from incontinence right now. This deserves to be a huge conversation, and Luce’s book is a fiercely brilliant introduction.
Luce’s story is by turns heart-breaking, horrifying, funny, fierce, and above all, really, really well-told. She has been through so much, and she does not shy away from any of it here: the feelings, the pain, the procedures and operations, everything is laid out for us. Her voice is so strong; her personality leaps off every page: burning intelligence, searing honesty, absolutely filthy humour and plenty of swearing. The sense of connection with the reader is so powerful and intimate: the trust she places in us by sharing her story creates a bond. It feels far more like chatting with a mate than reading a medical memoir.
Luce is an incredibly talented writer. The journey she goes on as she negotiates her way through the traumatic, distressing world of incontinence is described through vivid flashbacks, and her personal efforts to reconstruct her story function as a kind of anchor through the mayhem and chaos of such difficult times. The complexity of her story is handled with skill and nuance – she interrogates herself with sharp intelligence and deep self-knowledge as the narrative progresses. She writes so well about the realities of depression and PTSD – even if you have been fortunate enough never to have experienced any of the medical problems that this book describes, you should read it to understand better what it is to suffer from mental health issues. So much in this book hit a nerve with me, from her fury at the acceptance of post-partum injuries as just part of a woman’s lot, to her frustration at the deafening wall of silence surrounding so many ‘women’s issues’. This book definitely ignited my ‘fem rage,’ to borrow a phrase from Luce: to the point where as I ranted to my lovely husband about the sheer anger I felt for Luce and for all of us, he cowered (sensibly) under the duvet.
This book is so powerful. It has reminded me of so many times in my life when I felt utterly bewildered and alone: when I was a young woman desperately trying to find a form of birth control that didn’t send me totally loopy; when I was finally diagnosed with depression aged 30 and looked back over the wasted years of thinking I was just broken beyond repair; when, about 2 weeks after giving birth to my daughter, I lay next to her on my bed, both of us on toddler pee pads having ‘nappy free time,’ my stitches possibly infected but too scared to call the midwife; miscarrying in the bath tub at 11 weeks; three months after my second baby being convinced that I’d have to wear pads forever as I leaked every time I coughed. All of these experiences made me feel helpless, useless, on the outside of some great secret about ‘how to be a woman’ that no one was letting me in on.
And what helped, and still helps, is TALKING ABOUT IT. This is what Luce knows, this is what she is doing here, she is busting open the conversation. Progress is being made in so many areas because women are speaking up and refusing to let us all suffer in silence, and this is an absolutely vital book, because it starts a conversation about a subject that seems beyond words, and lets the all-important dialogue begin. In the book, Luce talks about not wanting to be one of ‘those women’ – ‘that woman’ who can’t control her bladder, who we pity and perhaps even fear because we see a future we don’t want to contemplate. For me, Luce Brett is one of ‘those women’ in an entirely different sense: she is one of those incredible women who are changing the landscape and pushing boundaries for future generations. I am not exaggerating when I say this book could be transformative for anyone who has been affected by the issue of incontinence, or birth trauma, or PND or PTSD, or even who has a completely different issue they feel they can’t talk about. Luce makes the point in the book that she does not consider herself brave, so instead, I will praise her generosity, and above all her kindness – it is clear from everything she writes that she is absolutely desperate to spare others the same experience of not being able to talk or get help: that is her mission, and as well as her story, the resources at the back of the book are invaluable for this.
I don’t usually finish a book and develop an action plan, but this is not a typical book. So, to conclude, this is what I am going to do after reading PMSL:
Bloody well do my kegels
See GP if I don’t notice an improvement
TALK about the issues that have affected me and those I care about
LISTEN to anyone who wants/needs to talk about their issues
As to who I would recommend this book to, the short answer is: everyone. This conversation mustn’t be tucked into a corner, filed under ‘women’s issues’ or reserved only for those suffering from incontinence right now. This deserves to be a huge conversation, and Luce’s book is a fiercely brilliant introduction.
