I suppose my skin story started when I was six months old when my mum noticed a tiny rash on my right wrist. Like any other parent would do, she took me to the doctor where I was very swiftly given the diagnosis that I had eczema, a condition as illusive and confusing as the treatment of it. I was prescribed hydrocortisone, a mild topical steroid cream, and soon that little patch blossomed and grew into something larger. Thanks to a mother who was naturally very cautious when it came to using any drugs, she applied them very sparingly and even though I did have eczema back then, it was never serious enough to impact my life – but I do believe that initial use of topical steroids when I was a baby turned the condition from a tiny patch into something much bigger. From about the age of seven my eczema wasn’t a problem, until I went to secondary school. I am not going to go into that period of my life, but I will say that it was a very bad time for me; it shaped me, changed me from a happy child into a teenager who didn’t like herself very much, and those changes showed in my skin with eczema rearing its ugly head. Now, when I look back, I would tell my young, teenage self that my eczema was probably caused by stress, but at the time, all I seemed to be told was that eczema was incurable and I had to find a way of ‘managing’ my condition which meant using emollients, moisturisers, steroids, immunosuppressants, bath preparations and lotions instead of looking for a reason why my eczema was coming up in the first place.
Apart from a nurse I spoke to in my teenage years called Jeanine who will forever be the best person I have talked to about my skin, I’ve been treated to a plethora of simply delightful doctors and dermatologists. Notable mentions go to the antiquated doctor (for some reason I remember he had a rather spectacular dent in his head) who looked directly at me, pointed his (in)experienced finger in my direction and told me, as if he was offering me words of profound wisdom, ‘don’t scratch’; or the doctors who would get their massive encyclopaedia of drugs and ailments out of a drawer to look for an appropriate cream, as if one size fits all. And last but not least, lest we forget, those who would be almost insistent upon me using steroids, immunosuppressants and the like before again reminding me that there is no cure for eczema.
I was fed this way of thinking for a very long time, and I believed it because you are conditioned to trust everything doctors tell you. I feel I need to say again that I am not blaming doctors and have immense respect for their profession, but in my lifetime, I have been treated by enough of them to feel justified to question the way in which eczema is treated by the medical community as a whole. You could tell me I’m wrong, but this is based on my experience and what I as an individual believe after having to go through the system for well over twenty years.
As a teenager my eczema was bad and at the time the only real treatments available to me were steroids, thick emollients, and all manner of fun stuff like that. It was around this time that I was referred to the hospital and started seeing dermatologists. I had skin tests which told me I was allergic to things that didn’t make sense, and I remember a period where my skin was constantly infected and I had to keep taking antibiotics. I was seen by dermatologists at the hospital who would offer the same old treatments, but it wasn’t until I was seen by a new dermatologist that things really went downhill. He was insistent I use steroids and would get angry if my skin hadn’t improved. He was a big fan of Protopic, which at the time was being branded as a miracle cure, and his behaviour was so bad that it got to the point where my mum had to say to him that I was being bullied at school and didn’t need to be bullied by a doctor as well. He did apologise for that, but things didn’t change.
What happened next, I suspect, was the beginning of my addiction to steroids and the birth of Topical Steroid Addiction: I was prescribed (and ended up taking) a course of oral steroids which I am pretty certain was Prednisone. I was about fourteen at the time and as my poor immune system must have been pretty weak from all the drugs and antibiotics I had used, I really didn’t stand a chance. Of course, we’ll never know now what caused the condition to manifest and why – and I’m not here to name the doctors and dermatologists I’ve seen over the years as I think that is not going to help anyone.
Even as a teenager I knew steroids were bad and that if I continued to use the stronger creams I was prescribed I would only be asking for trouble, but at this point my skin was too bad not to use them so I tried to make the best of my situation and over time, gradually weaned myself down from Betnovate to Eumovate. After a while, I realised that for some reason, if I only put a bit of steroid cream on my hands and on a patch under my chin, it would control my whole body – I never touched the stuff as I hated the tingling sensation on my fingertips, so I would squeeze a pea-sized amount onto the back of my hand and use the back of both hands to rub it in. I would then swipe one of my steroid-covered hands over a small area under my chin. Even though I used Eumovate twice a day for years, it still felt like a better alternative to using something stronger. A few years before I began withdrawal, I was able to wean myself down to hydrocortisone 1%, applying it to the same areas. I thought maybe if I did it gradually, I might stand a chance of not having such a bad reaction when I stopped using them completely … how wrong I was. This is why I don’t believe in tapering.
