My Story
Read how my own life as a doctor led me to an unhealthy spiral and how the physician had to heal himself before healing others
My Worst Weight
96 KG
What happened and why?
Me at my worst
Me NOW
Years in medicine taught me to save lives while quietly neglecting my own. Endless night duties blurred into long, relentless hours. Meals became rushed afterthoughts, squeezed between rounds and emergencies. Stress was simply the cost of doing the job—never addressed, always absorbed. Slowly, invisibly, the weight crept on—until I was 20 kg heavier, staring at an HbA1c of 12.1. My blood sugars were running three times higher than normal.
What I did
Then one fine day, something personal became the tipping point—and I decided to take charge of my health. The irony wasn't lost on me: I always had the knowledge. Years of medical training, and I'd never turned that expertise inward. I'd guided countless patients toward better health, yet neglected to apply the same rigor to myself. So I built a plan—not borrowed from internet fads or quick fixes, but medically sound, rooted in everything I'd practiced for others over the years. This time, though, I made a decision that mattered more than the plan itself: I would actually implement it. No more advice I didn't follow. It was time to become my own patient.
How it crept on me
The shock came in layers. First, the physical weakness—simple daily tasks that once felt effortless now left me drained, my muscles no longer cooperating with what my mind expected of them. Then my skin began reacting, wounds lingering far longer than they should have, healing slower with each passing month. Sleep, once a given, became fragmented and shallow, leaving me exhausted before the day even began. But the hardest part wasn't physical—it was who I was becoming. Constant irritation, short patience, a simmering frustration with everyone around me. I didn't recognize this version of myself. Being perpetually unfit had quietly rewritten my temperament, and that realization was harder to face than any lab report.
The transformation was measurable: significant fat loss, replaced by steady muscle gain. Hemoglobin normalized, blood sugars stabilized, HbA1c corrected. But the real victory wasn't the number on the scale—it was reclaiming ability. Daily tasks I'd struggled through with exhaustion and irritation for 15-20 years suddenly felt effortless again. I wasn't just appropriately weighted; I was appropriately alive. And now I could even go for that outdoor trek with friend groups which was unthinkable earlier.