January 1, 2021
This book isn’t for those who are easily squeamish or disgusted by things like wee & poo. What? Just saying, it is a book about incontinence after all. I really enjoyed this book, it was interesting to read her experiences, and once you get passed the nitty gritty gross bits about childbirth and all that, it is kind of funny in some parts. I think the author did a good job and I recommend people read it to understand the condition more, that includes men too. As incontinence is not just a woman problem, it can happen to men as well. I think the author is so brave talking about something so personal and what is deemed an embarrassing topic. This book will be a help to many people I hope.
Read
December 29, 2020A memoir of post-natal incontinence, so not exactly my usual reading beat, but when a friend gets a book published it feels rude not to, and Hell, I already managed one such on the far more offputting topic of beer. Parts of this were also aired at a writing group of which I'm a fellow member, so I can't pretend to any great objectivity here, but all the same it seems pretty self-evident that it's a worthwhile topic.
Busting taboos and chasing out stigma around this could go a long way to helping a lot of people - likewise making them aware of the help available, and demystifying the various medical procedures and professionals along the way. Obviously it's not the easiest going – I frequently found myself wincing despite not possessing the relevant apparatus, let alone any desire to produce a person with it – but what could have been simply harrowing is enlivened throughout with a lively (if often inevitably grim) humour, even as Lucy also interrogates her own use of humour as a coping mechanism. An eye-opening account which deserves to be widely read.
Busting taboos and chasing out stigma around this could go a long way to helping a lot of people - likewise making them aware of the help available, and demystifying the various medical procedures and professionals along the way. Obviously it's not the easiest going – I frequently found myself wincing despite not possessing the relevant apparatus, let alone any desire to produce a person with it – but what could have been simply harrowing is enlivened throughout with a lively (if often inevitably grim) humour, even as Lucy also interrogates her own use of humour as a coping mechanism. An eye-opening account which deserves to be widely read.
September 4, 2020
PMSL is a riot. (FYI: It’s textspeak for “pissing myself laughing,” which is more commonly used among our friends across the pond).
And, unfortunately, Luce Brett, a brit, is an expert on peeing herself.
This book about urinary incontinence is for all the ladies who’ve given birth -- and lived to tell about the mass destruction that happens to our private parts.
Luce is a comedian, so this book is laugh-out-loud funny as she talks about her “damaged bits” and “broken muff.” But it’s also a great, tell-it-like-it-is resource for other mums who are coping with “fanny collapse” and need to know their options on how to plug their leak.
Since more than 1/3 of women in this great, big world pee themselves (ahem, have urinary incontinence), this book will help “the leaky among us get dry.” After all, Luce tells us that we need to grow up and start talking about it.
The baby books don’t talk about it. Our friends *won’t* talk about it. But our doctors needs to know what what’s up. Thankfully, Luce Brett shares her actual experiences in her very own frank and hilarious way.
OMG. Incontinence is no joke. But Luce keeps it light and even educates us on the topic of why things can go terribly wrong during the birthing process—enough to put us in adult diapers.
Like Mr. Brett (Luce’s hubby), I’ve been sent to stores on “pad hunts” and there’s definite shame in the shopping game. (Thank God for Amazon!)
Thanks to NetGalley for the opportunity to read an electronic copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.
And, unfortunately, Luce Brett, a brit, is an expert on peeing herself.
This book about urinary incontinence is for all the ladies who’ve given birth -- and lived to tell about the mass destruction that happens to our private parts.
Luce is a comedian, so this book is laugh-out-loud funny as she talks about her “damaged bits” and “broken muff.” But it’s also a great, tell-it-like-it-is resource for other mums who are coping with “fanny collapse” and need to know their options on how to plug their leak.
Since more than 1/3 of women in this great, big world pee themselves (ahem, have urinary incontinence), this book will help “the leaky among us get dry.” After all, Luce tells us that we need to grow up and start talking about it.
The baby books don’t talk about it. Our friends *won’t* talk about it. But our doctors needs to know what what’s up. Thankfully, Luce Brett shares her actual experiences in her very own frank and hilarious way.
