Tag Archives: not a diet

Blue Funking Raw Food

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Shit happens.  Actually, quite a lot of shit happens.

I last posted a year ago.  At that time, I was in reflective mood.  The truth is, I had reached a point in my life where everything had changed.  It was a year since my Mum had died and 4 months since my Dad had followed her.  I was 3 months into my 3rd job in 2 years.  I had been an arthritic for 30 years and I was beginning to allow this thought to define my life.  I was looking back and worrying about what lay ahead.

Rewind 18 months and I wasn’t in a great place.  The effects of stress were beginning to impact every aspect of my life.  My health took a prolonged downward turn and my arthritis flared beautifully, which just fuelled my stress.  I even found that music wasn’t lifting my spirits.

Music has played a big part in my life since I was a teenager.  Not just listening, but playing, writing and recording.  I’ve played in bands since I was 15 and I’ve been very lucky to end up in some great bands with great people. I have lovely gear – just check out my see-thru drum kit!img_2021

But, I wasn’t happy playing with my mates.  Setting up for a gig left me stressed and angry.  Little issues (there are always issues when setting up) got right up my arse.  By the time we were going on stage, I would be wound up and, sometimes, I felt like walking out and giving up.  Not like me at all.

When my Mum died after a long decline into dementia, there was some relief.  She hadn’t known any of the family for a long time and I was happy for her that she had been released from her lonely world.

My Dad, my hero, was her carer even though he was well into his 80s.  He gave my Mum the dignity of dying at home with her family around her –  a promise he made when she was more herself.  A few months later and, instead of his life being more relaxed and less stressful, my Dad discovered that he was dying from a massive tumour in his colon.  My brother, sister and I became his carers and we took shifts staying at the family home to look after him.

My stress turned into depression.  The blue funk.

We buried my Dad in the same week that I had the interview for my current job.  As well as interview prep, I was in the middle of preparing a eulogy and rehearsing a song – yes, I played the ukulele and sang at my Dad’s funeral.  After, hopefully, making everyone laugh with a song taking the piss a little (I think my Dad would’ve liked it) I stood and delivered the eulogy in the church where he had been an Elder.  The day after the funeral, I got the job.  That whole week is a blur.

kickballsMy doctor took an aggressive approach.  I don’t mean he slapped me around and kicked me in the bollocks, which may have helped, he prescribed a drug regime to rid me of the self-destructive and negative thoughts.

It worked to a point.  But recently I feel like I’ve been going round and round in a circle with no corner to turn to get out.

Trapped.  Stuck.  Eating the wrong food and drinking too much.  All of the things opposite to the paleo lifestyle that gave me such amazing results 5 years ago.  My health was shit, my head was full of shit, I was a complete shit and I felt powerless.  I had to do something different to make the change that I needed to help me move forward.

Luckily, I have a partner who loves me and cares about me.  My wife Anthea knows.  She knows how I feel, what makes me tick and watching me struggle hasn’t been easy for her AND she has had to pick up my slack when she’s busy enough herself.  It’s been shit.  But, she offered me a way out.

I was 50 in June.  Anthea’s gift to me was for me to piss off out of the house for a week.  “Just go away!” she said.  No seriously, she bought me a week at a health retreat in Spain.  I must admit, I didn’t immediately take to the idea but the more I thought about it, the more I got excited about going.

I went.

I’m just back from an amazing week at Laughter Cleanse run by two wonderful people, Jo and Claire.  I was one of four guests.  I wanted the chance to reboot, to get my head in order and to break out of my circle.  So, what happened……..?

Cleansing and Detox – we had foimg_2106ur and a half days of fresh vegetable and fruit juice, 5 times a day with some dietary supplements thrown in.  Nothing solid to eat.  Now, you’ll be thinking that I’d be bloody starving but not at all.

Then there were the enemas.  Oh yes!  The most exciting bit.  One each day during the detox period and I felt the need to keep Anthea up to date as I went along.  In fact, on the Thursday (the 4th day) I was so dissatisfied with the results of my enema that I did another one.  Ah, that’s better.

I recommend everyone do this.  You really don’t know just how full of shit you all are!  The volume and colour of the stuff that’s probably been languishing in my colon for years was pretty impressive.  I took photos but I won’t share.

