Alexandria - coping with the Christmas Holiday

The surprising news that I had succumbed to a disease common in Victorian novels was less affecting than the timing of it. I felt that 1998 had been so poor on a personal level that it stood to reason I would contract a First Class disease when everyone around me was catching the common cold! What was more distressing was being diagnosed 2 days before departure for a trip abroad that was going the encompass birthday, Christmas and New Year celebrations. This dismay was compounded by the fact that the doctor could not confirm at this stage that I did have tuberculosis (just that it looked likely from my chest x-ray) and secondly that I felt fit and healthy and was exhibiting none of the traditional symptoms of the disease.

Once my sputum results confirmed the doctor's suspicions a few days later, my immediate reaction was relief that the bronchoscopy could now be bypassed, followed by a general acceptance of what was to follow. I spent Christmas with my partner and was to meet with the doctor and team to decide whether I would enter the hospital for two weeks isolation or whether this could take place at my home. As it happened, I was admitted into hospital that same afternoon as a negative pressure room became free.

I think I confounded the staff by being content in isolation. Their training and experience tells them that a lot of patients get quite depressed. I was glad to end the period of speculation and the loneliness of self-imposed confinement and to start treatment. I found it liberating to leave everyday concerns at the door and surrender responsibility to someone else. I was fortunate not to feel unwell, so had energy to read books, have visits and listen to the radio. As I wasn't to see a mouth for 2 weeks, I thought I would commit the amusing sight of friends in orange masks to film. The final photo in the album is of a duck, just to confirm the uncanny likeness.

I did find the constant activity around me quite draining (it's a strange sensation having people walk in and out of your bedroom uninvited) and I can see that routine becomes very important to patients. If meals or observations are late you get anxious. When I was told that I could 'leave hospital now' (a day earlier than anticipated) I actually felt quite distressed - that I hadn't had time to mentally prepare for the step back into reality.

That I had no adverse reaction to the drugs was a major relief. As it is, I find the pills very user friendly - I think of them as part of my daily vitamin ritual so they are no real inconvenience. The frustration I experience is with the gaps in knowledge about TB. I don't know how or when I contracted it (I'm told it could have come from travelling in third world countries, from being born in New York, from sitting next to someone on the bus or it may have lain dormant since my childhood and chosen 1998 to reveal itself). I also worry that my immune system has failed me for some reason (especially as the disease is apparently difficult to catch and I am considered low risk). The most difficult moment for me therefore was a week into my isolation when I was told that it was standard practice to offer TB patients an HIV test as the two can be linked. This seemed just too big an issue to take on board at the time.

On a positive level, the endless kindness and support from friends and the hospital staff was overwhelming. The disease made me address the smoker's fear - I discovered that I didn't have lung cancer - and throw away my cigarettes. Diagnosis also explained the feeling that had been apparent for some time of not being quite 100% well, and was a signal for me to take better care of myself. Having TB puts the unimportant details of everyday life into perspective - and for about five minutes makes you interesting company! I've also got some great photos.