Hold your breast - err.... I mean... Your Breath! The ensuing saga isn't short, but it's worth reading. At least I think it is.
When I was in my early 20's, I made a fool-hardy attempt at 'quitting caffeine. You see, genetic heart disease runs in my family, and I thought I was doing my heart a favor by eliminating caffeine from my diet.
Two days after my last cup of coffee, I went to the Emergency Room with a particular migraine that was so bad that the nurse in the ER had to put me in a separate, very dark exam room. They put me in a Geri chair (old person's nursing home chair!), restraining me so my flailing wouldn't injure myself, put an ice pack on my forehead, and she told me that 'The Dr. will be in soon to see you." Keeping the light OFF, she closed the door as she left. When Dr. came in the room to see me, he forgot and switched on the overhead light in the room.
I am here to tell you; Linda Blair's projectile vomiting had nothing on me! From across that small room, my spew hit the ER Dr. right in the chest. He went running back out the door. He came back in a few minutes later - wearing a new, white lab coat - and carrying a small pen light.
He learned that there was a reason that I as sitting in the dark.
Migraine + light = projectile vomiting.
He finished his examination using that pen light. Occasionally, the sill man got too close to my face with that damned pen light, and my instant heaving told him that perhaps, he should move that tiny - but bright! - light farther away from my face before I made his new lab coat look like another Jackson Pollock painting!
All of those events happened because I thought I was doing myself a favor and and I should quit caffeine.
After TWO Imitrex (Migraine) shots, and another 2 hours of observation, as I walked out of the exam room, the Dr. pointed in the direction of the hospital cafeteria and said, "Go. Get. A. Cup. Of. Coffee. Now."
HOWEVER.... that does seem to be the pattern in my life.
My Dr. urges me to keep bicycling, because that is the only exercise my body will allow me to do (long story!)..... She knows I can't wear a bicycle helmet because it causes the psoriatic arthritis in my neck to act up, giving me severe headaches. She gave me the "OK" to bicycle without a helmet, saying, "You can't stop bicycling. Your legs will do down-hill quickly. Please keep bicycling - but PLEASE BE CAREFUL!"
and.... I have psoriasis. Seven yrs. ago, I had over 300 lesions the size of half dollars - on my legs alone. I had not seen the skin on my elbows in 20 years, and my stomach was one huge bloody, scaly mess.
(NO.... !!! You don't have 'just the right cream for that!', either. It's a genetic autoimmune condition - and lies in every cell in the human body for your entire life. At best, any cream on the damned planet will turn this stuff from a red, dry, scaly, itchy mess to a hot pink, shiny mess - but creams can't eradicate it. I can't possibly relay to you the number of times people have looked at my lesions - before tanning - and said, off the cuff and without additional thought, "Oh, you need to use lotion!" or "I have the perfect cream that you need!" I just look at said individual, roll my eyes, and I say, "Oh, really? If there was a cream that would totally eliminate psoriasis - which is a genetic condition, and it's DNA code lies in every fricken cell of the human body, then there would be a line around the block at every pharmacy on the damned planet! Such a 'miracle cream' does not exist!"
Do you, dear reader, think they got my message? I think not. :) )
The medicine that the dermatologist wanted me to use is $600 / month, and it is extremely toxic to the liver. He told me to 'put rubber gloves on, and then put this stuff all over your body!" My answer to him: "WHY THE SAME HELL USE GLOVES? TOXICITY IS TOXICITY!"
He answered me, "Your only other choice is to go outside as much as possible. If you don't have that much time to spend in the sun, go to a tanning salon. If you don't have time to go to a tanning salon at least 3 times a week, buy your own tanning bed."
For two years, I spent $70 a month for a membership to a tanning salon. Faithfully, I drove 3 times a week to tan. Within two weeks, every lesion I had on my body was *gone*. My skin was 100% clear.
That was 7 years ago. Spending the money, taking my time to drive to the tanning salon, etc, quickly 'lost any original charm that it might have held', and I bought my own professional-line, full-size tanning bed.
I don't mean to be grody, but Psoriasis is a genetic condition that will attack any area of the skin 'where the sun doesn't shine.' When I'm in my tanning bed - every day - I have to remove the plugs from my ear piercings while I tan, AND, for the first 15 minutes of the half hour that I spend in that tanning bed every day, I have to *SIT* on it.... you know... to tan 'where the sun doesn't shine'!
Otherwise, I will get psoriasis lesions THERE - if you know what I mean.
(During the St. Louis franchise of the annual World Naked Bike Ride, I have never been more glad than I am at this moment to have a genetic skin disease! There are a *LOT* of pasty white people that are naked on bicycles, and because of psoriasis, I don't have one square inch of white skin on my body.
I had to make a choice: 1) Look like a leper or 2) Look like George Hamilton and Moses' love child.
I chose the 'George - Moses' thing. It looks better on me!
Now..... If I could only find a Dr. that tells me to drink and smoke!
:D
- Michael
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