OMG. Incontinence is no joke. But Luce keeps it light and even educates us on the topic of why things can go terribly wrong during the birthing process—enough to put us in adult diapers.
Like Mr. Brett (Luce’s hubby), I’ve been sent to stores on “pad hunts” and there’s definite shame in the shopping game. (Thank God for Amazon!)
Thanks to NetGalley for the opportunity to read an electronic copy of this book in exchange for my honest review.
June 3, 2021
I am sure I am not the only one who did kegal exercises all the way through reading this!
Am I the only one that didn't find it funny? Mind you I think I take things about women's mistreatment by medical profession too seriously to be amused. I had to stop myself having a bit of a rant writing this, so have done several drafts!
I will jot down the phrases given at the back of the book to help start conversations and the websites advice lines and give them to my patients. Have taken the book to work for fellow therapists to read and disseminate knowledge to their patients. I hope they do.
The misogyny in the health service is still so ingrained it really depresses me. Maybe that's why I didn't find the book funny. I just got pissed off at the cavalier way Luce (and other women) was treated.
Will recommend the book to anyone I think would benefit. (ie everyone)
Luce encourages you to be brave and empower yourself and for goodness sake people sort your continence problems out NOW.
Am I the only one that didn't find it funny? Mind you I think I take things about women's mistreatment by medical profession too seriously to be amused. I had to stop myself having a bit of a rant writing this, so have done several drafts!
I will jot down the phrases given at the back of the book to help start conversations and the websites advice lines and give them to my patients. Have taken the book to work for fellow therapists to read and disseminate knowledge to their patients. I hope they do.
The misogyny in the health service is still so ingrained it really depresses me. Maybe that's why I didn't find the book funny. I just got pissed off at the cavalier way Luce (and other women) was treated.
Will recommend the book to anyone I think would benefit. (ie everyone)
Luce encourages you to be brave and empower yourself and for goodness sake people sort your continence problems out NOW.
July 22, 2024
I have to start with a disclaimer - the author is a friend of mine. This is what prompted me to read the book. This medical memoir was prompted by the traumatic birth of Luce's first child, and the resulting incontinence at the age of thirty, events that upturned her life. The resulting book paints a bleak picture of the stats, not least of all that over 400 million people suffer from incontinence (!), with more women than men affected: an estimated 1 in 3. Incontinence from giving birth is also way more common than is generally discussed. Those facts alone would be enough of a reason alone to read a book about incontinence, but (fortunately) this book is also funny and kind-hearted and furious at the needless suffering caused by the stifling effect of the stigma associated the subject. This book makes a convincing case for change. It will also probably teach you more euphemisms for your foof/vajayjay/Minnie than you had any idea were out there.
December 31, 2020
As a PT and someone who has pelvic floor issues (I tend to pee when I sneeze) I was very interested in this book. Be warned, her birth story is pretty triggering, not so much because of her birth injuries but because of the degrading way she was "cared" for in labor. Her overall level of shame about all things body related was surprising to me however, probably because I'm a PT and expect a certain level of mess from bodies. Good things to think about, not exactly a light read. Also the very British "fanny" threw me, it felt euphemistic but I think it's more blunt in British? If I were writing a book like this you would hear a lot more about "vulva, vagina, urethra, anus" etc and a lot less about "bits", but then I'm a PT and an American.
November 7, 2024
I really enjoyed this book though parts were hard to read. I so appreciated the author elucidating what it is like to have these issues which are sadly so taboo and stigmatised yet more common than we think and everyone suffers often in silence. My key takeaways are “no body is perfect but all bodies deserve care” and “stigma isn’t the boss of you. You are.” She has helpful tips for what questions to help you put forward to health professionals and makes readers feel less alone in their struggle, parts though are graphic and definitely make me question pregnancy . “1 in 3 women wet themselves and about 1 in 10 have problems controlling their bowels “ ics.org/incontinence
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 18, 2021
This book is not for the faint hearted but I do recommend to all of those Mums to be with rose-tinted glasses to help them realise that life after labour is not what you imagined. And I recommend to any future physio and pelvic specialist as a way to reflect on a patient’s experience.
