I suppose this story begins in 2019 when I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, after having extremely heavy periods and a pretty big change in my weight. I went through a series of scans, ultrasounds and hospital appointments, which revealed a number of teeny tiny cysts covering my ovaries. PCOS for short, is more common than you may think, 1 in 5 women across the UK suffer with it and it varies in the extent it can affect you.
For me, the first problem I encountered was heavy bleeding during my period, they became increasingly irregular and lasted for up to 3 months at a time. I was in a relationship at the time and taking a mini pill called "Zelletta" which contains only one hormone, desogestrel. Zelleta was to be taken once a day without a break in between which differs from a combined pill which you stop taking for a week, which is when your period occurs.
The reason I started on the mini pill at 15 years old was due to my high BMI, which is total rubbish! I am a tall curvy girl, but in no way was I overweight at that time despite what my BMI likely said. I am unsure as to when and why my PCOS started, as at 17 years old was when I began to rapidly gain weight and my periods became heavier, however when taking the pill at 15, I had no issues. Being in a relationship at 17, I became comfortable with my partner and stopped paying much attention to what I ate, and within a year I was at least two dress sizes up and definitely gained a few stone, which I presume was a combination of an unhealthy lifestyle and PCOS. As I had pretty much no assistance from the doctors for my PCOS, I didn't change my diet or lifestyle, and the pounds kept piling on.
After some time, i decided to change contraception and try the copper (non hormonal) coil/IUD, which definitely didn't agree with me. I kept gaining more and more weight, periods became even more inconsistent and heavy, and my mental health got worse. I had no idea how closely linked PCOS and weight are, to put it shortly the more you weigh the worse your PCOS is, which at 20 years old I definitely can agree with. After struggling with the copper coil, I came off contraception completely, mainly due to the fact my relationship ended, which is a whole other story.
About 6-8 months later, I decided to go back on the pill, when I was 19, which was a terrible mistake. I was at University when I started taking Zelleta again and I bled for weeks on end which not only felt extremely uncomfortable, it made it difficult to even leave my flat as I'd end up bleeding through tampons in less than an hour. The next step was to come off the pill and let my body get back to normal for a while, not only were the heavy irregular periods bad enough, I cannot imagine what it did to my mental health with the amount of hormones flying around my body.
In the beginning of 2021, I got into a relationship with my current partner, and felt it was best to seek advice on the best form of contraception for my PCOS. My doctor recommended a Mirena IUD Coil, which I then went to a local sexual health clinic to have inserted as my doctors waiting list was months long. The whole ordeal with the insertion of my marina coil was a car crash. To begin, the doctor took a urine sample to check for pregnancy but didn't actually check the sample before inserting the coil. She didn't take an STI/STD test either, which left me lying on the bed filled with dread and anxiety after she spent five minutes asking whether I could have an STI or be pregnant, yet didn't even check. If you've had a coil inserted, you'll know the sheer vulnerability you feel laying on that bed, and the pain is unbearable. As this was my second coil, I knew what to expect, however it's definitely one of the most painful and uncomfortable feelings I've ever experienced.
Fast forward to July 2021, I had just started working for a new business as their marketing girl, and suddenly I began to bleed buckets within a matter of days. I had no issues since the coil was inserted apart from the fact I was told I'd bleed much less, which didn't happen at all, and of course left me anxious and worried. However, in July I began to suddenly pass huge clots, much larger than a 50p coin, and became extremely concerned. I remember being in work and feeling faint, short of breath and probably convinced myself that the amount of blood I was losing was dangerous. However, what was actually going on was much worse.
I told my boss I needed to go to hospital so i began to drive home, I phoned 111 and due to the shortness of breath she told me to stop where I was and sent an ambulance. I parked outside a house, sat and cried waiting for the ambulance to arrive. I could feel myself bleeding through my tampon, my underwear, leggings and onto my car seat, which felt awful. When the ambulance arrived, I hobbled over with a paramedic on each arm, feeling the blood drip down my legs. Periods aren't the nicest topic to talk about to a male paramedic in the back of an ambulance, but I felt that terrified of what was going on in my body, all the embarrassment went out of the window.
We arrived at the Countess of Chester Hospital and as I stood up from the bed it was drenched in blood, and I was placed in a wheelchair and sent off to a room. I spent about 5 hours in this room alone, with a cannula in my arm and regular bloods being taken. By the time I was put on a ward, my room looked like a scene from a horror film. If you're not squeamish, I've attached a photo at the end of this post, which I took on my laptop as my phone died hours earlier (I was very bored without it). After being taken to the ward at about 11pm, I was placed on a drip, yet still had no answers. I couldn't sleep all night, I missed my family and boyfriend, and if you've ever stayed overnight on a ward, you'll know how unpleasant it is. However the nurses and doctors couldn't have been more brilliant, and so I spent my sleepless night watching 10 Things I Hate About You and scrolling through TikTok.
The next morning, a doctor finally took me for an ultrasound and an internal scan, which was majorly uncomfortable, however instantly the doctor found the issue. My coil was about to fall out. Yes, you heard me right, it had been incorrectly inserted and was about to come out. afterwards, I was taken back to my ward and soon taken to have my coil removed, and the doctors asked whether I wanted another one placed or to keep it out. In my head, I felt the best option is to have another one inserted, as I was already there, and I knew that this was the best contraception option for my PCOS. To be honest, I was so tired of the issues I'd had for years on end, I was happy to try it again, which was a great decision in the end.
The insertion after my dodgy coil was removed was painless and I felt such a relief afterwards and was discharged from hospital. Now in March 2022, 8 months later, I have had practically no bleeding since, although I've started to have some strange side effects such as acne and eczema which I have written about in another post! There is no moral of the story in all honesty, as for me I've only just found the right contraception for me, 5 years later, yet I am grateful it's working well for now. As for my PCOS, about 2 weeks ago I went to see a new doctor who also suffers with polycystic ovaries, and gave me some brilliant advice such as sticking to a Mediterranean low carb diet, which I'm trying to get the hang of. I have struggled with my relationship with food for a while, and PCOS definitely doesn't help, but I'm optimistic and hope that in the future I'll figure it out.
I've attached a few helpful sites on PCOS if you too are a sufferer, my door is also always open for any tips or advice!
Until next time, Mol <3
My hospital bed AKA crime scene!
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