Today is my diabetic anniversary. It’s been three years exactly since I was told to go to the outpatients department in Frimley Park Hospital the Saturday morning after going to my GP to have bloods taken. I will never forget that day, it was a whirlwind of emotions and of unsettling contrasts. Crushing boredom as I lay on a hospital bed getting regularly tested, having insulin administered and being told to go and piss in a pot but all underlined with a mounting feeling of dread and apprehension.
Am I going to be ok? What does this mean for me? What is the rest of my life going to be like? Why do they keep testing me? Am I getting better or worse?
Me