This book is about the experience with pelvic health issues intermixed with a fabulous sense of humour and sorrow of basic human dignity lost. It is powerful in every way.
This book is about the experience with pelvic health issues intermixed with a fabulous sense of humour and sorrow of basic human dignity lost. It is powerful in every way.
November 15, 2022
Ya girl cannot turn down a medical memoir.
Luce Brett’s life changed after the birth of her first son. There was the glow of new motherhood, of course, as well as the darkness of postpartum depression and another thing: incontinence.
Why is it just ✨accepted✨ that women experience incontinence at some point in their life, with or without childbirth? Brett takes a hammer to the taboo, telling her story with snark and candor.
Luce Brett’s life changed after the birth of her first son. There was the glow of new motherhood, of course, as well as the darkness of postpartum depression and another thing: incontinence.
Why is it just ✨accepted✨ that women experience incontinence at some point in their life, with or without childbirth? Brett takes a hammer to the taboo, telling her story with snark and candor.
March 17, 2021
Such an important book. I'm a 35 year old man who decided to read this because I was told it was entertaining, funny and interesting by a friend. I'd say it's much more than that. I'd say it's one of those books that SHOULD be read by everyone. The content is important and not written about nearly enough. And, also, yeah it is written hilariously, so that's also a win.
October 1, 2021
I listened to this as an audiobook and felt like the author might be on the verge of tears most of the time. This took away from the “humour”. I found it pretty depressing and anger inducing.
I feel like it’s an important book in terms of opening up conversation and thinking about how the medical oppression of women effects us all.
I feel like it’s an important book in terms of opening up conversation and thinking about how the medical oppression of women effects us all.
July 13, 2020
This book is simultaneously heartbreaking, witty and fascinating on what it means to try and manage a long term health issue that's long been shrouded in stigma. It's frank, honest and wonderfully written, and whether or not you've experienced incontinence it's a great read.
August 23, 2020
An honest and open, funny and sad, recounting of Luce Brett’s story of incontinence due to th traumatic birthed her son. I really enjoyed it (and, bonus, it reminded me over and over to do kegel excercises!)
September 30, 2020
Thank you Luce for telling us your story, it has been an eye opener and really interesting to read.
I am so sorry you had such a difficult journey though and more needs to be done to raise awareness.
I will share it far and wide to tell others about this and need to keep doing our pelvic floor!
I am so sorry you had such a difficult journey though and more needs to be done to raise awareness.
I will share it far and wide to tell others about this and need to keep doing our pelvic floor!
July 1, 2020
Frank and fearless. Brave and bold. Impassioned and in depth. Rude and gruesome. Luce Brett is pioneering and inspiring.
July 21, 2020
As someone fascinated by the things that don't usually get said, this was a treasure trove. Heartfelt, informative, bracingly honest and often deeply funny, I really loved it.
March 7, 2021
As a physio I found this such an insightful book into the perspective of a patient
May 4, 2021
Confronting, in the best possible way.
December 2, 2021
A really vivid description of the hell of incontinence (caused by a harrowing birth experience).
Read it and then go and kiss your mother’s feet.
Read it and then go and kiss your mother’s feet.
July 30, 2022
Skillful author and a moving tale (I cried, I laughed). Really useful info on a taboo topic, told with much humour. Essential reading for anyone with a pelvic floor.
March 29, 2024
Witty, real, feminist.... everything you ever wanted and more. Learnt so many things about an issue that is never discussed oepnly. Definitely a great read!
Read
April 14, 2024I realized I already looked at this book before and I guess I never logged it in. It’s about incontinence and pelvic floor therapy. Just can’t go there.
August 19, 2024
Good book to read if you have a bladder. Especially if you’re a woman with a leaky one.
December 22, 2024
Luce is honest and open about her births and the difficulties she faced with incontinence afterwards. She clearly explains the physical challenges and offers support to the many we know are silently struggling with the same issues. It’s all delivered in her chatty, informal style that makes it feel more like a catch up with a friend than a book about birth injuries.
Displaying 1 - 28 of 28 reviews