As one of the executive producers I was responsible for helping to shape the initial concept and from the start I was excited by the idea, but also found it pretty terrifying from a production point of view. 

With any other documentary series you'd spend months filming stories that developed and unfolded over time. With this we only had one chance at it and for many of the stories we didn't know quite what would happen on that day.

We wanted the day to feel as 'everyday' as possible, so Thursday, 18 October seemed the ideal candidate - midweek and neither in the middle of winter of summer.

Then came the enormous task of persuading NHS services to allow us to film with them. We spent about five months securing permissions, and researching with medical staff on the ground to find out what would be happening that we could film on 18 October.

And then there was the not insignificant task of assembling the camera crews, all of whom had to be trusted to go out into some of the most sensitive environments and return with meaningful footage.

On the day itself I was sat with my fellow executive producers in an office surrounded by white boards and phones, knowing that apart from react to what came up on the day, there was little more we could do. The die was cast.

In the end we had over 100 camera crews filming across the UK in 88 NHS services, including hospitals, GP surgeries, community services, ambulances and helicopters.

There were a small number of stories that were planned - like a scheduled surgery - but there were a huge number where we didn't know which patients were going to come in, who was going to give birth, who was going to end up with the emergency services and of course whether they would allow us to film with them.

When the crews returned, they brought with them a total of 1,217 hours of footage, but to be honest we had no real idea what that would all amount to until we started assembling stories in the edit.

And in some ways I felt this was the scariest part of the endeavour - knowing that there was no way back. So much effort and resources for just one day.

A team of brilliant editors and directors spent five months making meaning out of the material and fashioning eight episodes that retain a sense of range, amazing juxtaposition and randomness, while also being loosely themed so that the programmes always feel more than the sum of their parts.

I hope that the series makes you ask questions and look at the NHS in a different way and also a look at ourselves - we'll all rub up against this institution in some way during our lives.

Magnus Temple is an executive producer of Keeping Britain Alive: The NHS In A Day.

Keeping Britain Alive: The NHS In A Day continues on Tuesdays at 9pm on BBC Two and BBC Two HD. For further programme times please see the episode guide.

Comments made by writers on the BBC TV blog are their own opinions and not necessarily those of the BBC.

Jasmine meets hoarder Allan and wife Marion in Britain's Biggest Hoarders

Some of the audience comments on the previous blog post really touched me, like this from Kay:

"I don't quite know where to begin to express all that I have felt watching this programme and the peace that has come from feelings about "not being the only one"."

And this from Alex:

"My brother was a hoarder and he eventually died through self neglect and the appalling conditions he lived in. He was only 50."

It's heartbreaking but the fact that so many people came forward to say "I'm struggling too!" has highlighted what I already suspected: that my family is not alone in dealing with this.

It's inspired me to help more people and allow them to tell their stories as part of a new documentary series being made for BBC One about hoarding.

My mum's battle with hoarding is ongoing and although she now has a lot more space there is still plenty left to do and we are chipping away at it, little by little.

It took her more than 50 years to get to this stage and we've learned that a quick fix doesn't work in the long run. I feel that sensitive and sympathetic support is the only way forward.

Jasmine Harman with her mum Vasoulla in Britain's Biggest Hoarders

I am so proud to be able to help others through my own experiences with mum.

If you live with this problem and you're battling to get the help you need or you want to tell your story, I would love to hear from you.

The independent production company Twofour (who made the first two programmes) are now making the new series on hoarding for BBC One.

The title of the series isn't decided yet but there will be three hour-long episodes.

UPDATE May 2013: Twofour have now found all the contributors to the series. Britain's Biggest Hoarders was broadcast on BBC One starting 9 May.

Jasmine Harman is the presenter of Britain's Biggest Hoarders and My Hoarder Mum And Me.

Comments made by writers on the BBC TV blog are their own opinions and not necessarily those of the BBC.

Jasmine Harman with her mum Vasoulla Savvidou at Vasoulla's home

She was sleeping on a scrap of floor in the hall as each of her five bedrooms were inaccessible.

Yet she was not still unable to face letting any of her possessions go, nor could she seem to resist the temptation to accumulate more and more stuff.

I think mum wanted to show other hoarders and their families that they were not lost causes and I wanted to continue the work we'd started, both in the house and raising awareness.

