Tag Archives: eczema

10 Signs You Might Be a Damn Hippy.

  1. You can name 10 uses for coconut oil without Googling or checking Pinterest.
  2. Your idea of ‘just like a chocolate milkshake only crunchy’ involved almond milk, bananas, nut butter, and cacao nibs.
  3. You spend an inordinate amount of time picking chia seeds out of your teeth.
  4. You couldn’t clean your house without baking soda and vinegar.
  5. You’ve traded in Chanel for home-crafted scents from Etsy. You persist, despite sometimes smelling suspiciously like an antique store run by an over-enthusiastic herbalist.
  6. You put a lot of food on your face. And underarms (coconut oil, baking powder and arrowroot starch only… so far).
  7. You spend as much time reading cosmetic labels as food labels, and in both cases, that is a lot of time.
  8. You’ve had an angry outburst in the aisles of a supermarket upon discovering the questionable ingredients that are in processed foods you’ve always eaten.
  9. You have the Environmental Working Group’s Skin Deep database in your favourites.
  10. You have not only changed your own diet to one considered unconventional by most of your peers, you’ve converted your family … and your pets.

I’m moving toward crunchy and proud these days.

And my ten uses for coconut oil, besides the aforementioned deodorant: cooking oil, home-made chocolate base, smoothie thickener, hair mask, skin moisturiser, shaving cream, eczema treatment, make-up remover, oil-pulling, and a spoonful with my multivitamin to encourage absorption of fat-soluble vitamins (A, D, E, & K).

Any others? I need MOAR COCONUT OIL (clearly) ๐Ÿ˜€

In, On, Move: A Wellness Series.

On: My skin, since developing autoimmune issues, has become even more of a Goldilocks than it used to be. That product is too harsh and I am burning and rashy and bits of my skin are falling off! That product is too weak and it doesn’t actually do anything! Occasionally though, I find something just right, and I wanted to share what works for me.

Facial wipes are a necessity for me, because I am lazy, but I am also trying really hard to be a grown up and stop going to bed with makeup on. Also, my skin hates water (yes, tap water gives me a rash, because I am a delicate flower) so by washing with water once and using facial wipes once I get to minimise irritation and still not be filthy. Yay!

Too harsh: I tried Wotnot Facial Wipes, and I wanted to love them. They are marked as suitable for sensitive skin, reasonably priced, 100% certified organic, and “free from sulphates, petrochemicals, parabens, artificial preservatives and fragrances”. I used a packet of 25 wipes and was really happy with them, repurchased, and got about half-way through the second pack when my skin started burning and blotching post-use. I bought a third pack, because I am stupid sometimes, and ended up needing to use the rest as body wet-wipes because they made my face burn so horribly. If your skin is less ridiculous than mine, give them a go though.

Too gentle: After my burning experience, I wanted gentle and soothing (also cheap, in case they were another bust) and grabbed some Dr Organics Aloe Vera Wet Wipes. These were indeed soothing and refreshing, and didn’t irritate my skin even by the second pack. Unfortunately, they also didn’t really do much else; my eye makeup would not budge with these, and it didn’t feel like they completely removed my foundation / tinted moisturiser either. I kept using them anyway, failing something better, but when they were out of stock upon trying to buy my third pack, I ended up with…

Just right: Ecocare Facial Cleansing Wipes in Organic Honey and Apple. To be honest, to me these smell… weird. The honey and apple combines into a boozy, mead-and-cider type thing that I don’t love. But the actual wipes are made with organic cotton, and they are soft and grippy, so they actually feel like they are cleaning effectively, and they get rid of every speck of makeup, so I can deal with the smell. They were about $8 for a pack of 25, so not super-cheap but still pretty reasonable. I’m on my second pack and haven’t broken out in hives yet, so it’s looking good. Praise be to the gods of unjustly sensitive skin!

Do you have any recommendations for sensitive skin cleansers / wipes? I’d love to add to my options ๐Ÿ™‚

Note: I bought all of these myself and this is my honest opinion!