A big part of the week for me was our morning routine:

  1. 10 minutes of laughter – everyone lying on the floor pissing themselves laughing, releasing enough endorphins for the whole day
  2. Joy Fit – getting the lymph flowing
  3. 45 minutes of yoga, which I just loved, loved, loved
  4. 15 minutes of meditation – awesome!

img_2103Then there was the location.  How can you NOT feel good being in a place like this?

Loads of time and space to do your own thing, chill, snooze, read, chat, listen to music, have another enema or two, whatever.

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Nutrition – the juices were bloody lovely.  We had either ginger or turmeric shots each morning, followed by delicious vegetable and/or fruit juices freshly made from organic produce.  Awesome!

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We also had this disgusting stuff called Spirulina twice a day – the trick was just to get it down as quickly as possible.  It’s pretty awesome stuff but tastes horrendous.  I won’t go into its many health benefits, just Google it people!

Friday was solid food day.  Raw.  Vegan.  Now, I bet you’re thinking that raw vegan food is bland, tasteless, dry, all nuts, salad, cardboard and hemp washed down with water.  Well, that’s the image I had in my head.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.

We ate glorious pad Thai, amazing Mediterranean olive and walnut bread, banana and ginger ice cream, key lime pie among other things.  All raw, wheat free, dairy free, sugar free and more delicious than you can possibly imagine.

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Why raw?  Well, we still have the bodies of our hunter gatherer ancestors.  Same idea as paleo.  In the last 200 years and especially in the last 50 years, we have moved to processing pretty much all of our food.  We add chemicals to make it last longer, sugar to make it taste nice and bulk it out, E numbered compounds that we have no idea about, MSG, etc.  The list goes on.

Yet we still have the genetic makeup of hunter gatherers.  A few hundred years isn’t enough for evolution to allow our bodies to adapt, that would take a few hundred thousand years if not more.  The bulk of what we put into our bodies is unnatural and toxic to us.  Again, same idea as paleo.

The difference between raw and paleo is cooking – duh, no shit Sherlock!  Cooking kills the enzymes – the life force – of the food.  Now, I’m not turning into a hippy and I’m not about to grow a long beard or anything like that, but it does make sense.  We’re designed and we’ve evolved to live in harmony with nature and our surroundings.  Our bodies are geared up for raw food, using the natural enzymes in it to help us digest and pull nutrition from it.

It all sounds very Avatar but why shouldn’t it be like that?

Raw food (either completely raw or dehydrated) maintains the life of the enzymes.  It made me feel really good.  My body is an amazing thing, as is yours.  It wants to heal itself.  It’s desperate to be given the clean, non toxic fuel to help it do just that.

The Future – So, what was my outcome?  Did I reboot?  Was it the change I needed?

You betcha baby!

Days 1 and 2 were odd.  I was tired.  I retreated to my room and slept a lot.  I needed the privacy to be with myself and reflect.  Day 3 was odd.  I had a sore head all day and a grumbly tummy – not through hunger, I hadn’t given myself long enough on the bog after my enema.  I squirted all day and almost followed through a few times.  Nasty.

On Day 4, I woke up and felt superb.  I literally jumped out of bed (I haven’t felt like that for over 3 years) and when I looked in the mirror, there was a healthy person looking back at me.  My energy was up.  My head felt more clear.  I felt happy – that was unusual!

Day 5 was even better.  I slept so well the night before (again, something that hadn’t happened a lot).  I felt energetic.  Feck, what’s going on!?

Day 6.  More of the same and more.

Day 7 and beyond.  Well, I’m on day 11 today.  I have, with the exception of a couple of meals, maintained a raw diet.  I feel great.  I’ve had a sore and swollen right ankle which has given me a limp for around 3 years.  It’s getting better.  The chronic inflammation in my hands is receding.  My right shoulder is less sore.  I have a little more stamina.  I feel a little stronger.  My head is more clear.

I’m going to continue.  I have to.  I owe it to myself and my family to give this everything.

In my last post I talked about having another 35 years to go.  If I’m lucky and that’s the case, I’ll have been living with rheumatoid arthritis for 80% of my life.  A scary thought?  Maybe.