For years we all thought mum was just messy, lazy and reckless with money.

When my youngest brother (then aged 11) was removed from her home when his school insisted that it was not a suitable environment for a child, instead of motivating her to 'tidy up' things got even worse.

Although she desperately wanted him back she was paralysed and received little support from social services or the NHS.

Mum was just supposed to get on with clearing out the house on her own!

In my opinion this would be the same as telling an anorexic to just start eating, or an alcoholic to just stop drinking. It's not as easy as that.

I have to say it has been a huge relief for me not to have to hide this 'shameful' secret anymore.

Even the few people I had told about my mum's house didn't really get it and would make comments which clearly demonstrated their lack of understanding such as "I know what you mean, I'm a complete hoarder too! I've got a whole box full of magazines that I can't throw away!"

Hold on a sec, my mum will show you how to be a proper hoarder!

I really hope that through this documentary I have helped my mum and Alan and Richard, who as you'll see in the programme also struggle with too much stuff.

Alan and Marion Burgess outside their home with Jasmine

When I first arrived at Alan's house I saw the 5 ft high sea of clutter that filled the front garden and I could see the front door, but was left wondering how on earth I'd reach it.

Then I spotted a tiny gap which was the narrow pathway to the house.

Inside books, videos, ornaments, clothes, boxes and other items were stacked floor to ceiling, meaning the only place his wife Marion had to sit down and eat her dinner was on the toilet.

They sleep on half of a double bed as the other half (and the rest of the room) is covered with Alan's belongings and they are forced to visit friends in order to shower as their bathroom is bursting at the seams.

Alan and Richard each have different views of their hoarding.

Whilst Alan feels everything is useful and will only let perished items go, Richard sees that much of what he holds onto is rubbish but still struggles to part with anything.

He has the need to check everything which is frequently the case with hoarders.

One thing they had in common with my mum is that a crisis brought about the need to tackle the hoarding.

For Richard it was his health. When we filmed with him he had just come out of hospital suffering with chest and circulation problems, probably not helped by the fact his house was full of dust, spores and was freezing cold!

Jasmine and Richard Pout at Richard's home

Alan's house is an eyesore and I understand that neighbours' rights must be considered. But I'd like to see local authorities offering help or support for people with his problem.

Instead the course of action Alan's council took was to threaten to prosecute him for the second time.

I feel there are other ways of going about it.

I hope the programme has gone some way to removing the stigma attached to hoarding.

Yes it's messy. Yes it's smelly and unpleasant. But people who make rude comments are the ones who should be ashamed of themselves.

After all you wouldn't laugh at someone who had any other type of illness!

I hope now many hoarders will find the courage to come forward and ask for help and I have set up a website which offers online support and resources.

Hopefully the medical profession will soon give full recognition to Hoarding Disorder and I feel proud of my mum for having been one of the first people in the country to stand up and tell all about the challenges she faces every day.

I think she has been incredibly brave and we've become closer than ever as a result of the documentary.

Crucially I now understand some of the reasons behind her hoarding and we even can have a laugh about it!

Jasmine Harman is the presenter of Britain's Biggest Hoarders.

Britain's Biggest Hoarders is on Tuesday, 8 May at 9pm on BBC One and BBC One HD.

Comments made by writers on the BBC TV blog are their own opinions and not necessarily those of the BBC.

She found that Nottinghamshire Healthcare NHS Trust, one of the largest in country, shared her strong belief that the documentary was a real chance to help break down stigma around mental illness.

Once we started looking for contributors for Sectioned, however, we soon discovered there were very few people both well enough and brave enough to appear in the film. But following the guidance of some of the Trust's consultant psychiatrists and nursing staff, we began to meet patients who had an unfolding story we could follow.

It was absolutely crucial that anyone who might take part was well enough to make a decision about being filmed. Before I shot a single frame, lawyers from the BBC and the NHS Trust drew up a rigorous protocol.

A key staff member treating each potential contributor would sign a form to confirm the patient had the mental capacity to consent to filming and that they understood what it would entail.

The contributors themselves had to give three levels of consent - in writing, on-camera (which you see in the programme) and then at the end once they'd seen the final film.

We checked in with staff every time we wanted to film and they had the power to stop us at any time. Once these safeguards were in place, we could begin to tell their stories.

