OPINION: Northern Advocate reporter Brodie Stone has suffered from eczema her whole life. But it’s now morphed into something different that’s not widely recognised. She tells her story.
On July 30 of this year, my dermatologist validated months of pain and suffering.
Topical Steroid Withdrawal was real - and I had it.
I had sat 10 minutes earlier with my hands anxiously clasped together, feet fidgeting and skin prickling while my partner and I waited for an appointment I’d been referred for last year.
My inner monologue was running over what to say, wondering whether I should bring it up or wait to see what they suggest.
Over time the flares would get worse, and I’d come back to the doctor and complain the cream wasn’t working.
It was probably my eczema suffering from a new trigger but they’d just increase the steroid potency.
A bandaid approach if you will.
I didn’t like using steroids and even then I could feel my reliance on them was starting to build. I felt like a drug addict - but I needed the itch to stop.
I saw a shift last year when small patches that didn’t look or feel like eczema appeared in previously unaffected places.
The flare would go away – but a week later it would return - this time far worse.
Showers - even cold ones - felt like acid.
I suffered from what has been characterised by some as “red sleeve syndrome” where from wrist to elbow my arms were bright red and puffy.
My knees would get so inflamed that it hurt to walk, and my fluid retention was so bad that my face and body looked as though they had been pumped up like a balloon.
My skin was so delicate that the slightest scratch would tear it open, resulting in two weeks of being unable to straighten out my legs or arms for fear of ripping my skin open.
I referred to my doctors countless times and even went to the Emergency Department twice - upset, confused, and sore.
I would wake in a patch of dry skin four times a night, brush out the bed and then wrap up in a tight ball to stop myself from itching.
I spent a month off work, couch-bound, wrapped up in blankets, shivering and weak thanks to my adrenals being completely stuffed from years of steroid use.
I went through multiple changes of clothes a day and had to change the bedding every two days not because of sweat, but the constant weeping and flaking.
I barely left the house and mentally I was the lowest I’d ever been.
To this day I’m still experiencing flares but after having my condition confirmed by a dermatologist I’ve chosen to go on immunosuppressants.