Maybe I won’t have to.

 

Sweets, Swelling and Selfies

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This post was going to be called “Man Boobs No More”, but I changed my mind at the last minute.  I will, however, come on to my man boobs later.

Er……oops, that could be read a number of ways!  What I mean is, I will refer to the subject of my man boobs a bit later on.

I’ve been feeling a wee bit guilty about not writing.  I do love writing my blog and I was VERY surprised to find that my last post was in May last year.  Last year, 2013!  I would say, in my defence, that life has been awfully busy in the last 8 months or so.

So, what has happened?

Well, first of all I left one band and joined 2 others.  This meant getting down to quite a punishing rehearsal schedule and, in total, I had to learn around 50 new songs and be gig ready pretty quickly.  In the last 8 months, I’ve been in more random rehearsal spaces and done more music stuff than I can shake a stick at.

RehearsalSpaceMontage

Practise

Mad, brilliant fun but completely knackering.

It has also meant a lot of practise on my wee electronic kit at home, which is supposed to be the quietest way to get some practise in.  I still manage to disturb everyone in the house, though!

Then we had our summer family holiday in France, which was awesome.  I’ll get to that in a moment.

Then after months of delays, we were finally granted permission to extend the house.  We appointed a builder and the work started.  This introduced a load more distractions in the 10 weeks that followed.  The build was finished on the 20th of December, so Christmas brought new bedrooms for the kids, BUT, it still isn’t completely furnished or decorated and there is still some internal work to do (which is my job) so I have a few more distractions.

With all this going on, could I have found a couple of hours to write some stuff for my blog?  Yes, of course I could but I kept putting it off.

Then, this week, I received a reminder that my blog was due for renewal.  So I logged on and found a message from a fellow arthritic dated July 2013.  I hadn’t seen it.  Now, I make a point of replying to everyone who gets in touch via the blog, so I felt really bad that I had failed this time – and that it was from so long ago.

Closing her message, Sue wrote, “Please do keep posting.  Your blogs are incredibly helpful and inspiring.”  I suddenly remembered why I started this thing in the first place and felt quite humbled, so thank you Sue for giving me a wake up call.  And thanks also to Jono (my wife’s cousin’s husband) for telling Sue about my blog.

Right.  The last time I blogged I had reached the point of no return and had felt the need to take my medication.  This has happened twice since then and I seem to have settled into taking the drugs every 3 months.  I still haven’t had the courage to sit through one of these ‘mini flare ups’ and see if my joints settle down.  I get a bit scared.

I know that, at some point, I will have to try powering through these tough times but life just gets in the way.  There is always family stuff to do, my job, a rehearsal, a gig, stuff to do around the house and a whole bunch of other stuff that demands attention and action.

Lots of stuff!

And, let’s not lie about it, it’s bloody painful.  I lose all the strength in my limbs, I have no power in my hands, even to the point of struggling with cuff links and not being able to turn down my shirt collar.  I have trouble with stairs and my ankles and feet are sometimes too painful to carry my weight.  Enough really is enough when you have to ask your daughter to help you get dressed.  So, I give in, inject, and within days I’m feeling better.  Whether I would feel better anyway without taking the drugs is something I’m just going to have to think about trying – but I really am a bit of a scaredy-cat.

But, I could be helping myself a bit more.  Since France, I’ve been in and out of eating clean and I have the results to show for it – this is the Sweets and Swelling bit.

I know that eating wheat is bad for me.  I have an immediate reaction to it and it’s not pleasant.  Everyone should read a book called Wheat Belly – everyone!  Anyway, at a very nice restaurant in the tiny French village of St Avit Senieur, I ordered a pudding which was lovely but made with flour.  The kids told me off.  My wife shot me a disapproving look.  I knew what I was doing.  I had a leaky gut for a couple of days after that.  I stay away from wheat.

Processed sugar also has a very bad affect on me and I’m finding more and more that the longer I stay away from processed stuff, the more extreme the reaction when it gets into my diet.  I don’t have much willpower.  My colleagues at work will tell you, if there are ever sweets on our desks and I have one, you can kiss goodbye to the rest because I’ll have the lot.  I fall off the wagon now and then.

