
Does the drug that ‘fixed’ my diabetes have a dark side?
A while back, I wrote about how dapagliflozin revolutionised my glucose control. Almost overnight, I changed from a morbid and morbidly obese failing diabetic to a nearly new fifty-something with a rejuvenated lust for life. My HbA1c returned to normal levels and my retinopathy disappeared. I was advised to stop taking gliclazide as my glucose control seemed to be perfect, and I didn’t want to experience hypoglycaemia. I even stopped pricking my finger to measure my blood sugar. I felt my diabetes was behind me.
I had also discovered a low-carb diet I could live with: bacon and eggs, kebabs, lamb chops and steaks with mustard, hummus and delicious cheeses, all accompanied by lots of salads in mayonnaise, and non-starchy veggies. Yumm! I lost three stone effortlessly. It became embarrassing how many people remarked on how well I looked, having been a sickly fat blighter for all the time before.
I felt strong enough to take on a big project helping to plan and implement the regeneration of healthcare in my very rural locale. It involved lots of travelling to meet the public and speak frankly to them while thinking on my feet. I attended endless meetings and video conferences where I had to learn the tiresome new lingo of management-speak. All of this was done alongside my day and night job as a resident consultant in intensive care and anaesthesia.
Before even six months were up, I began to feel a bit flakey. My memory and concentration were not good. I was having difficulty keeping up with the meetings. I was prone to emotional lability, most noticeably at home, and, most
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