I turned up early for my endocrinologist appointment today at the Chronic Diabetes Clinic at St Vincent’s Hospital, Darlinghurst.
Being early, and because it was a lovely day, I spent some time waiting in the garden adjacent.
It brought back some intense memories. I spent three and a half, nearly four months in the hospital and rehabilitation ward back in 2023, and sitting in that garden gave me a proper flashback. I remember looking at the path leading down back then and thinking it was like scaling Mount Everest because I barely had the energy to push my wheelchair, after my right leg amputation. Today? Piece of cake.
I found a nice sunny spot, sat down, and just tried to take it all in—looking at the nature, the statues, enjoying the peace.
And then, boom. Right on cue, I ruined it.
I couldn’t just sit there. Even though I was meant to be relaxing before my appointment, I had this absolute compulsion to pull out my phone and check my work emails. I actually got stressed reading them, and I sat there thinking, Why am I doing this? Why can’t I just live in the damn moment?
It made me a bit sad, honestly. Look around any street, bus, or tram these days and everyone’s got their head glued to a screen. We’re all carrying this low-key anxiety in our pockets.
I caught myself doing it, though, and decided enough was enough. I put the phone down, stopped worrying about work, and tried to actually soak in the peace—even with the traffic rumbling in the background.
After that, I went on to my appointment, and the news was unreal. It’s been a little over three years since I landed in the hospital with a massive blood sugar level of 72 or 73, and sepsis that basically shut my organs down and made my pancreas stop making insulin. But the specialist gave me the (almost) all-clear—strictly speaking, I don’t even have diabetes anymore.
At the previous appointment six months ago, and again today, my long-term blood sugar level is down to 4.6, which is well and truly in the healthy range. All those changes I’ve made over the last couple of years—cutting out beer, swapping to red wine, cutting back on the mountain of bread I used to eat, and getting more active—are actually paying off. I’m wrapped with it. The endocrinologist said to me, “I think one more appointment, and that will be it for us”.
Getting your health back is one thing, but trying to actually switch your brain off and be present? That’s a whole different battle.