SportsMixWhen this happens, I’ll drop into Sainsbury’s or Tesco on the way home and pick up a bag of Sports Mix – they’re my favourite.  Give me 10 minutes and they’ll all be gone.

I’m just a sucker for them.

In the last few days, my wife has been at a networking event for people from her industry.  There were bowls of sweets on the tables and, because her friends and colleagues know we have 3 kids, she kept being given sweets to bring home for them.  We ended up with tons and tons of sweets and they were all like this, just processed sugar on a stick.

SweetsFor me, that’s a red rag to a bull and I ate quite a lot.  The result, crippling, painful swollen fingers and eczema.

Sugar really is nasty stuff.  Here are the results of my lack of willpower.  A beautifully swollen pinky joint and the nastiest eczema breakout I’ve had in ages.  If I stay clean, the condition of my skin is amazing.  If I don’t, this happens.

Finger and Hand

So, that was today, Thursday 6th February.  Give it a few days and my joints and skin will be back to normal.  Sugar really is poison and we should all stay away from it.

So, I’ve covered Sweets and Swelling.  What about Selfies?  Back to France.

Our holiday in France was amazing for so many different reasons.  We had a beautiful villa with a private pool, the weather was superb, the people were lovely, the little bastide towns were gorgeous, the countryside was beautiful and we discovered that the Dordogne is one of the most fabulous parts of the world.

I did what I always do.  Completely in love with the place, I was in a fantasy, talking about buying a farmhouse, selling up and retiring there and I slowed the car at every ‘for sale’ sign we passed.  All nonsense, of course, but great to let one’s imagination wander.

The food was a big surprise.  I found that I had a huge choice.  Ordering in restaurants was easy.  I did make a few poor choices, but I knew what I was doing and anyway, the kids let me know about it so I was shamed mercilessly.  For the most part, I was able to eat like a horse!  When in France……

Anyway, here are some of the things we ate.  Lots of meat, lots of veg, lots of fruit, just what paleo man would eat.

Food1

We ate a lot of food – everyone did.  But, it was all good stuff.  We had a large cooked breakfast every morning, we drank LOADS of the local wine and ate a big lunch and dinner.  The entire holiday was really just hopping from one eatery to another, but, I have never felt so good and I actually came home 2.2 kilos lighter than I was before the holiday.

When does that ever happen?  People who lose weight on holiday normally have a dose of the squits or some other tummy troubles.  I caught myself in the mirror having a shave one morning and I thought to myself, “Blimey, you don’t look too bad”.  Following in my eldest daughter’s footsteps, I reached for my phone a took a selfie.

Selfie1With Twitter and Instagram at her fingertips, Catherine is definitely one of the selfie generation and we’re always trying to give her good advice, trying to keep her safe and generally giving her a hard time about it.  So, here’s me not taking my own advice, with clothes and without.  

selfie2I think I look OK for a 47 year old chronic arthritic who takes little to no exercise.  This is all diet, nothing else.

Which brings me to my man boobs.  3 years ago, I was growing a pair.  Now they’ve gone.  I’ve done nothing except change what I eat.  Aside from a few misguided lapses of willpower, I have kept my diet as clean as I can and I’m now at a steady 73 kilos, just perfect for my height.  My BMI is smack bang in the middle of normal.

3 years ago, my BMI put me in the overweight category.  Not now.  Even better, I know that I can control my arthritis with food.  I know what works and what doesn’t.  I’ve moved on from constantly experimenting – I don’t feel I have to do that any more.  I just have to do better and stay clean.  Maybe I can still be free from the drugs completely.

Maybe.

This Week, I Have Been Mostly Wearing……..

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……..a grumpy face.

I have been particularly grumpy, actually.  Annoyingly, people have noticed and it’s not good when people start pointing this stuff out to you.  Now, I could put this down to my age.  I’m 46, rushing headlong into the long dark tea-time of middle age, but happy-go-lucky with it and not usually a grumpy old bastard!

Well, I have been this week.  My wife, my kids, my workmates have all had to put up with “Scott, the Grump Who Stole The Mood.”

