I’ve been a bit quiet on the old psoriasis front lately but it’s still there, lingering. I actually noticed that my arms aren’t in the greatest of shape yesterday when I went to Maidstone and the offices of Abbvie in order to talk to some nurses from all over the country about being a self-medicator. It was a 9 hour round trip but worth it I hope, even if the lady at reception was one of those people who regularly occur on my life who sees fit to correct me when I tell them my name: “Hadoke” I said, pronouncing it accurately. “Haddokey,” she replied as she read from her list, presumably thinking that I’ve got to 41 without knowing what I’m actually called. I mean, I know it’s a silly name and one that doesn’t sound how it is spelt but you’d think if anyone had the key that unlocked the secrets to its pronunciation it’d be me.
Anyway, the disparate group of nurses were speaking to patients with various ailments and I was there to explain my injections, how I administer them, how I feel about them, how I remember to do them, and my thoughts in general about my condition. All of those things have been well rehearsed here so I won’t repeat myself but an analogy that I came up with went down well and seemed useful. I emphasised that psoriasis isn’t so much a skin condition as an auto- immune problem and that when I get a sore throat it is a bit like a building detecting smoke – the alarms and sprinklers and everything go off everywhere no matter where the fire is. This is a similar reaction to when my skin goes into overdrive when my throat has a problem – my immune system isn’t targeting the throats, so my skin over repairs itself necessarily. Those of you with properly functioning immune systems get a more efficient response.
As for my progress, I’m still on Adalimumab every two weeks, with a vitamin D booster and the usual mixture of shampoos and scalp application for my head (still dusty unless I’m really on it) and Pro-Topic for my face (which is keeping it in check very nicely). I have been exercising and trying to limit alcohol with varying degrees of success (“Yay, I’ve had two weeks off the booze – why don’t I celebrate with a swimming pool full of wine and a bucket of gin?”). My arms are a bit itchy and slightly worrying even though my last check up (and bloods) were very positive. It never quite lets you relax this thing, but I’m not letting it get in my way.