Copper Coil

Yesterday, was another day of firsts. I ran my first ever Park Run and experienced my first ever coil removal sans anaesthetic - go me! The Park Run was a success, as in I completed the 3 mile course in less than half an hour, but unfortunately I was in pain the whole way round and suffered cramping for some time afterwards. Nevertheless, I felt a sense of achievement and the endorphins put me in a good mood for the day ahead, despite being overtaken by a man pushing a buggy (maybe more than one).

Later that day I had my final appointment with Mr Kalu before he was going to refer us for fertility treatment. We talked about our options and how he thinks referring us straight for IVF is our best chance given my age and the severity of the endometriosis. He said he would refer us as soon as I've had another hysteroscopy to have one final look inside my uterus to check for adhesions and a final clearing of any cobwebs. There is currently a three month waiting list at Kingston Hospital for IVF so all being well, I'll be able to start treatment at the end of the summer. Whilst, I'm not relishing the prospect of having yet another procedure, I'm looking forward to getting our fertility journey underway. After a few months of setbacks, things seem to be finally heading in the right direction.

Mr Kalu then informed me he was going to remove the dreaded coil. Gulp. Although this was my second IUD, I'd never been awake for insertion or extraction before so as I lay on the bed with my legs akimbo, I was a little tense to say the least. I could feel it scraping every millimetre of my cervix as he was pulling the wretched thing out, I can now see why women only have them every 5 years!

After a few minutes of chat while I was fumbling around for my underwear, which were of course tucked neatly under my leggings on the chair (I have no problem with a doctor studying my floodlit private parts but there's no way he's going to see my knickers), I asked to see the coil that he'd just removed. This is what he removed from the waste bin...

I'll just leave that there with you.

Hysteroscopy Recovery

This time round I was signed off for a week, initially this was two but managed to I negotiate Mr Kalu down - he looked at me as if I was crazy! I felt terrible for already taking so much time off from work this year and I didn't feel I would need more than a few days. The procedure was invasive, but the healing was all internal - no complications with stitches and dressings.

The day after the operation, my mood had improved and I started feeling more positive about the things. As with everything in life, crappy situations always seem heightened when you're lacking sleep and that night I managed to drift off very easily. I guess I was still trying to get my head around the diagnosis, what it meant for me and what other hurdles the future would throw in my path. As the week went on and I was feeling slightly more human, I had time to take stock and reassess what had happened over the last few months.

While I was recovering and trying to process and make sense of my newfound situation, I slowly started to feel frustrated and irritable. The internal pain was fairly short-lived but the emotional strain from bleeding heavily for two-thirds of the month before and after the operation started to get me down. I'll spare you from too many details this time but the post-op tampon embargo meant yet another trip to the M&S lingerie department, I was now getting quite a collection. My digestive system really struggled too, sometimes completely grinding to a halt for a few days then whirring back into action with accompanying cramps in every place imaginable, crippling stomach ache and bouts of nausea. The bloating was constant and I found wearing anything other than leggings unbearable. Ironically, I looked pregnant which was a twisted kick in the teeth, seeing as that's what I've been aiming to achieve for the past 3½ years. The resentment towards this disease and every GP who has misdiagnosed me over the past two decades is slowly augmenting as I understand more and more about bloody endometriosis.

Yesterday, I had my post-procedure follow-up with Mr Kalu. I explained my womb worriment and he vehemently reassured me the septum tissue hadn't grown back and will not ever grow back in the future (duh, it's fibrous tissue!). Although I felt a little stupid, I was hugely relieved. He was actually really happy with how the operation went and wants me to carry on with the oestrogen (HRT) and progestogen medication until I see him next month. ROLL. ON. MAY.