26/11/2010 by IanBankfoot.

Although I’m now a bit of an “oldie”, as a family we’ve always taken collective responsibility for chores, etc.  My wife and I always had to work to bring up our family and the children were expected to do their bit too.In the 70s & 80s my wife worked long shifts in a factory; sometimes 7 days a week if the overtime was available.  By that time, I was working in an office and doing a pretty routine 9-5 job, so it made practical sense that I did the cooking/washing up etc.  I never minded doing any of this, but did become frustrated at points when it affected the skin on my hands. I guess now that the harsh detergents in washing up liquids and cleaning products aggravated the dermatitis.I’m still doing “my bit” in our retirement, but about 5-6 years ago, we treated ourselves to a dishwasher …. I love it and better still, my skin loves it - even though I’m a bit OCD about the way the dishwasher is stacked.I’m so glad that products like dishwashers are now relatively “affordable” and hope that because they are, other people won’t have to suffer in the same way I did all those years ago.Ian

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25/07/2010 by IanBankfoot.

My name’s Ian and I live in central Scotland. My daughter thought it would be a good idea to get involved in this blog; who am I to disagree - her wish is my command! Anyway, my first experience of contact dermatitis arrived in my early twenties - I’m now 74, so bear in mind that things were very different then; after all I’m harking back 50 years.

I worked in a grocer shop. In those days we had “whole” cheeses, covered in wax and fat to preserve it; we also worked with “blocks” of butter and bacon and ham was cut from the bone. As much as I actually enjoyed my job, it was here that the dermatitis on my hands and forearms became out of control largely due to contact with the waxes and fats associated with it. Of course, it didn’t help that we were constantly washing using very hot water and soap.

I was off work constantly when my hands became bad; they were red raw, sore, weeping and bleeding. It eventually got to the stage where at my wits end, I quit. Other people, I’m told, would describe me as “committed” - committed to my wife, committed to my family, committed to my own principals and beliefs. But when I quit that job, my then wife of just under 2 years was just one month away from giving birth to our first child, a son. I just couldn’t take any more. I couldn’t deal, not just with the pain and indescribable discomfort, but with the frustration of knowing that the only thing which had any effect on the condition was by avoiding the triggers and the triggers were in that grocer’s shop! When I had periods off work the worst of it cleared up; I went back to work and immediately it flared up.

Fortunately I got another job very quickly; as a Labourer for a Government Department. The dermatitis, although it improved beyond measure, didn’t go away completely, but I’ll save that for another time.

I’d be interested to hear about the lengths that other people have been driven to through their experience of eczema.

Cheerio for now. Ian

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