Warning: whilst this blog is never especially funny, this entry is especially not especially funny. It does have a slight dig at someone from the telly though, in an attempt to prove how hip and relevant I am.
The NHS is getting a lot of gyp at the moment, from the usual suspects. I am sure it is not perfect and I have had bad experiences at its hands, but the critics are hardly agenda free and so I feel compelled to redress the balance in my own humble corner of the internet.
Having met psoriasis sufferers from other countries I’ve benefitted from several reminders of just how damned lucky I am to live in this fair isle. Helen – The Flaky Fashionista – is from Ireland as has hand to fork out for every cream and every UV session. The latter were over 40 quid a time – I had to have it three days a week for about three months. I have to tell a lot of jokes to earn that kind of money. Talking of jokes, my fellow comedian Wayne Deakin and I bonded over our shared assignations with this red mistress of the skin – I worked with him this weekend in Liverpool and we compared patches. In Australia he spends about $240 (about £120) a time on tubes of cream to treat an outbreak. You’ve seen the coverage on my body. In his position I’d need to get a bigger boat on which to tell and awful lot of jokes to a group of lottery winners with money to burn.
The most moving encounter I had in this regard was at a Doctor Who convention in Chicago last year when a gentleman left my show – My Stepson Stole My Sonic Screwdriver – because he hadn’t know about its psoriatic content and it messed with his head a bit. He came to apologise (which wasn’t necessary) and told me his story. His partner clearly loved him but there was a lot of pain there for both of them. Whilst she and my wife shared their experiences I listened as he explained how the condition had led to him losing work and so his medical insurance no longer covered him and so he couldn’t treat his severe condition. The doctors under whose care we was under stopped looking after him when he no longer had the requisite resources. And I thought Leah from The Apprentice was as cold a doctor as you could find. As a result this poor fellow was now scarred physically and emotionally and was not in a position to secure much work. A ridiculous, callous self perpetuating situation which left him feeling helpless and in a huge amount of pain.
And me, here in the UK? I pay prescription charges – a fraction of the money paid by anyone above for the huge variety of treatments that I have outlined in this blog. I am a self-employed itinerant player, the kind of figure I would need to match what my fellow flakies have to fork out is beyond my reach. The extensive and dogged campaign my condition has waged on my skin for the past 25 years would have required a serious financial investment, just so I could not endure excruciating pain and emotional shame every day. I’m surely a better citizen when I’m not like that? Had I had to practically bankrupt myself to maintain my treatment I probably would have given up – not because the condition is bearable, but because psoriasis sufferers allow themselves to go through much more than they actually should because what we have isn’t life threatening. For many years I endured an unnecessary level of physical and mental discomfort because I thought that was my lot in life – it was only when the specialists at the Royal Free told me that I absolutely didn’t have to live like that that I was made aware that there was much that could be done and treatments which could have an effect I had hitherto only dreamed of (and that I didn’t have to pay for them).
Had that not happened, and had I neglected my treatment for financial comfort, I almost certainly wouldn’t have been able to work, so would have been a drain in the state rather than a taxpaying contributor to it. And to be perfectly honest, the level of agony that would have resulted from a cessation of my treatment, and the anguish that would have accompanied that … I’d have probably topped myself. And I don’t mean that metaphorically.
And that wouldn’t have made anyone laugh. I know I don’t contribute much to society, but I like to think that my continued presence on this Earth is worth something to some people.
And if that is the case, I have the NHS to thank.