I stopped thinking of diabetes as something happening to me
When a routine doctor's visit revealed a type 2 diabetes diagnosis, a 55-year-old Australian woman named Sladjana Cukanic chose inquiry over resignation — and in doing so, joined a quiet but growing story of people reclaiming agency over chronic illness through the most fundamental of human acts: changing what they eat. Within four months of restructuring her diet around protein, vegetables, and healthy fats, her blood glucose had returned to normal range, a result that mirrors findings from a La Trobe University study showing 42 percent of participants in the Defeat Diabetes program achieved remission without medication. Her experience sits at the intersection of personal will and emerging evidence — a reminder that diagnosis need not be destiny, though the work of sustaining that truth is lifelong.
- A woman expecting to discuss a minor infection left her doctor's office carrying a diabetes diagnosis that reframed her entire relationship with food, family, and the future.
- The real disruption wasn't the diagnosis itself — it was the realisation that decades of culturally embedded eating habits, bread at every meal, sweet comfort at 3pm, had quietly accumulated into a metabolic crisis.
- Rather than accept medication as her only path, Sladjana enrolled in a structured low-carbohydrate program and began the painstaking work of dismantling and rebuilding her diet from the ground up.
- Four months in, blood tests confirmed her glucose had normalised; she had lost 10 kilograms and 10 centimetres from her waist — and, perhaps more significantly, had shifted from feeling acted upon by illness to actively managing it.
- Medical experts caution that remission is not a cure — blood glucose can rise again, and for those living with diabetes longer, medication-free remission becomes less likely — but meaningful progress takes many forms beyond a single threshold.
- With 1.3 million Australians diagnosed and an estimated 500,000 more unaware, the stakes of early detection and personalised, sustained intervention extend far beyond any one person's story.
Sladjana Cukanic was 55 when a visit to her GP for a urinary tract infection ended with a type 2 diabetes diagnosis. The news landed heavily — she had spent her life eating the way her Serbian family always had, with bread, rice, potatoes, and sweet snacks woven into daily comfort. Faced with the prospect of medication and insulin as a permanent fixture, she wanted to understand whether her own choices had brought her here, and whether they might help undo it.
A friend pointed her toward the Defeat Diabetes program, a doctor and dietitian-led online course built around a low-carbohydrate approach. Sladjana rebuilt her meals from scratch: eggs, fish, or meat with salad at lunch; steak and vegetables at dinner; a single slice of sourdough as an occasional treat where three pieces had once been the norm. The 3pm chocolate gave way to nuts or cheese. The shift was as psychological as it was physical — carbohydrates weren't just food, they were family rituals and comfort itself. She learned to navigate restaurants with simple modifications, and to use real-time glucose monitoring to see exactly how different foods affected her body.
Four months into the program, her blood glucose had returned to the normal range. She had lost 10 kilograms and 10 centimetres from her waist. More than the numbers, something had shifted in how she understood her own situation: diabetes had moved from something happening to her, to something she could actively manage.
A La Trobe University study of the program found 42 percent of participants achieved remission without glucose-lowering medication, with 78 percent improving their blood glucose overall. GP Dr Justine Birchall notes that remission — the medically preferred term — means glucose has stayed below the diabetes threshold for at least three months without medication. It is not a cure, and regular monitoring remains essential. For those who have lived with diabetes for years, medication-free remission becomes less likely, but reduced medication, improved glucose levels, and lower complication risk all represent real progress.
Type 2 diabetes affects around 1.3 million Australians, with an estimated 500,000 more unaware they have it. Symptoms often arrive late, meaning significant damage can precede diagnosis. Sladjana's advice to the newly diagnosed is direct: educate yourself, monitor your glucose, learn how food affects your body, and ask your doctor questions. Treatment is not one-size-fits-all — diet, exercise, and medication can work in combination — but the path, she has found, is navigable for those willing to walk it.
Sladjana Cukanic walked into her doctor's office in late 2025 expecting to discuss a urinary tract infection. What she left with was far more consequential: a type 2 diabetes diagnosis that would force her to reckon with decades of eating habits.
At 55, the management professional had spent her life eating the way her Serbian family had always eaten—bread at nearly every meal, rice, potatoes, sweet snacks woven into the fabric of daily comfort. When her doctor outlined medication options and discussed her slightly elevated cholesterol, she felt the weight of a life sentence settling in. But something in her resisted the idea of simply accepting tablets and insulin as her permanent future. She wanted to understand what had brought her to this point, and whether her own choices might help undo it.