It’s not been a great week.  After feeling quite pleased with myself in my last update, things just didn’t get back to normal.  I was waiting for my hands to recover and they didn’t.  In fact, everything just went a bit mental, sprinted quickly downhill and I really felt like a creaky old arthritic.

It’s very difficult to put into words what being a creaky old arthritic feels like.  The only way I can describe it is like being a really old car, that someone does their best to take care of but it still doesn’t perform quite in the way you expect, it limps along and you never quite know when it’ll break down – and when it does, it always gets going again but it’s just a bit ropy.  Like a bad Top Gear challenge.

Anyway, my creaky old arthriticness left me with shock, upset, disbelief, upset, anger, upset, tears, introspection, upset, swearing – oh, the swearing!  Now, I know what you’re saying.  This is all being a bit melodramatic and one should really get a grip of oneself.

Maybe you’re right.  I was, however, reminded of the dreadful flare up I had a few years ago that started with sore feet (which I ignored).  I put the feet down to lack of sleep, a bit of stress and worry associated with having two little 34 week premature babies in hospital, trying to see as much of them as I could and still do my job (saving my paternity leave for them coming home, see).

Last week, I had sore feet.  Also, my fingers weren’t settling, my right wrist was immobile, washing my hair in the shower was suddenly the most difficult and painful thing to do (not to mention towelling – I would have killed for a man-sized tumble dryer) and my knees were behaving like the unruly 7-year-old girls my tiny babies have turned into.  And my knees – jeez my knees!

Knees.  They’re funny things.  The most awkward of human joints.  Not so much a joint as a very ill-conceived mashing of unmatched bone ends and Forth Road Bridge suspension.  Doomed to failure!

When my arthritis has been bad, I’ve been able to feel the ends of my bones, especially the tops of my tibiae – it’s a particular pain that’s somewhere between an itch and being stuck with a needle.  I suddenly had that pain again and it began to worry me a bit.

Time to take action and I reached for the medication.  I had to.  I honestly felt like I had failed and last Sunday was a rotten day – in my head anyway!  By the end of the day, the drug was kicking in and I was beginning to feel much better.  I’m lucky, Adilamumab works so well that I can go for ages without it and it’ll re-establish within hours.

This doesn’t, however, make me feel better emotionally.  I haven’t been as clean as I could or should have been.  I have given in to temptation in the last few weeks and paid for it.  Maybe, I’ve reached the limit of what I’m able to do without the drugs?

My wife, who is my greatest source of encouragement and support, put it very well.  She’s pretty clever, my missus.  “You’re trying to undo 46 years of habit, Scott,” she said.  “Look at what you’ve achieved?  In the last 14 months you’ve gone from being on weekly injections and not feeling great to maybe taking them once every 6 or 7 weeks and feeling brilliant!”

She’s right and I think I’m probably being hard on myself.  She’s right about the habit thing too.  You know, I LIKE bread, I LOVE naan bread with a curry, I ADORE cakes, I’d KILL for a stodgy pudding with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.  Custard, ice cream, crisps, sweets, loads of beer and Pickled Onion Monster Munch!

I am finding this quite a challenge and it’s a battle with myself and myself only.  Eating Paleo is easy, having the will to put all the other crap aside is the difficult bit.  I’ve always been impetuous, quick out of the blocks to try anything, do daft stuff and I’ve never thought of myself as having much in the way of willpower.  I like that side of my character, though, it’s who I am.  In the last few days, I have been questioning whether I am capable of sticking to what I am trying to do.

Maybe it is melodrama and I should just get a grip, because I know what it’s feels like to feel great and this is important.  This is about being well, feeling great, making the rest of my life good instead of descending into ever more ill health.  I feel great when I eat clean and I have to hang on to that.

Best get on with it then!

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Spectacularly Missing The Point, Twice!

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Oh for the love of goodness!  I just read this article on the BBC News website:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-19785006

In it, James Gallagher, the BBC’s Health and Science Reporter, says that scientists have genetically modified a cow so it produces milk that reduces allergic reactions. Flamin’ Eck!  He goes on to say that the poor thing was born without a tail. Really!  Then, as the beast hadn’t yet became pregnant, they pumped it full of hormones to kick-start milk production. Eeeeh Gads!