Thought for the Day.

One of my favourite things to do used to be going out to this awesome little Pad on Thursday nights with my friends and dancing the night away. I haven’t been in months now – I blamed mostly giving up drinking, poverty, and being busy. Actually, I’m pretty sure I haven’t been since my back surgery last July… hmm.

But it’s a public holiday tomorrow, and my friends are going, and I agreed happily. And I’ve missed it, and I’m glad to be going. But at the same time, as the hours have passed today, I’ve been getting more and more anxious and felt panic tightening my chest.

What if I look awful, because I’m eczema-blotchy and purple-legged and my bald spot is showing? What if I can’t do it without my old, eight-times-what-I-currently-take levels of opiates? What if I’m hobbling and people look at me weird, or I look strange dancing because I’m in pain, or I’m just awkward and a fun-spoiler because it hurts?

So, it appears I may have had some serious fear-avoidance happening without realising it. But tonight I’m determined. What if the worst happens? Well, people will think I’m odd (won’t be the first time), my friends will think I seem grumpy but forgive me because they love me, and I’ll come home early but hopefully still feeling triumphant I gave it a go.

So send good, strong-backed vibes my way and wish me luck! I’m feeling the fear and doing it anyway.

In, On, Move: A Wellness Series.

At the start of the year, I made some resolutions, which I’ve managed to maintain reasonably successfully. The core aims I had were to care for my body and try and minimise the strain on it by being mindful of what I put in my body to nourish it, and what I put on my body in terms of personal care. I also wanted to focus on moving my body when I am able in a way that celebrates the function and strengths my body has, rather than beating myself up because I can’t do things ‘right’, or as punishment for unhealthy eating, or purely to burn calories for aesthetic reasons.

I realise these things probably sound like no-brainers, but it took me a long time to start being kind to my body post-chronic pain and illness. I fought my limitations, berated my body for its weakness, and restricted food and pushed it to exercise in ways that made me unhappy because I was trying to mould it into something it wasn’t. My mental shift has been gradual, and I still have lapses, but I feel like I’m in a much better place than I’ve ever been before in appreciating my body and prioritising my health and wellbeing.

Wellbeing is a huge part of my approach to living with chronic pain and illness. The goal of a lot of current chronic pain management programs, when they can’t cure the source of pain, is to maximise wellbeing, or physical and mental health, even in the presence of illness and pain. My goal is to be as well as I can be given my circumstances, and the resolutions were my way of prioritising that.

Because I’m nosy, and I like hearing about what others do in their pursuit of health, and also because I use this blog to keep myself accountable for continuing to try and implement positive change, I wanted to start sharing some things I’m trying and enjoying in terms of food (in); beauty, personal care, and cleaning products (on); and ways of moving my body (move, obviously).

As with absolutely everything on this blog (and elsewhere on the internet!) these are suggestions. I like recommending what I’ve found helpful, but people vary! You may not have the same issues I have, and you may not approach things the same way I do, and that’s fine. If, however, you see something you think would be helpful for you, please, please, make sure with your health providers that it is safe for you to do, with your particular set of circumstances. Especially in the case of movement, one size does not fit all where sick people are concerned!

In: Having been in a particularly chocolate-craving frame of mind lately, I decided to give making my own chocolate a go. I don’t tolerate dairy, and soy also leaves my digestive system disgruntled, so since cutting those out of my diet store-bought chocolate is pretty hard to come by. I’ve had some luck with organic, raw varieties like Pana and Loving Earth, but they get expensive! I tried this recipe, which was quick, easy, and delicious. I used maple syrup as the sweetener and added in sultanas and crushed cashews to make a Cadbury Fruit and Nut imitation (apparently I am the only person alive who enjoys it!), but the potential varieties are endless. Tastes amazing, and no tummy dramas = bliss.

