Tag Archives: rash

Live to Work? Work to Live?

workI was having a chat with the boss the other day over Hob Nobs and coffee.

After my exploding (and very icky) skin condition brought on by the sun and a healthy dose of Herr Uhthoff, he seemed quite surprised at my eagerness to return to work.

My arms are still covered in the rash despite steroids, ice packs and much lamenting.

Thinking about it, I was surprised too. I said to him, ‘isn’t it weird that I know I’m going to feel rotten again coming to work, but I still want to? Does that make me strange?’

I guess it’s something all of us with MS who work will face at some point. It’s 50/50. In work, I know I’ll be tired, I know I’ll trip over, I know I’ll garble my words and flare up in the sun, but I still do  it. Why?

Perhaps because the alternative is too frightening to contemplate.

For me, it would be all too easy to make MS into a full-time job. I’ve been there, done that, way back in the bad old days. Hospital appointments, blood tests, a fatigue management course, support groups. They all take up time. Fitting them all around a job, a Teenager, a kitten and just running the house all takes its toll.

But at the moment, work is my personal statement and a yah-boo-sucks to MS – it’s something I’m clinging on to. It gives me routine and pride in myself, and I’m planning to do it as long as possible. Of course, if I had a hunky, tall, chiselled-jawed, sensitive and caring significant other who earned shed-loads in hedge-funds, I may think differently. But I’m the only source of income in our little cottage – The Teenager needs pizza and the kitten needs her Dreamies.

So, in reality, I will still stumble out of bed and get ready for work. Some days I might want to crawl back under the duvet and hide. Believe me, it’s very, very tempting. But there’s always Hob Nobs …

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Things That Go Bump In The Night

rashThe boss has had a lot of fun this week, pointing at me, saying ‘ewwwww’ and ‘commiserating’.

Not the foot-drop, the fatigue, the red face or dropping my buttie. Nope, something spectacular and brand new.

I have broken out in a humungous rash of blisters, all over my arms and neck. And ears. Ears! I now have Spock ears.

For some bizarre reason, unknown to MS or the thyroid problems, I have erupted in icky, hot, itchy blisters. Even The Teenager is impressed, which takes some doing.

One GP appointment later, I am back on a course of steroids (meh), plus steroid cream, plus anti-histamines. In the back of my mind, I’m already calculating how much energy these tiny innocuous tablets of Prednisnolone will give me – skirting boards? Spice cupboard? Dusting?

I look awful. The boss likens me to a post-apocalyptic zombie. The blisters itch and burn. I slather steroid cream on them and pull  my sleeves down in shops.

I was back at the doctor’s today, where he posed me in several ways, taking great shots of the rash to send off to a skin expert. Then it was off to the endocrinologist for a follow-up appointment as my thyroid has gone haywire since Alemtuzumab. To be fair, I knew all about the risks and was more than willing to sign up. It just so happens I was the one in three.

Anyway, the endocrinologist told me that my thyroid was going crazy again. In the back of my mind I’m thinking, ‘hmm, weight loss?’. ‘Yes please’.

The upshot is, I have to let them know when I feel a kind of manic energy again, with palpitations. And tremors.

The joy. On the one hand, the slump of MS combined with the up of thyroid. It’s making me kind of confused.

Up? Down?

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