The rabbit hole in my very own Wonderland gets deeper as two bottles arrive in the post. The instructions that come with them extend to slightly more than 'Drink Me' but only just.

With all the tests that I've already had and in trying to adjust to my period of waiting I had completely forgotten that I am due to have a CT scan. The date for this, it would appear, has now been set.

A common physical symptom of my form of Leukaemia, is an enlarged spleen. Time was when the treatment included its removal but its effectiveness was limited and it meant a lifetime taking drugs to compensate for the lost organ. This is no longer the common practice but for completeness my consultant still wants to take a peek.

Clearly something that's vital to my existence I feel ashamed that until this month I didn't even know where my spleen was let alone what it did. Knowledge of its location probably left my brain no sooner than I closed the paper in my GCSE Biology exam. Washed away in a post exam booze up with the swathes of other information school had pounded into me that I assumed I'd never have need for again.

The two bottles have arrived with a letter that, unlike the variety of stock letters I've been receiving from the hospital, contains an unremitting thread of pessimism throughout:

"Your doctor has requested that you have a CT examination." it begins, the full stop I read as a 'tut'. An inference that this is all going to be a great inconvienince to Radiology as it's right in the middle of their coffee break. Half way down the page a line, I would have thought was unnecessary but they feel the need to write in bold, goes "Please DO NOT assume the result of the test will be normal." as if anyone who is in need of such a test, whilst coming to terms with their predicament, needs further reminding that life isn't that rosy right now and may get even more bleak.

There then follows instructions on what to do with the bottles or more importantly their contents. One is to be drunk on Sunday night, the other Monday morning. They need to be diluted with water and, if I want, I can "add juice for flavour".

I've not had a CT before, nor have I opened the bottles for a sniff, but I'm guessing no amount of juice is ever going to cover the taste of the X Ray dye these bottles contain. I shouldn't judge to soon I guess; it might be tasteless. And I should be thankful: the leaflet that came with them suggests that the contents could be take anally! Although for that they'd need to have supplied either bottles with more rounded corners or at the very least a funnel.

The leaflet also lists the possible side effects and I only hope that I get none of them. Almost without exception they seem to require rapid hospitalisation or are far worse than my disease itself. Nothing I really want to deal with late on Sunday night when I pop the first one. Only one way to find out though really. I've just got to keep walking the path.