I Had Accepted That I Would Live Like This. I Was Wrong.

My name doesn’t matter. What matters is that you probably know exactly what I was feeling.

I’m 63 years old. I worked 34 years as a logistics manager — on my feet, in warehouses, supervising operations, solving problems. I was the kind of man who arrived early and left last. Who never missed a day of work because of pain. Who wore his physical toughness as part of who he was.

My type 2 diabetes diagnosis came at 52. I accepted it. Changed my diet, took the metformin, did the quarterly tests. Did everything right.

But neuropathy didn’t ask whether I was doing everything right.

It started as tingling in my toes. I figured it was circulation. Then came the burning — that feeling like someone had placed hot coals inside my feet while I was sleeping. At 2am, at 3am, at 4am — I’d wake up, lie there staring at the ceiling, waiting for it to pass. Sometimes it passed in twenty minutes. Sometimes I was still awake when the sun came up.

I went to the neurologist. Left with a gabapentin prescription. It helped a little at first — but left my head in a strange place, slow, like I was always one step behind the world. They increased the dose. The head fog got worse. The pain came back anyway.

Then came the falls. Small ones at first — catching a step wrong, not feeling the ground right, needing to hold the railing to come downstairs. My wife started looking at me differently. Not with pity. With worry. And I pretended not to notice.

I went to my GP. He looked me in the eye and said: “With established diabetic neuropathy, the goal is to manage symptoms. There is no reversal.” I heard that, nodded like it made sense, and went to my car.

I sat there for about ten minutes without starting the engine.

I was 61 years old and a doctor had just told me to learn to live with pain for the rest of my life.

One night of research — it was around 3am, obviously — I found NeuroSalt and the multi-pathway botanical approach to nerve support. What was described was different from everything I’d tried before. Not masking the pain. Supporting the nervous system from the inside out. I decided to try it. And what happened in the weeks that followed changed what I thought was possible.