We met Anthony quite early on and it was obvious how deeply frustrated he was with the psychiatric system. He's been in and out of hospital for 26 years since a breakdown back in 1984, but rejects the label of schizophrenia he's been given and hates the medication he has to take when under section.

He feels trapped in a Catch 22-like situation - if he protests against taking medication, he's told that shows what little insight he has into his illness and proves how much he needs to take the medication.

But when Anthony's daughter Marcia described the level of self-neglect Anthony sinks to when not on his medication, it was clear his story was more complicated than it first appeared.

I met Andrew on one of Nottingham's treatment and therapy wards. A month earlier, during a paranoid episode, he'd been involved in a high-speed chase with three police cars and when he was finally caught, he was arrested and then sectioned.

Andrew recently retired from a long and fulfilling career as a consultant pathologist despite enduring bouts of bipolar disorder for 30 years.

Even when unwell, Andrew seemed to have a real insight in to his illness and after our first conversation he was keen to take part in the film.

But he was still in the manic stage of a bipolar episode and it was a few weeks before his consultant was happy enough with his progress to allow any filming.

When Andrew's mood sunk into the depressive stage of the illness he found the filming very arduous and some days he couldn't face it. But such was his belief in the project, he admirably continued when he could.

The day we met Richard on the intensive care ward, he was hearing voices and experiencing powerful suicidal thoughts.

Now 34, Richard had his first psychotic episode 15 years ago and was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. Despite the delusions Richard was experiencing during our first meeting, his consultant was confident Richard still had the capacity to decide about being in the film.

Lucy and I were immediately struck by how charming and positive Richard is about life despite the huge challenges he faces.

The intensive care ward is an intimidating place for the uninitiated, but Richard soon made us feel comfortable and although it was hard at first to know how to react to the long pauses while Richard listened to 'the gods' in his head, we soon got used to it.

I set out to try and build relationships with Anthony, Richard and Andrew that were not based just on discussions about their mental health.

Perhaps the fact that that turned out to be so easy says something about my own prejudices going in to the project.

These men don't want to be defined by mental illness, although that is often how they feel others see them.

We wanted to make a film that gave a voice to those whose identity is often masked by a label and all three men have said making the film gave them that opportunity. That they found the experience of making Sectioned helpful is what I am most proud of.

Ben Anthony is the director of Sectioned, co-produced by the Open University, and is available on iPlayer until Thursday, 26 May.

Sectioned is part of the Out Of Mind season, a series of programmes which focuses on mental health issues.

For more information about Sectioned or for information on how to get help with the issues raised in this blog post, please visit the BBC Headroom website.

I rang Sheila, Jimmy's mum, within 10 minutes of being asked to make the film. As the lynchpin of the Hobley family I knew she'd be the key to the success of my relationship with all of them. We had to get on well as I'd be spending the next five months following their lives and I needed them to trust me.

From that first call, Sheila was warm, reassuring and very open. She's a great communicator. Sheila's two other boys, George (Jimmy's twin) and Alex, 16, both have autism too. But it was Jimmy who was the most profoundly autistic, and whose future Sheila feared for the most.

When a leaflet advertising disco classes dropped through their letterbox by chance, Sheila took the twins along, little realising she was embarking on a course that would change Jimmy's life.

Sheila talked about how she and her husband Andy believed that dancing had clicked a switch in Jimmy's head.

She told me that at seven he'd been unable to read and write and lived in a world of his own. Within months of dancing he had started to read and write and had found something he truly enjoyed.

"I think he was always dancing," she said. "He was always dancing in his head but he needed a dance teacher to show him the steps."

My next call was to the National Autistic Society. I wanted some advice on working with a family living with autism and how to make the filming process as easy as possible for them. I also wanted to check out Sheila's assertion that dancing had initiated such profound changes in Jimmy.

The press officer said that they had heard similar stories from other parents but as far as they were aware there had never been any academic studies to show the link between dance, or any other kind of exercise and intellectual development.

This was disappointing as I was hoping to really explore this theme in the film. My relationship with the family and the story they had to tell was now even more important, as the documentary would solely rely on their personal experiences.

Within days, I travelled to Redcar to meet Sheila, Andy and the boys. Kimi Gill from the National Autistic Society came too, principally, I think, to represent the family's interests.

