This morning I had a fairly sudden onset of severe cramping in my lower abdomen. We were having sex, nothing we haven't done a hundred times already, when I started feeling slightly uncomfortable, so we stopped. I tried to relax and figure out the discomfort, which was coming from my lower abdomen. Over a few minutes it went from "hmm, that feels a bit odd" to extremely uncomfortable, and then into very painful cramping when I tried to move (e.g. to sit up). Tony got me clothes and I struggled into them and then rang my GP's surgery. It was about 9:10am and despite being mostly same-day appointments, already they had no doctor appointments left. I was nearly crying with pain at this point and persuaded them I really needed to see someone, so they booked me in for a nurse "triage appointment" at 11:30am.

Tony fetched me ibuprofen and I could stumble around the house bent over like an old woman (it's astonishing how often you move your abdomen in normal life, isn't it?) to get breakfast and something to drink, and I settled in front of my computer to email my boss a sick note. I then decided to stay there as it was easier than moving, and faffed gently. Tony worked from home and came in every so often to check on me. I needed the loo, but at first, every time I even thought about it, the relevant orifices went into painful cramping themselves, on top of the general abdominal discomfort. Over about an hour and a half, the cramping gradually subsided into a dull ache, and I could go to the loo at last. I was then feeling rather "shocky": limp, shaky, not thinking very clearly, tired.

At 11 the taxi took us into town, and I was much better than at 9, but the bumps in the road would send little extra shocks of pain through me. I decided I didn't need Tony to sit with me in the surgery, so he walked me there and then went into the office. The surgery was running further behind than usual, to the point it was nearly standing-room only in the waiting room. However I felt too weak to stand up for long, so squeezed into the one plausible seating gap. Felt rather guilty when the next ill-looking person came along, as my instinct is to give up my seat, but rationally I knew I couldn't. Annoyingly, no-one else gave up their seat until she rather pointedly asked people to make room, including the guy loudly complaining that he only wanted a jab and why couldn't they run things better so the economy didn't suffer from healthy people spending hours in waiting rooms.

The nurse eventually saw me, took a urine sample, my blood pressure, temperature and pulse. Apparently I was running a temperature but had no obvious urinary tract infections showing up on the multi-checking detector stick she put in my sample. So she had no idea, and shunted me on the end of a doctor's queue while I returned to the (thankfully emptying) waiting room. When the doctor came she said actually the detector stick had shown signs of a possible mild UTI. I expressed some worry about my Mirena coil, and she examined me. (She discussed at length why I'd chosen it when I haven't had a baby. I felt put on the spot as though I had to justify it, but then she said "oh yes, it is quite good" so that left me confused. She's not my normal GP, who fitted it.) As well as generally checking me out, she also looked for my Mirena strings, because I haven't been able to find them for a couple of months. Examination was ... not fun, but at least didn't trigger a return of the cramps, just left me feeling more achy and tender. I did my best to relax and not panic at being poked in sore places, but wasnt entirely successful, needing quite a bit of deep-breathing calming time once it was over. I do not have a high pain threshold, and things like this tend to break my usual self-image of being sensible and capable and rational.

So anyway, she said it might be the Mirena or it might be the (probable) UTI and I said I wasn't happy with that level of uncertainty about causes of severe pain, so she rang the Ob/Gyn people at Addenbrookes'. They told her to send me to the Daphne Ward at the Rosie, and she wrote me a letter with all the details the surgery had discovered and said "Go there, they'll see you when they can. Be prepared to wait." She also prescribed me an antibiotic for the UTI so I wouldn't need to get a doctor at the hospital to do so if they reckoned that's what I needed.

It was about 1pm when I got out of there. I met Tony for lunch in Tatties, stopping on the way for money and books, and then he walked me to the Lion Yard taxi rank. I was pleased to note that even road bumps weren't causing severe pain now, but felt generally crap and achey. As promised, I did indeed wait around for quite some time after presenting my letter, but at least the seats were comfy. A nurse came and asked me various questions, took my blood pressure and asked for another urine sample. The ward loo had a whole stack of sample cups with lids, I guess they go through lots of them in a maternity hospital. As I returned it she apologised because "the doctor just got called to an emergency". I rested and read some more, and eventually the doctor came.

He questioned me about all the details, as well as referring to the notes on me, and said that he didn't think he would examine me, as it wouldn't tell him anything more. I was quite relieved to hear this, and told him so, and he said "yes, I don't want to hurt you unnecessarily and I really don't think I'd learn anything useful, given your GP's notes." He then went on to say that UTIs causing cramps occasionally during and after intercourse was not uncommon. I shouldn't worry about it happening again, shouldn't abstain from sex for fear of it happening again, but if it did happen again I should come back and they would do a more thorough investigation. He was quite firm that it couldn't be the Mirena: either it was in place, in which case it wouldn't hurt, or it was out, in which case it couldn't hurt. I expressed disbelief that it could have come out without me noticing. He agreed to book me in for a scan to locate it, as the strings had disappeared, and told me I should fill the antibiotic prescription and take them and it would probably all be ok. So essentially what the GP said, but from a specialist and 3 hours later.

I called a cab and went home, or at least to the pharmacist around the corner. By the time I got home it was 5:30 and I was feeling tired and mildly achey in the belly and generally under the weather, but nothing worse. If nothing else, all the sitting and resting in waiting rooms had probably been good from a healing point of view. And so the rest of the evening, interspersed with occasional comfort food. I've started the antibiotics and will finish the course like a good girl. Right now, the thought of cycling to work tomorrow does not inspire me with happiness, but at least I can work from home ...