A friend's recommendation led her to the Defeat Diabetes program, a doctor and dietitian-led online course that teaches a low-carbohydrate approach to managing blood glucose. For Sladjana, this meant dismantling the architecture of her diet. She began building meals around protein, vegetables, and healthy fats instead. Lunch became eggs, fish, or meat with salad. Dinner shifted to steak and vegetables. The bread that had anchored nearly every meal—two pieces at lunch, three at dinner—was replaced by a single slice of sourdough as an occasional treat. At 3pm, when hunger arrived, she reached for nuts or cheese instead of chocolate.
The psychological dimension of this shift proved as challenging as the physical one. Carbohydrates weren't simply food; they were embedded in family rituals, celebrations, comfort itself. Changing what she ate meant changing how she thought about eating. She learned to navigate restaurants by requesting modifications—steak and salad, no chips—understanding that willpower alone wouldn't survive if temptation sat directly in front of her.
What kept her moving forward was data. By monitoring her glucose levels, Sladjana could see in real time how different foods affected her body. Theory became tangible. Four months into the program, follow-up blood tests showed her glucose had returned to the normal range. She had lost 10 kilograms and 10 centimetres from her waist. More than the numbers, she felt a shift in her own agency: "I stopped thinking of diabetes as something that was just happening to me. I started seeing it as something I could actively manage."
Seven months into the program, waiting to reach the 12-month mark to confirm sustained remission, Sladjana carries a clarity that wasn't available to her before diagnosis. A La Trobe University study of the Defeat Diabetes program found that 42 percent of participants achieved remission without glucose-lowering medication, while 78 percent improved their blood glucose levels overall. Participants lost an average of 5 kilograms.
Dr Justine Birchall, a GP who has referred patients to the program, emphasizes that remission—the medically preferred term over "reversal"—means blood glucose has stayed below the diabetes threshold for at least three months without medication. It is not a cure. Blood glucose can rise again, and regular monitoring remains essential. For people who have lived with diabetes for years, remission without medication becomes less likely. But the goal need not be remission alone. Improvement in blood glucose levels, reduction in medication, and lowered risk of complications all represent meaningful progress.
Type 2 diabetes affects around 1.3 million Australians, with an estimated 500,000 more unaware they have it. It develops when the body becomes resistant to insulin, and over time the pancreas cannot keep pace with demand. Persistently high blood glucose damages large blood vessels—increasing stroke and heart attack risk—and tiny vessels in the eyes, kidneys, and nerves, leading to blindness, kidney failure, and neuropathy. Early detection matters because symptoms often arrive late, if at all. By the time someone notices they're waking to urinate at night, or developing skin infections, significant damage may already be underway.
Sladjana's advice to the newly diagnosed is unadorned: educate yourself, monitor your glucose, learn how foods affect your body, speak to your doctor, and ask questions. Treatment will look different for everyone. Some people shift their diet dramatically and quickly; others adjust carbohydrate types and amounts gradually. Medication, exercise, and nutrition can work together. A 10-minute walk, sit-to-stands from a chair, or light weights all draw glucose from the blood and limit insulin spikes. The path forward is not one-size-fits-all, but it is navigable—if you choose to navigate it.
Citas Notables
I didn't want my first response to be, 'Oh, that's it. I'm a diabetic forever and will just take tablets and insulin for the rest of my life.' I wanted to understand the cause and see if there was anything I could change.— Sladjana Cukanic
Remission means a person's HbA1c has stayed below the diabetes threshold for at least three months without glucose-lowering medication. It doesn't mean the condition has been cured, and blood glucose can rise again.— Dr Justine Birchall
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
What made you decide to push back against medication rather than just accept it?
I think it was fear, honestly. The idea that this was permanent, that I'd be dependent on drugs for the rest of my life—it felt like giving up before I'd even tried. I wanted to know if I'd done this to myself through my choices, and if so, whether I could undo it.
And the diet change itself—was it the hardest part, or was it something else?
The diet was hard, but the mindset was harder. Bread wasn't just food to me. It was family, it was comfort, it was how we celebrated. Changing what I ate meant changing my relationship to all of that. You can't just swap ingredients; you have to swap how you think.
When you saw your glucose numbers come back normal, what did that feel like?
Disbelief, mostly. And relief. I'd been following the program on faith for four months, and suddenly there was proof that it had worked. But also pride—I'd done this myself, not a pill, not a doctor. Me.
Do you think about the diabetes differently now?
Completely. Before, it felt like something happening to me. Now it feels like something I'm managing. I know it could come back if I stop paying attention, but that's almost better than thinking it's inevitable.
What would you tell someone who just got diagnosed?
Don't panic, but don't ignore it either. Ask questions. Find out what your body actually needs, not what you think it needs. And understand that this isn't about willpower or punishment—it's about learning how to feed yourself in a way that works.