Second stage in London sunshine

So there we were, on a sunny day in July 2019, standing on London Bridge waiting for my mum to meet the twins and I. She had kindly agreed to entertain them in the hospital waiting room whilst I went along to my appointment with my new consultant, the gynecologist. 

At the hospital, my kids and mum firmly plotted in the waiting area (mum loaded with bananas and biscuits - good luck mum) I was waiting next to the room for my appointment. 

Remember here, I had a wedding - my OWN wedding, in just over eight weeks away at this point. So in between appointments throughout, I was emailing various people, companies and ticking my wedding 'to do' list off.

Whilst emailing, I had accidently scrolled onto a page for sexy 'wedding night' lingere, when my new male consultant, looking over my shoulder, called me in. 

It set the mood for the vaginal examination appointment perfectly and I would have usually made a whitty comment about it but it was clear from the first thrity seconds of meeting him, that my new consultant didn't laugh or smile. Not once. He had one face - his resting face, therefore I thought better of making a comment and got straight to business.

After a few questions. I was asked to get undressed and into a gown for the examination of my cervix. My lower back was still incedibly painful (I dont like to bring it up too much - I understand how boring that would be) so I was dreading the thought of lying on my back. 

Next minute, legs up and  head back - the examination caused me a great deal of pain, even more so in my lower back - once again I just knew there was something there and I knew I needed it to get out. 

He couldnt find anything immediate within the examination but did notice an injury on my cervix. 

With my clothes back on this led me on to explain that earlier in that year, my husband and I, finally getting our sleep back and with a honeymoon on the way, decided that we should get onto a constant and consistent form of contraception; with our chances of conceiving twins again at 85% we thought it was best not to risk it. 

In this discussion, I took one for the team and put my hand up to have the coil fitted. 

Unfortunately the installation process was bodged - I was left a few weeks later on my bathroom floor bleeding ridiculous amounts and with terrible cramps. 

My sister in law accompanied me to  A&E at the nearest hospital where they actually refused to look at it or remove it - just sent me home with mild painkillers and told me to make an appointment to have an ultrasound in a few days/weeks/months - let's face it, I would be waiting a while. 

So we went to the clinic where I had the coil fitted and I begged the lady behind reception to ask the nurse to remove it - I was literally begging, snotty and crying. I think she was more disturbed by the state of me and I was probably scaring the young teenage girls (or boys) who were waiting to have their first contraception appointments (apologies if I am responsible for any teenage pregnancies in South East Essex during that summer); and I was sent to another clinic nearby. 

A kind lady at the final clinic removed the coil within two seconds and confirmed that it was in fact fitted incorrectly and had caused a bit of an injury. 

So the gynecologist at London Bridge agreed that yes, this could be why I have the terrible pain at the bottom of my back and that the bodged coil could have caused an infection that spread to the tissues in my back - which would explain the inflammation and infection levels on my blood test. 

Yes! - I thought - Finally! I have an answer! ready to pop the champagne and skip down the road. However, before I could think about my first step in suing my local contraception clinic, the consultant stopped me in my tracks. He said he would arrange for me to have a contrast MRI scan and see what shows up and where - as there is no certainty. 

Then he gave me more antibiotics and sent me on my way. 

The boys, my mum and I did enjoy an afternoon at The London Aquarium that day and had a little picnic on the grounds outside The Tate Modern. It was July after all so the weather was gorgeous. London was in full Summer holiday mode where everyone seemed to be outside pubs, or sitting on any patch of grass, lunchbreaks seemed longer, flip flops, summer dresses, street entertainer's, and the delcious smells of pop up street food; BBQ pulled pork, falafel, noodles and ice cream vans stationed like full stops along the South Bank. 

The boys didnt tend to vist London much (even less so now due to Covid -19) but when they did, they seemed speechless by the noise and the atmosphere.

I threw myself into making memories with them that afternoon and tried to ignore the bittersweet feeling inside me. I knew deep down this wasn't about the coil, this wasn't the end,  there was something else causing my lower back to be in such pain. 

It was also on this day where I noticed my energy declining. I had naturally always been quite energetic and not lazy in the slightest, but on that day everything felt a little heavier. 

Less than a week later, I had my first contrast MRI scan - this is where they inject ink into your body to improve the quality of the MRI images. 

The injection was fine - but the scan was longer.  The pain in my back was getting worse and worse as was my energy and my mood. I woke up in pain, spent everyday in pain and went to bed in pain with no real answer of what was wrong with my back, I was becoming impaitent and I was worried. 

I was also still working at this point, so the train journey's to and from London (around ninety minutes each way) were taking their toll; I hadn't mentioned anything to my employer's either so my workload was no different and I was finding everything too much.

The results of the MRI scan came through a couple of days later - I was with my boys, out and about on a sunny day and couldn't hear the consultant properly at first, but eventually I understood - the contrast injection showed that the issue does not lie in my cervix, uterus or anywhere at the front of my pelvis - there is something that has shown up and has been found near my coccyx and there is an issue around my bowel. 

The consultant (still unsmiling through the phone) wished me well and gave me the phone number for a colorectal consultant in a hospital once again, in London Bridge. He confirmed it was important that I phoned him straight away. 

Feeling even more worried by this point, I made the call. 

Within a few days I was ready and waiting for my appointment with my third consultant in three weeks.