On: My skin has been struggling this week. My dermatitis seems to be getting worse and worse, and I’ve tried a variety of creams and serums which seemed promising for a day or two, and then exacerbated the problem. I also had a couple of giant, sore pimples, courtesy of having a couple of higher-dose oxycodone days.

My go-to emergency mask is just two parts organic raw honey to one part baking soda. I add in some oats if I’m particularly itchy. I just put the ingredients in a bowl, mix them with a finger, and then goop it on to a dry face (and in this case, chest and arms). Be warned, this can be messy, so do it over the sink. Leave it on for 10 – 30 mins (I like to have a bath in this interim so I’m not dripping honey everywhere), them add some warm water to your hands, work it in to exfoliate with the baking soda a little, and wipe off with a warm washcloth. Use a cotton ball dipped in half-and-half apple cider vinegar and distilled water as a toner afterward if you feel like going full hippie (by the time I followed up with my usualy moisturiser I no longer smelled like a bizarre salad, in case you were wondering).

I have crazily sensitive skin and this doesn’t bother me, but if you’re concerned, either patch test or use less baking soda to begin with. The honey is antimicrobial and helps with infections. I find this leaves my skin smooth, settles the flakes for a day or so (I tend to use it the day before I have somewhere nice to be), and takes the redness and swelling out of spots. Plus, I get a childlike glee out of smearing food all over my face. Just me?

Move: I have been all about yoga this year. I’m noticing distinct differences in my muscle strength with brief daily practice that fill me with glee, and most importantly, they can be done in the privacy of my lounge room, which means I can fearlessly wear a sports bra and shorts, and also do my routine directly in front of an air con vent. Key considerations to getting through a Western Australian summer! (Useless fact: the highest temp in my state this summer was 49 degrees Celcius, which is 120 degrees Farenheit. I can’t even.)

I’ve been mixing up back, neck, and shoulder routines from Ekhart Yoga on Youtube, with this and this being current favourites. She often outlines accommodations if you can’t manage a pose, but generally speaking hatha, yin, and restorative yoga are helpful for people with pain or injury. Several of these poses and stretches have been recommended for me by my physiotherapist, so they suit my issues, but be careful to find something that suits yours if you’re interested.

I’d love to hear what you do to keep yourself well and get some new ideas (like I said, nosy).

Stealing Beauty.

This post is going to be vain and self-indulgent, but I’m putting it out there anyway in case any of you can relate.

I hate what my illness has done to my body. Not in the reduced function and pain (although that sucks too), but to my appearance.

So much of our identity and how others perceive and therefore treat us is constructed from the way we physically present ourselves. I’ve been looking at research into healthcare professionals forming judgements based on their beliefs and attitudes about pain and pain patients, and how that reflects their practice (hint: it does, and often not in good ways). It has been said that it is hard work presenting as a credible pain patient, and that this is particularly difficult for women. We are faced with the dilemma of having to appear ‘sick’ enough to warrant treatment, while still not looking like we’ve ‘let ourselves go’ (because that might mean we’re depressed, and that might mean the pain is all in our heads). I’ve actually had a (male) general practitioner tell me I would feel better if I put more effort into my appearance. My mother, while seeing a (male) lawyer regarding a motor vehicle accident (she was in a full leg cast at the time), was told โ€œshe was made up so she couldn’t be that badโ€. We can’t win.

But truthfully, that isn’t all of it. It’s not even the visible illness markers, like my cane, or a walker, or my surgical scar (which I am oddly proud of and wish I had the chance to show off more often). These things are interpreted by the general public as signifiers of specific problems, which, while still a bit embarrassing at times, are associated with legitimacy and sympathy, and a sense that it’s not your fault.

