By the end of the day I was almost regretting that I had been drinking so much water throughout the day. I was in the bathroom about every 20 minutes or so.

It started yesterday when I got a twinge and a sort of seize when I used the bathroom. It was different from the feeling I had gotten (or seemed to remember) when I had a urinary tract infection in the past. But I knew something was still definitely wrong. Especially when I got up at 4 a.m. last night to go potty, and then again 20 minutes later, and still getting this seizing twinge of a pain in my very low abdomen.

I decided I'd load up on water today and even--gulp--drink some cranberry juice even though I really can't stand cranberry juice (I found some cran-grape at the gas station, which may not have the same effect as cranberry, but it was all I was willing to tolerate, especially since it wasn't sugar free). (READ MORE)

It's back. And this time I'm definitely blaming the blood/bacteria in my urine on my refillable water bottle. Remember several months ago when I had two horrible infections in the course of two months? Remember that I searched online in vain to blame the problem on my Nalgene bottle, but to no avail? Well, I ditched the Nalgene bottle and the problem went away. Except that when you live in the desert you have to drink water. Lots of water. So I bought another refillable water bottle and drank gallons of water a day. Well, not really, but you get the picture. And what happens? Three months later I'm in agony again.

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It's not unusual for me to be woken in the wee hours of the morning. Typical offenders include No. 1, No. 2, No. 3 and The Mr.'s snoring. Despite the amount of water I *think* I drink, it's surprisingly not to visit the facilities.

But Sunday morning, some time before 5 a.m. I awoke. Confused, not feeling right and uncomfortable. Something propelled me to go potty. Oh, the pain was terrible! I had the same symptoms of blood in my urine (which pretty much mimics a urinary tract infection) that I had at the end of February. This was miserable.

Still uncomfortable, I tried to go back to sleep, but the stinging wouldn't let up. And, well, The Mr. was snoring. I maneuvered around the creeky boards in our 100-year-old home to the living room couch, where I honestly thought I'd be able to fall asleep. But I found myself in the bathroom literally every two minutes squeezing out teeny drops of relief. (READ MORE)