Chapter 2
Posted: September 17th, 2026
From dismissive doctors and failed treatments to the overwhelming anxiety and fear that consumed my life, this chapter is about hitting rock bottom with chronic pain before choosing a new direction.
01
As my symptoms kept escalating, I finally decided to contact my family doctor. The urine culture she ordered showed that I had a UTI caused by E. coli, and I was initially prescribed a 5-day course of nitrofurantoin. I cried again when I got the test results, but this time, it was out of pure relief. Finally, I had a concrete diagnosis and a clear treatment plan, and I was optimistically convinced that this whole nightmare was coming to an end. Around that time, I also went back to work part-time, so the timing for a solution felt absolutely perfect.
Except the solution never came. By the time I finished the course of antibiotics, there was no change in how I felt. I submitted another sample, and it came back positive again. I was prescribed nitrofurantoin a second time, this time for 10 days. But once again, there was no improvement whatsoever. I was in absolute despair. I cried almost every single night, and my anxiety grew with each passing day. After finishing the second course, I consulted my family doctor, who felt that taking yet another round of antibiotics would be too harsh on my body. Instead, she recommended drinking plenty of water and taking cranberry supplements… Obviously, the “water + cranberry” method did absolutely nothing for me. By that point, I’d already been chugging water for weeks.
For a change, I had a bit of luck and managed to book a private appointment with a female urologist, which is quite rare in our country, as there are very few of them. The thought of discussing these intimate issues with a male doctor made me intensely uncomfortable. My mental health was hanging by a thread at this point, and I was only holding it together thanks to my partner, whom I’ll be showering with praise throughout this story. Of course, the rest of my family was very supportive too, but they had no idea just how bad things really were. I didn’t want to burden them with it.
At the urologist’s office, I poured out my story, feeling as though I had the despair of the whole world bottled up inside me. She advised me to submit another sample at my family doctor’s clinic. She was convinced it would still come back positive and proactively wrote me a prescription for a different antibiotic, Augmentin. On top of that, the long-term treatment plan involved taking nitrofurantoin once a day for three months after finishing the initial course. She explained that taking antibiotics for such an extended period could potentially damage the bladder lining and that I might eventually need Gepan therapy. It sounded terrifying.
I had the new test done, and sure enough, it came back positive again. So I started my third course of antibiotics, which lasted 7 days. My life at home completely revolved around pain, discomfort, and relentless crying. Whenever my symptoms flared up, I would spiral into anxiety attacks, crying hysterically and gasping for air. My partner knew that no comforting words would help in those moments, so he would simply hold me tight in his arms.
02
After my third course of antibiotics, the feeling of pressure and tingling in my bladder finally disappeared, but the intense discomfort and burning sensation raged on. Little did I know that, at that point, my symptoms were actually caused by a combination of cytolytic vaginosis, neuroplastic pain and a hypertonic pelvic floor.
I was completely crushed. In total despair, I headed back to my gynaecologist to revisit the situation and literally begged her for a prescription to treat Ureaplasma parvum, which had been detected in an earlier test.
Truth be told, Ureaplasma parvum is generally considered part of the normal vaginal microbiome. It isn’t routinely treated with antibiotics because a direct link between this bacterium and symptoms like mine hasn’t been firmly established (unlike Ureaplasma urealyticum, which has been associated with certain urogenital conditions, although my tests for those were clear). But while browsing Reddit and the internet, I came across numerous accounts from women who had found relief from similar symptoms after treating U. parvum. I got the prescription, but decided to hold off on starting the treatment for a while. Just knowing I had that option in my back pocket gave me a small sense of security.
One evening, my symptoms flared up so badly again that I sobbed myself breathless in my partner’s arms as we went to bed. First thing the next morning, I decided I had to see another urologist. I already had a referral from my family doctor, and by some miracle, there was an appointment available the very next day with another female urologist at a public clinic.
03
That visit was horrific. After I had described my ongoing symptoms, the doctor looked at me and said, “You have chronic UTI now. This is your life from here on out. There’s nothing we can do.” I fought back tears in her office. I couldn’t believe a medical professional would speak to me like that. Her solution was simply ongoing “symptom management.” When I got home, I… well, you guessed it: cried my eyes out once again. But right after that, something in me rebelled. I refused to accept what she had said or the way she had treated me. I decided to start the three-month course of nitrofurantoin, even though I had been unsure about it at first. I had actually asked this same urologist for advice about starting the long-term course during the appointment, and she had just shrugged and said, “I mean, you can try if you want.”
When I started the course, I immediately felt a tiny bit better, and over the next three days, I felt even better still. There was one specific day when I felt almost like myself again. I remember it clearly because we were celebrating my niece’s six-month birthday. But the very next day, that familiar burning and painful sensation returned, lingering for hours after every bathroom trip. It hit me hard because, for the first time in ages, I had started to feel a little hopeful again. I was furious and had lost faith in everything and everyone. After a week on nitrofurantoin, I decided I didn’t want to try any more antibiotics. I felt like they simply weren’t doing anything.