The things I find humiliating, and that I get furious about, are the little, silent things about my appearance, that others don’t attribute to my illness. My frizzy hair, the result of autoimmune hair loss and my body’s feeble attempt to slowly regrow the lost hairs. The thin patches in my hair from the same. The ironic extra hair on my extremities caused by my body’s lack of capacity to regulate temperature, and the excessive sweating caused by the same. My frequent inability to deal with this hair because sitting at a salon or bending to shave my legs is physically difficult. My red, blotchy, flaky skin, courtesy of the autoimmune rash and dermatitis that has now spread over my face, chest, back, and upper arms, and which does not consistently respond to anything. The numerous unexplained small bruises I’ve been experiencing since I got sick. The white toes and purple feet and legs of Raynaud’s phenomenon. The two or three kilograms of bloating that can follow consumption of any dairy or grains and make my clothes immediately ill-fitting and awkward. My hunched, limping gait on days when I am stiff and sore but not bad enough for a walking aid. My need for appropriate (and usually un-fancy) footwear to negotiate walking and stairs when I can’t feel my leg.

Then there are the physical indicators courtesy of pain and pain medication that I fear get read as ‘junkie’; shaking, sweating, a face full of pimples, scratching at my ever-itchy nose, and dilated pupils, accompanied by rushed speech and trouble concentrating.

Pain and sickness are ugly on me. I hate that people who don’t know I’m sick might interpret these things as laziness, or a lack of awareness. I hate that it takes me twice as long to look half as decent. I hate the expensive and often ineffectual hunt for beauty products I can use without disrupting the ever-so-delicate ecosystem of my body, and that the products I do find often don’t work as well. I hate that this illness is stealing what should be my ‘pretty years’, when I’m at a good weight for me, and I’ve grown out of youthful awkwardness, and society still wants to look at me. I hate that the social phobia I conquered as a teenager is re-emerging, based on all these fears and insecurities. I hate that it’s vain and self-absorbed to talk about these things, even in the midst of a society that teaches women that their value is based on their appearance.

Most days, I can get over these things. I can square my shoulders and head out feeling ugly and self-conscious. But today I can’t, and that’s okay. I’ll try again tomorrow.

Sick Day.

Weary, weary.

I am having one of those bone-crushing, limbs-made-of-concrete, too-tired-to-walk-across-the-bedroom-for-my-meds days. Which is made even more frustrating by the fact that I’m not even in much pain today. This should be a good day, where I catch up on chores and walk to the shops, and instead, it’s 3:50pm and I’m still too tired to shower. Washing my hair seems about as achievable as climbing a mountain right now. I am hungry and home alone and too tired to prepare food.

I realise sharply, on days like this, that although I tend to think of myself as having ‘a stuffed back’, or sometimes as having chronic pain, what I actually have is an illness, of which my back problems are only one symptom. The largest, most inconvenient, and most life-altering symptom, definitely, but taken together my health issues are more complicated than that.

Most of the time my other problems are minor: skin rashes and eczema, hair loss, poor temperature regulation, low blood pressure, dizziness, nausea, vomiting, reflux, diarrhea, constipation, profuse sweating, shortness of breath, heart palpitations, tremors, Reynaud’s phenomenon (purple feet with white toes), occipital neuralgia (migraine-like symptoms from a neck issue), other joint pain. Each of those things in isolation, although irritating and occasionally debilitating, is largely manageable, so I often focus on the minor problem occurring at the given moment and lose sight of the fact that each piece is part of a bigger picture.

For the last week or so, my brain fog has been particularly bad. I’ve kept losing words on the tip of my tongue, forgetting why I entered a room or opened a browser window or the fridge or picked up my phone, started a sentence only to leave it hanging mid-air while I panic, eyes darting, trying to retrieve my thought. Sometimes I can piece it together, sometimes it comes back the next day, sometimes it is gone for good and I worry it was important.

When my lovely, articulate, intelligent brain – the brain I count on to get me through my course and into my profession, to keep me who I am, to make me who my partner and family and friends love – is failing me;

When my body, despite having nothing obviously wrong with it, is overwhelmed by the simplest tasks;

When this happens, on days like today – more than in hospital, hooked up to IVs, with fresh surgical scars and scans and doctor’s appointments – I feel sick.