Say Cheese!

I've just returned from my second trip to Paris.

It differed in many ways from my last time. First time I went was in December and it was cool and damp. This time I went in August and it was scorching hot and humid. I stayed in a cute, albeit, slightly claustrophobic flat the first time. This time, I stayed in a bright, airy and busy youth hostel. More importantly though, this time I wasn't sick.

I was diagnosed with Crohn's the day before I took the train to Paris in December 2013, and was in the midst of a full-blown flare. I started a high dose of Prednisolone the day before and was so weak I could hardly carry my rucksack. I also could hardly eat anything. All of my meals were cooked on the two burner hob in that little flat despite staying on a street with a busy nightlife and loads of restaurants. Alcohol was totally out and I couldn't get any dairy down. When I came home, I told everyone that my new definition of hell was not being able to eat cheese in Paris.

So this time around, I needed to make up for last time! I ate dairy at every meal, and relished eating emmental on baguettes in front of Notre Dame and near Sacre Couer. I ate crêpes in Parc des Tuileries and ice cream walking through Montmartre. And I ate cheese on several types of Flammekueches, including the dessert one. Oh cheese, how I love you!

Of course, what did I not get a chance to buy and bring home from this trip to Paris? That's right, cheese.

Oh well, at least one of the great things about living in the UK is easy and cheap access to continental cheeses. Off to the supermarket I go!

The Silly Season

August is often known as the silly season. Everyone is on holiday, news editors struggle to find news to report, children are already bored of being away from school, parents are tearing their hair out and about a million artists descend on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh to throw away trees give out leaflets promoting their shows.

I'm off to Edinburgh for the festivities, which will mostly involved sitting in pubs on the Free Fridge to heckle the rubbish see if anyone is any good. And this is the first time I am travelling with Humira.

Despite the amount of travelling I've done since being on it (which is a lot, I've been making up for lost time from when I was sick), I've generally managed to work around my scheduled fortnightly injections. There are two reasons for this. The first is how awful the stuff makes me feel. Really, do you want to lose a day of your holiday to feeling like poo? The other is trying to keep the Humira at fridge temperature while travelling and when you get there. As I camp a lot, you can see the potential problem here.

I'm opting to travel with it this time because I found some ridiculously cheap train tickets to Edinburgh. Anyone in the UK knows that a cheap train ticket from England to Edinburgh is so rare that you don't pass it up, especially during the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. In recent years, it has become cheaper to fly between my city and Edinburgh, which is a bit ridiculous when you think of the distances involved by Canadian standards.

I'm staying with friends, so I have a fridge while I'm there, and a great selection of nerdy movies to chose from if I don't feel well enough to go out post jab. Those two things are sorted. The problem is keeping Humira cold on a 5 hour train journey.

So, I rang the company the delivers my drugs and I was told to ring the pharmaceutical company as I apparently am entitled to a free 'Humira travel kit'. Free sure as hell beats the only travel packs I found online, which start at €40 and go up from there. So the vaguely American sounding woman who answered said they would ship one out to me ASAP. Two days later, a UPS van pulled up just as I was leaving for work with a big box. Let's open it -

The box comes with a ridiculous amount of excess packaging.

It also comes with handy instructions. Granted, I probably could have figured out myself that the cool packs go in the freezer. Note to Abbvie Pharmaceuticals, most European fridge freezers have the freezer unit on the bottom, not the top.

Take the packaging out and -

PINK??!! Frickin' PINK???!!! What am I, 6 years old??!!! Okay granted, I have a pretty big inner six year old, but she never ever liked pink!!!! Seriously, did that woman hear a female voice and think 'Oooo, I'll bet she'll live the pink one!!' Uh no, honey, not this darkling.

And what's with the carry strap?! Do they honestly think I'm going to walk around with this thing over my shoulder? Oh right, you want me to show off your company logo as pharmaceutical companies can't advertise in the usual way. And besides, that strap is bloody pink!

So let's look inside - 

It has one big compartment wide two side packs for -

Ice packs. Which are in English and Chinese. I'm curious to know if that actually says 'ice packs' in Mandarin, or something else.

The instructions say that the Humira auto injectors should be kept in their original box to 'protect from light'. 

Apparently being zipped up in a black lined insulated bag isn't enough to protect it. Maybe the pink is too bright.

Anyone notice what's missing from this kit?

A safe place to dispose of a used needle.

Or more sensibly, one of these -

A travel size sharps container that perfectly one auto injector. If you ever need one, I got this from St. John's Ambulance, but I suspect someone on Amazon stocks them cheaper.

So for an auto injector the size of a chunky marker, I have a lunchbox size cool bag. In pink. At least I didn't have to pay for it.