I tried many times over the years to stop using steroids, each time hoping that perhaps my eczema would get better, but straight away, I’d get this awful reaction that I always assumed was my eczema coming back with a vengeance. I’d then book an appointment to see a doctor, but all they’d tell me was to use a stronger topical steroid or Protopic then throw in a new emollient for me to try. Even though I hated Protopic every time I used it, I was desperate to come off topical steroids, but it didn’t take long for me to go back to them as I detested the side effects of Protopic, which for me included a painful burning each time I got in the shower or bath, a worrying increase in the amount of freckles I had even though I kept well out of the sun (I had to go to the hospital to get photos taken as there were so many), my face would flush red and the smell made me feel nauseous. Now, Protopic has been given a ‘Black Box’ warning because of its possible links to cancer.
Every time I went back to topical steroids, it was like reigniting a wonderfully familiar but toxic relationship – I knew it wasn’t good for me, but my skin craved it. I had almost resigned myself to the fact that this was my life now and that steroid creams and immunosuppressants were always going to be a part of it. Over the years, along with other symptoms, I noticed my skin thinning badly, but I felt trapped – without these creams, my ‘eczema’ was only getting worse.
It wasn’t until the summer of 2012 (a year before I started Topical Steroid Withdrawal) that things really started to change. Back when I had normal eczema and my skin wasn’t addicted to steroids, my skin LOVED the sun, but now when it got hot, I would break out in hives and very strange rashes. As the UK never stays very hot for more than a few days at a time, my skin would calm down quickly, but when I went to Greece in July 2012, I found after a couple of days in the sun that my skin (especially on my legs and thighs) was coming up badly and I ended up spending the rest of the holiday covered up in the shade. I remember a few days before heading back to the UK when my supply of steroid cream was running dangerously low, frantically searching for it in Greek pharmacies, and when I was able to find some (I think it was Eumovate), I got back to my room and for the first time in years, literally slathered my entire body in it, desperate for the hives and rashes to die down. The cream did nothing though and it was only when I got back to the UK that my skin calmed down again.
For a few months, I was able to return to my normal routine of using hydrocortisone twice a day on the backs of my hands and under my chin, but over time, I found it increasingly hard to ignore just how thin my skin was. I wish I had taken photos as, especially on my face and the creases of my arms, you could see blue veins through my skin – it was really quite scary. I wore thick foundation which covered them, but it didn’t stop the fear. But what could I do? I had severe eczema, which I was told was incurable, so had to find a way of ‘managing’ my condition.
In April 2013, I remember I was meant to sing at a friend’s wedding which I was looking forward to, but had to cancel as an audition came up that could have been great for my career (at the time, I was making a rather half-hearted attempt at becoming a singer/actress) which I then had to cancel as the skin around my eyes suddenly swelled up really badly. Whilst all this was happening, I noticed a few rashes coming up on my arms and legs and I put hydrocortisone on the patches of ‘eczema’, but it had absolutely no effect. I went back to the doctors hoping they might have an answer, but all they suggested was to use the topical steroid Betnovate. My mum was also getting increasingly concerned about how thin my skin was. I think it was all coming to a bit of a head really and I remember feeling completely and utterly confused. At this point, I felt like I had two options:
- Use stronger and stronger steroids until one day they would inevitably stop working or …
- … I had no idea what my second option was, but knew I had to do something.
It wasn’t until many weeks later on the evening of Thursday 6th June 2013 that I found an answer that would change my life forever. Earlier in the day, I remember my mum having a serious chat with me about how thin my skin was, but all I could say to her at the time was that I didn’t know what to do as steroids were the only thing keeping my skin under control. Unable to shake off my mum’s concerns though, I knew the time had finally come to sort out my skin once and for all so on a whim, that night, I typed into Google something along the lines of ‘addicted to topical steroids’ and instantly, I was given the answer I had waited over ten years to find – I didn’t have eczema any more, but something called Topical Steroid Addiction. It was a total lightbulb moment, and I knew instantly that I would never use steroids again. That same evening, I started Topical Steroid Withdrawal and haven’t looked back since. That was nearly five years ago now … and what a five years it has been.
I think what saved me in a way was going into withdrawal blindly as I had no idea what was going to happen, but if I could sum it all up in one sentence, it would be to say that TSW was the best decision I have ever made for myself and my skin.
This blog documents exactly what I went through during TSW – the good, the bad and the very, very ugly. This is not written by a medical professional with any kind of degree, but a woman who went through something life-changing. I am sharing my story in the hope that it can help others, but whatever I say, the decision of whether TSW is right for you must be yours and yours alone.
I am wishing you the best of luck on your journey,
Cara xxx