It might sound strange but in some ways I was relieved when it became clear leukaemia was responsible for my symptoms.
When I was ill I did the one thing I promised myself I would never do - use the internet to diagnose what was wrong.
I had entered all my symptoms and, according to the world wide web, I had ME. In some respects I found the prospect of this condition even more distressing.
Anyway, in A&E the doctors quickly established that my heart and other major organs were OK with the exception of a considerably enlarged spleen and liver.
Admittedly I found this pretty alarming.
More armfuls of blood were taken leaving my veins like sieves, not a particularly enjoyable experience for someone who is a bit squeamish.
I was then transferred to the haematology ward at Sheffield's Royal Hallamshire Hospital.
Typically leukaemia is relatively easy to diagnose, it can often be done within 24 hours, but my precise problem remained difficult for the doctors to get a handle on.
Looking back it must have been about three weeks before they were ready to begin treatment, in the meantime my illness was monitored and I received my first blood transfusions.
This is a strange experience. Imagine someone else's blood flowing slowly towards your arm. You can see the red getting ever closer and wonder what it's going to feel like, whose blood it is and reflect on how weird the whole concept is.
But then after the first bag is in you just feel so much better that you never have those feelings again - you just want more!
Those early weeks were difficult. Not knowing what is wrong with you is sometimes far worse than knowing the challenges you face.
I can remember walking around the ward and seeing lots of people with the distinctive hair loss that follows chemotherapy. I also saw lots of very ill patients. I had not really thought about leukaemia until I arrived on the ward.
On my strolls around, closer inspection revealed that paintings on the walls were all in memory of loved ones. Someone had also placed a copy of Psalm 23, the 'walk through the valley of the shadow of death' one, on one of the sides of the corridors.
I slowly realised that I could be in a pretty difficult situation.
Then, when one of the doctors was called away, I peered into the tray that had been left behind. There were several cards which had come back from blood test results. I nervously flicked through them. Each in turn simply said 'Leukaemia?'
Now I was bricking it.
Then the diagnosis finally came; I had Acute Myeloid Leukaemia (AML).