So, I dived deep into the internet. I spent hours reading through endless Reddit posts and articles, trying to find success stories from people who had finally beaten chronic UTI without antibiotics. And sure enough, those stories existed. So, I decided to take the “natural route”.
04
I’ll touch on the mental health side of things here as well. Anyone who has dealt with a chronic condition knows how much it can affect you mentally. And that low point can make the pain even worse. (I’ll write a separate post all about neuroplastic pain.) As I mentioned, I was in a really bad place. I was terrified that this was my life now, that I’d never feel good again. Outside the house, though, I did my best to put on a brave face. At one point, I started opening up more to my girlfriends and my employer about what I was going through. Everyone was supportive. But only my partner truly knew just how bad I was feeling.
On top of everything I was going through physically, I felt terrible guilt that my partner had to go through it all with me, too. We’d been together for 11 years at that point, ever since I was 18 and he was 21. He is my best friend. I know he loves me, and unlike a lot of men, he’s really good at showing it. I know how painful it is to watch someone you care about suffer without being able to do anything about it. And at home, there were so many tears, along with constant anxiety and fear. Being around all of that inevitably takes a toll on anyone.
To make matters worse, I had no interest in physical intimacy, and I hadn’t for several months. On top of everything else, I started to fear that my partner would lose interest in me or look for that closeness elsewhere. I’d never had any reason to feel that way before. But we’d never been through anything like this before, either. Through my tears, I told him about this fear, and he reassured me that there was no reason to worry. I felt a little relieved, but the worry never really went away. I kept apologising to him for the situation we were in and for dragging him through it all with me.
I felt guilty towards the rest of my family, too. I felt like I couldn’t really be there for them or take much interest in what was happening in their lives. I was distracted, withdrawn, and quick to snap over little things. I could see how worried they were, especially my mum. I hated myself for causing her so much distress. Deep down, I also felt ashamed. My mum had told me again and again to see my family doctor, and she’d been right all along. If I’d just listened to her, I’m sure I’d have been in a much better place. Admitting that to her, but especially to myself, was really hard.
05
After that traumatising visit to the urologist and throwing in the towel on antibiotics, I launched my “natural treatment plan”. I spent hundreds of euros on various supplements and hours every evening going down rabbit holes on the internet. I can’t say my symptoms improved dramatically, but a fresh wave of hope washed over me, and with it, my mental state lifted just a little. About three weeks after that last awful urologist appointment, I decided to do a check-up with a urine dipstick test, and it came back clear!
Looking back, I’m fairly convinced the test had actually been clear for a while, thanks to that last course of Augmentin antibiotics. For some reason, I wasn’t scheduled for a follow-up test after finishing the course. I didn’t ask for one either because, given my ongoing symptoms, I just assumed it would be positive anyway. That negative test result brought another tiny glimmer of hope, but it also sparked just as much, if not more, anxiety. I had been reading about embedded UTIs, and a terrifying thought took root: Is this what’s actually going on with me? How else could my tests keep coming back clear? And embedded UTIs were apparently extremely hard to cure…
After about a month of my natural routine, which also included a visit to a homeopath and an acupuncture session, my condition took a turn for the worse again. The same intense burning and pain that had eased up a bit flared right back up. The bladder pressure didn’t return, but the idea that I might have an embedded UTI kept spinning around in my head. I asked my family doctor to order a new urine test and went in for an appointment. My test came back completely normal.
As a quick side note on how things work here: the family doctor does a simple dipstick test (which, honestly, is wildly unreliable), and if it comes back clear, they’re often reluctant to send the sample to a lab for a more detailed culture. I asked my doctor directly whether there was any chance we could get a proper culture done, but she didn’t think it was necessary. Looking back, I should have pushed much harder for it. (Later on, yet another urologist also told me it was strange that my family doctor hadn’t sent the sample for a lab culture.) Instead, my family doctor recommended that I go ahead with the course of doxycycline my gynaecologist had previously prescribed after I’d nagged her for it. Maybe it really was Ureaplasma parvum after all?
Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. I finished the full course of doxycycline, my Ureaplasma parvum test came back negative, but absolutely nothing changed. I dived back into the world of internet research and stumbled upon yet another possible cause. I had come across plenty of posts about pelvic floor dysfunction and how overly tight pelvic floor muscles can mimic the symptoms I was experiencing. At the time, I hadn’t paid much attention to them, but now I felt like this was the very last straw I had left to clutch at. I went ahead and booked an appointment with a physiotherapist specialising in pelvic floor health.
Chapter 1
Driven by my stubborn “good girl” mindset and ChatGPT’s false promises, I spent months misinterpreting my body’s signals—only to realize I was blindly fighting two separate conditions at once.
Chapter 2
From dismissive doctors and failed treatments to the overwhelming anxiety and fear that consumed my life, this is the story of hitting rock bottom.
Chapter 3
Shifting my mindset around pain and learning to listen to my body changed everything, but the real breakthrough came when I stopped chasing quick fixes and let my cycle reveal the truth.
Chapter 4
Finally getting official confirmation that my original self-diagnosis was right brought both confusion and an immense sense of relief
