Having been suffering from a lingering infection for three weeks and also having promised the doctor's that if my temperature went up again I would go in....

I dutifully phoned the hospital on Sunday and told the on call Oncologist my symptoms.  She told me to attend A&E - the only way to get a chest x ray and bloods done.  Of course it was a long wait, and eventually they decided they would admit me.

Because my x-rays were only giving a very mild pattern of what could be infection the doctor's could not and still haven't decided whether it is infection or damage from one of my Chemo drugs - Bleomycin - known for it's ferocity on the lungs.

So the tests began, I had a CT scan on Monday where I was injected with a dye and very quickly afterwards the scan begins. Then you do a regular scan.

The sensation this dye causes is most disconcerting - it gives you the feeling that you are passing urine even though you are not.  I was convinced!

Later that day I was given one of my antibiotics through my Hickman line and had the same sensation - don't know if it was the drug or remainders of the earlier dye.

On Tuesday I had another test.  I had to breathe in some "stuff" in Nuclear medicine! and then lie on an uncomfortable slab for 40 minutes.  Then get injected with more "stuff" and lie for a further 20 minutes while pictures were taken of my lungs and kidneys. I have no idea what this procedure is called, but it is mind numbingly boring and lots of other bits go numb too!

The room I was in was occupied by two ladies and myself - one a 74 year old woman with cancer in her chest who had had 21 days of radiotherapy.  When I got there she seemed quite frail but with a quick sense of humor - however, on the Monday morning when she had rudely told the physiotherapist to leave her alone she wasn't fit that day and she had replied that she wouldn't be able to go home until she could walk down the corridor.  The change in that woman. By sheer will she made herself well, cracking jokes and criticizing the hospital.  We were the "difficult" room, obviously, because we were on the ball.  We had to be, we all had the wrong drugs given to us on numerous occasions, if we hadn't questioned it who knows what would happen. Her husband of 53 years would visit daily and they acted like a teenage couple - she putting lipstick on and got her hair done before he came. A real example of love.

The other occupant of the room was not so strong, she was a lady of 66, who I fear was a little vain.  She did not consider herself an old lady and resented anyone who treated her as such. She is getting chemotherapy and is not as much of a fighter - content to get other people to help her up (though she managed perfectly well during the night when she had no-one to ask).

Initially she was very depressed and was worried about returning home as she lives alone. It was a sad story and got me down a bit. But she too, seemed to have improved slightly by the end of the week.

Monday they had risen to 0.5, and on Monday night I did some visualization, then again on Tuesday morning before they came to get my blood and it rose to 2.0. 

On Weds 6.0 and Friday 7.3. 

All the doctors and nurses had scoffed at my visualizing - and my doc found my description of my neutrophils as little fluffy creatures as hilarious, but she admitted it was obviously working (a triumph) when she came to tell me to stop it now - my counts were getting too high!!

On Wednesday the results of the earlier tests showed some signs of infection, which was good. The docs were now narrowing it to between Bleomycin damage and PCP.  A pneumonia associated with immuno-suppressed patients. We were all rooting for PCP which is odd, hoping for a potentially fatal disease but I'd rather that than permanent drug damage.

I was referred to the Chest doctor who came and examined me and told me about the procedure I would be having the next day, a Broncoscopy. This would be a device inserted into my nose and down into my lung which would have a camera, would wash out the lung and take a biopsy. There is a 1 in 20 chance of puncturing the lung in this procedure - a statistic I was of course ecstatic about. The stinging anesthetic up the nose that smelled of banana's didn't sound too good either.

The next day I discovered the true horrors of this procedure. The banana smelling nightmare actually makes your nose and throat explode and eyes stream.  You choke.  It then numbs your entire throat thus rendering you unable to swallow properly and feel like you can't breathe, as I was having breathing difficulties anyway this was pretty scary. Then, because they needed my co-operation during the procedure they would not sedate me heavily, so they need to give me anesthetic to the back of my throat.  What the doctor the day before hadn't told me was that to administer the anesthetic they would go in with a huge needle through the front of my throat!!!!

It is, without doubt, the scariest thing I have ever experienced. 

At this point, remember, I'm not sedated at all - the worst bit!  The other thing is that they stick this needle in, inject cocaine, which feels like very spicy stuff has gone down the wrong way making you choke - but they tell you NOT to choke until they the needle out.  I didn't succeed in this so they had to do the whole thing again! You try not choking when you are choking- impossible. So now in severe trauma I am sedated. 

I recovered in another room and found to my extreme discomfort that I remembered absolutely nothing after the injection, seemingly they use the "date rape" drug.  I feel very weird knowing I was conscious and responding to orders but have absolutely no recollection of it.

The whole thing left me feeling very weird.