And so it begins...

I've just come back from a long-awaited appointment at the Bart's and Royal London Hospital, having been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes.
It's no real shock. I've suspected for a couple of weeks I had diabetes or Syndrome X: unquenchable thirst, frequent urination, feeling slightly dizzy. My recent 'flu made provided a temporary alternative explanation. But deep down I knew.

Back up a moment...

Why was I at the Bart's and Royal London anyway? After many years of obesity, with the usual cycle of trying this diet or that diet, various medical investigations, failed attempts at making lifestyle changes, everyone and their dog's opinions on what I needed to eat or how I needed to exercise etc etc, I decided to get myself referred to a proper Obesity clinic, and get this thing sorted once and for all.
Well, that was in June 2008. The first appointment arrived for mid-July, but was cancelled by the hospital the day before I was due to go. The appointment today was the first available opening since then.

The GP's regular blood tests have never show any sign of diabetes, so the GP was quite relaxed about the appointment. He was happy I was going of course, but he was not worried.

But two weeks before the appointment was due, the thirst and the seemingly endless pee-ing kicked in. So yeah, I was kind of expecting this.

The consultant at the clinic went to great lengths to explain to me the importance and urgency of taking the management of my diabetes seriously. I think she thought I was having trouble accepting I had diabetes. Maybe it was because I hadn't burst into tears or wasn't howling or something.

As far as I am concerned diabetes is just a label for a condition. I am not scared of either the label or the condition. I simply wanted to know what were the practical things I needed to do to manage, control and if possible reduce the effect it was going to have on my life.

But my time was up, and I'll have to get that information from my GP's Diabetic clinic - an appointment I need to make ASAP.

The consultant's closing remarks were both chilling and encouraging: This is your wake-up call. If you commit to doing something about your weight and health, we've caught this early enough that there should not be any further complications. If you don't, this will kill you.

Seems like I've made a step forwards in dealing with my obesity.
Not on the path I thought I was going to follow, but a step forwards never-the-less.

On the taxi ride back from the hospital, I think about whether I have really accepted that I have diabetes, or whether I am in shock / denial. I don't think I am.
I have diabetes. It's a condition that will kill me if I don't manage it. Ergo, I will manage it. It's no longer a question of will-power or anything else. My attitide to my personal health has already changed - my health is no longer something that rests at the bottom of the pile of all the things that I need to do. It's now at the top, and will only be pushed down temporarily by my family's immediate health concerns, if they ever arise.

But that does raise a question - can my family accept the change in priorities, and support me with the lifestyle changes I will be making?

It seems, at the end of the day, that is the biggest concern I have.