At this point, I was disgusted and interested all at once.

Now, I’m no fan of dairy.  I stopped eating/drinking dairy products a year ago.  Since then, I have dabbled and experimented with bringing dairy back into my diet.  If I do have any, it gives me a sore head and I break out in various itchy rashes.  I am now even less of a fan.

Cows make milk for the same reason as humans make milk – to feed their babies.  As a race, we understand that human breast milk is absolutely the best thing for our children and we have Government sponsored and charitable/voluntary organisations to help, encourage and support new Mums in doing the right thing.  Respek!  We do, however, treat new Mum cows with no respect at all.

Calves are taken away from their Mums after about 3 days, they’re fed milk substitutes and are either slaughtered for veal or allowed to develop into adults.  Mum cows are then milked intensively for about 10 months and then inseminated all over again (they have 2 months off to let their udders recover).  Sounds nice, eh?  This is highly unpleasant, especially when the bond between a cow and her calf is very strong and will last until the calf reaches adulthood.  A bit like us, then.

This intensive milking has some nasty side effects too, other than making the poor cow go a bit mad! Lameness, mastitis among other horrible things.  While we treat mastitis in humans, we just kill the cows.  Nice human people!

Right. I’m in danger of ranting, back to the BBC.  They go on to say………..

Cows milk contains beta-lactoglobulin.  Human milk doesn’t.  Beta-lactoblobulin causes an allergic reaction ergo Lactose Intolerance.  Hmmm, doesn’t that tell us something?  The researchers have said, “It’s not surprising that it constitutes a major milk allergen.”

Now, isn’t this just missing the point?  It’s only an allergen because it’s not designed for humans, it’s for cows.  Would we feel just as comfy drinking a hippo’s milk, a domestic cat’s milk, a dog’s milk?  Of course not!  Those animals make milk for their own babies, don’t they and, anyway, that would be disgusting!

We have already genetically modified our bovine friends to produce LOADS AND LOADS of milk satisfying our voracious need for sustenance.  So, we’ve done it once, we can do it again, tail or no tail!  That’s humanity for you – superior, arrogant and doing stuff just because we can and missing the point to boot.

Missing the Point 2.  I’ve had a busy week.  Well, the truth is, I gave myself a busy week!

My band were playing at a wedding on Saturday.  Weddings are hard work.  At a party, club or pub, we’d normally start at about 9/9:30, play for 1hr 15mins, have a break, play for another 1hr 15mins.  At a wedding, start times are typically earlier, clients want certain songs learned and played, bands have to mindful of the demographic and build the set around that.  The reality is, you have to play for longer, need more songs up your sleeve and you need to pay attention to the crowd and change the set list on the fly.

That meant dusting off quite a few songs we haven’t performed in a long time and adding a few more that we hadn’t done at all.  So, we rehearsed a bit more than we would normally in the week leading up to it.  I also made a new riser deck.

What’s a riser?  It’s a wee platform that gets the drums off the floor so I’m at eye level with my muso chums.  It also makes the band look much more professional.  It has nothing at all to do with being a show-off and being seen, you understand.  Nothing!

I have a riser deck already, but it was too big for this gig so I needed one that was small, fitted around a smaller kit and could be set up in a corner.  Now, as my wife pointed out, I didn’t really NEED to build one, especially as the bath panel is still at the top of the stairs and there’s other shit to do in the house.  She’s right, of course!  But it is BRILLIANT being on a riser (thanks Ringo) and I really WANTED one for this gig.  I had from the Monday to the Thursday to make it – pressure was on!

I did myself in.  What with work, cooking, ferrying the kids to various places, 2 band rehearsals and just getting through life, I really didn’t have time to do this.  By Wednesday, I had sore hands, my right elbow was playing up, my knees and feet were sore, getting through a 3 hour gig on Saturday was looking shaky and, worst of all, I had pissed off my wife!  Thoughts of injecting myself with my drugs crossed my mind – and not just for the arthritis!

I reminded myself that I was missing the point of what I’m trying to do.  I want to be drug free and prove that you really are what you eat!  So I didn’t.  By Friday (gig setup day) I was feeling OK.  By Saturday evening, I still had a sore elbow but nothing nearly as bad as Wednesday and I was feeling good.

