Sweet & Sour by Peter Corris

Author:Peter Corris [Corris, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0889278482
Published: 2015-12-06T05:00:00+00:00

8Punishment in the Pacific

My first impression was of a place so ramshackle, so poor, so unexpectedly filthy, that I began to understand the theory behind culture shock… The idea that this miserable-looking town could be regarded as a capital city seemed laughable… Why would anyone come here?

Paul Theroux, on his first impressions of Honiara, capital of the Solomon Islands. (The Happy Isles of Oceania p148.)

Looking back, I should have asked Dr Taft to refer me to an endocrinologist: with the John Curtin School of Medical Research one of the major units of the University, there must certainly have been endocrinologists about. I should have located and joined a diabetic support group and kept abreast of developments in the treatment of the disease. I should not have smoked. I should have exercised regularly and kept strictly to my diet. Above all, I should have kept my alcohol consumption to a safe level.

Now, when I do most of these things, it seems remarkable to me that I did none of them back then.

There are no excuses for my neglect, but there are reasons, and one lies in the nature of diabetes itself.

Unlike a physical disability, it is not apparent to others and it is possible to conceal it. Whereas the effects on schizophrenics and epileptics of not taking their medication are obvious, this is not the case with diabetes. Someone neglecting the disease as I did will not necessarily suffer hypoglycaemic attacks, which would cause comment and maybe intervention, but is more likely to have continual high blood sugar readings which have no behavioural consequences.

If I had been less healthy, subject to illnesses or consulting doctors, I might have been advised to pay more attention to my condition. But I was very 'healthy' and only remember seeing a doctor once in my student days in Canberra. Above all, I believe I was ashamed of being diabetic.

The neglect was a way of denying it to myself and others. I showed that I could behave normally – that is, indulge in all the bad habits that undermine the health of Australian men. In my case, however, that undermining was rapid and serious.

My ignorance of diabetes was inexcusable. In 1961, one of my lecturers, who was also a diabetic, gave me a copy of The Diabetic Life. If I had read it I would have learned enough to warn me of the dangers of my lifestyle.

The book travelled with me to Canberra, but remained unopened.

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