Once again, Sheila was engaging and it was clear we'd get on. Andy was equally relaxed and let Sheila do most of the talking.

When the boys came in from school, my first impressions were telling. Jimmy leaned against the door frame watching what was happening without saying a word. Alex said hello, then disappeared upstairs not to be seen again. George came bounding into the room talking and full of news about his day.

On the drive back to the station, Kimi told me she thought that Jimmy and Alex were more typical of people with autism: quiet, reserved and finding it hard to make and keep eye contact. George is unusual with his openness, eye contact and huge emotional intelligence.

The next time I met the boys was with my assistant producer, Alan, and Jimmy was a different character altogether - happy, chatty and fine abut being filmed. George was also very keen to appear on camera and to do some filming himself. It was Alex, the older son, who was the most uncertain and reserved. He stayed that way for the rest of our time with the family.

I asked Jimmy to show us some of his warm up routines and we filmed him the first evening with his dance teacher, Anita. It was clear that Jimmy has a real gift for dance.

As he told us: "When I'm on the dance floor I feel free and like I don't actually have a disability, I feel like everybody else."

It was lovely to see the relationship he has with Anita and how well they work together. Over time we saw just how much hard work Jimmy has put into his dance with five disco classes a week, a ballet lesson on Fridays and competitions at least twice a month.

The first insight came when we filmed the large dance class on Saturday morning. The class runs for three hours and is incredibly intense. Those kids are fit and incredibly bendy! It gave us a clue as to the championship levels of dance we might see at the competitions.

We saw our first dance competition in Gateshead in September, two months after filming had started. The first thing that hits you is the volume - it's so loud we had to lip read - and that goes on for 10 hours or more.

The next shock is the transformation in the dancers from super-fit kids to exotic birds of paradise with amazing costumes, bright orange tans and Las Vegas showgirl make up (seemingly obligatory for all the girls from four to 20). Some of the dancers are incredible.

Jimmy was a star and we thought, with perhaps some bias, that he was fantastic. As he says, he really comes alive on the dance floor, his concentration and memory for routines is amazing.

These competitions do take their toll on the family. The days are long and with no-one to mind him at home, George has to come too. He says he finds it really boring and you can see why - there's lots of hanging about between rounds.

Competitions are also expensive. Costumes can cost upwards of £700, and then there's the travel, food in the venues and entry fees. It's not a cheap hobby and the family have had to make sacrifices. George seems to feel it the most keenly.

Over the months working with the family, Alan and I got a real insight into just how difficult it can be living with children with autism. We learned that we had to stick to arrangements and promises as changes affect their mood for the rest of the day.

As all the boys had short attention spans, we filmed with them in a concentrated way for perhaps 10 minutes and then they'd lose interest and we'd have to have a (long) break. Other than these basic similarities the boys are very different characters and their autism presents in different ways.

Jimmy is very focused on his goals and likes being on his own doing his own thing, paying little heed to anything else whereas George is the opposite. He craves attention and loves talking.

Like most teenagers, Alex wants to be with his friends and is desperate to be accepted by them as "normal". This was a strong theme for Jimmy too and it's wonderful that he may be able to go to a mainstream school now.

The boys are happy and relaxed at home where they feel safe but unsure and unsafe in the outside world. They have no road sense and little comprehension of danger and consequences. A parent has to be around all the time and they can't enjoy the simple pleasures of playing out on the street or going to play with other children.

It puts a huge strain on Andy and Sheila especially as George also has behavioural problems and enjoys challenging strangers and his parents in public spaces like the supermarket.

Over the months I spent with the family I became really fond of them all. I learned that autism can manifest itself in many ways and it's hard to describe absolute characteristics. Each boy was totally different and affected differently.

One thing they did all agree on was that they are going to find it really hard to survive financially beyond school. They all said they knew getting a job was going to be really hard and to live an independent life was almost a dream.

Perhaps this was one reason they were so supportive of Jimmy - he has a chance to live his dream of becoming a professional dancer and really making the most of his opportunities. I really hope he does.

Liz Bloor is the producer for Autism, Disco & Me.

You can read an interview with Sheila Hobley, Jimmy's mum, on the BBC Three blog.

Autism, Disco & Me is on BBC Three at 9pm on Thursday, 6 May. The programme is part of BBC Three's Living With Autism season