We played, in total, for 3 hours and 20 minutes on Saturday night.  I have never played for so long – this is Bruce Springsteen territory – or been so bloody knackered!

Did I last the pace?  Absolutely!  AND I had more to spare.

Did I suffer the following day?  Not at all, I felt brand new.  Nothing hurt and I was up early and back at the hotel to tear down the gear.  I have chronic rheumatoid arthritis, I’m thinking this isn’t too shabby.

I have been feeling a bit off colour since, though, but I think it’s just because I’ve not caught up with my sleep.  I still haven’t resorted to injections and I’m determined not to miss the point again!

Nuff said.

Got To Get Off The Meth!

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My wife sent me this link recently.

http://robbwolf.com/2012/04/23/battling-rheumatoid-arthritis-paleo-diet/

A very interesting read from someone who is using paleo to deal with arthritis. Interesting for me as the story of her journey (there you go, I’ve used that word) was similar to mine. I recognised some of the things I’ve been through and I like Robb Wolf – it was his book that started me thinking differently about what I eat. Try it – The Paleo Solution. It has changed my life!

What pissed me off a wee bit was the way she made Methotrexate look really bad, dangerous, toxic, scary and generally so awful that it’ll kill you! This is all a bit of scare mongering, really, and I don’t think it’s all that clever or creative to just copy the information card that comes with the stuff. Have some bloomin’ imagination!

Most people on Methotrexate don’t have any issues at all – like me. Patients are monitored so closely that, if anyone does have a reaction, they’re off it before you can say “cancer inducing Anti-TNF therapy is much worse.”

I’m on both. I am supposed to give myself an injection of 25mg Methotrexate and one of 40mg Adilamumab (Anti-TNF bad stuff) every week. The latter is the drug I really want to stop taking. Why? Anti-TNF drugs are brilliant, they work and Adilamumab really works for me BUT they’re new, they’ve not been around long enough for anyone to really understand the effects of long term use. There have been some reports of melanoma in patients taking Anti-TNF. That’s why. My surgeon, the guy that looks after my dodgy hip, calls it poison and I am inclined to agree with him.

Now, I said earlier that I’m supposed to be taking my drugs once a week. Well, I have lapsed a bit. Since the end of April 2012, I’ve injected four times. Pretty much once every five weeks. The last one was a disaster – I’ll tell you why in a minute!

My diet is working. There is no doubt. It’s been a year since I started. I’ve not always been strict with myself and I have suffered for those times. I’ve lost weight, gained muscle, inflammation is slowly disappearing, I feel strong, I have stamina. I feel much better than I have done in years. I don’t suffer from my annual post winter chest infection and the amount of time I spend away from work due to health problems has fallen sharply.

So, what was the disaster? I had gone for 6 weeks without an injection. Some days my feet were sore so I’d say, “I’ll inject this weekend.” Then my feet would get better and I wouldn’t. Then my fingers would feel bad for a couple of days and I’d say, “I’ll inject this weekend.” Then my fingers would get better and I wouldn’t do it.

My band were playing a gig two weekends ago. It was one of those gigs where we wanted to do well, put on a good show, people may be there who want to book us again. I had sore wrists and my feet were a bit painful (nothing too bad) and I hadn’t been that strict with my diet. Dick!

So, 2 days before the gig I took my injections. Big mistake. I should have just let my body recover naturally as it had done countless times before. What happened was a horrible reaction to the poison (my surgeon would be proud) that I was pumping into myself. I had stomach cramps, cold sweats and only just made it through the gig. I had a day off work on the Monday because I felt so bad.

Oh, the irony! No drugs, feel great! Have drugs, feel like pish! I think my system is so clean that any form of artificial anything gives me an extreme reaction. Now, I’ll probably have to test this out again soon – not looking forward to that but, in the interests of science, “I’ll roll up my sleeve” (Renton, Trainspotting).

So, is my wife right? Do I need to “get off the meth?” Oh yes indeed and, more so, off the Anti-TNF and I’d like to have that done by the end of the year.

This stuff is poison after all.