Yes, I'm Taking a Weight Loss Drug

... and it became FDA-approved yesterday. Woo-hoo!

I’m an open book. But for the past couple months, I’ve been holding something close to the vest. It wasn’t because I wanted to be secretive. It’s because I didn’t want to jinx it. But now, I’m ready to open up like a new can of tennis balls. Whoosh.

Hello, mounjaro.

On August 30th this year, I went in for a check-up at my Ob/Gyn’s. I’d neglected to visit her — and all my doctors — in the previous two years. (I know.) Mind you, I’m the first person to tell someone else to see a doctor. I was just too busy. There was too much going on. There was no time!

Oh, please. I made an hour a day to grow my Instagram account. I couldn’t pop in for a quick pap? But anyway. There I finally was.

And I was heavy. That’s what my late grandmother would call it when I’d “put on weight.” Gagy would give me one of her warm, enveloping hugs, her chunky necklace hitting my collarbone, the smell of Trident gum emanating from her leather pocketbook, then she’d pull back, take my face in both of her hands, smile at me with her giant, red-lipstick face under her beauty-parlor-set grey curls, and say, “Let me see you.” Then she’d look me and up and down, and say something like, “You look heavy, dearheart.” Or, once, “Lovey, are you getting too thin?”

I was not too thin.

I’d gained about 30 pounds since the start of the pandemic. It was the perfect storm of lockdown, loss, menopause, aging, sleep-deprivation, stress, and the slamming on the brakes of my lifelong workout habit. Last summer alone I must have gained 10 pounds but who knows? I refused to get on the scale. All I knew was that nothing fit. Nothing. Not even my shoes. I was down to one set of pajamas.

I know it wasn’t as visible on the outside because I’ve learned how to hide, cover, drape, mask, all of it. After all, I’ve had years of practice. But still.

At the doctors’ office, the nurse asked me to step on the scale.

“Don’t tell me,” I said, walking over. “Is it okay if I get on backwards?” I couldn’t even face the number. I still don’t even know what it was.

My doctor, at the end of our session, said in a very kind but matter-of-fact tone, “What are you going to do for weight loss?”

My eyes welled up with tears.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve tried everything. My weight just keeps going up and up, no matter what I do.”

Two years ago, I’d tried Metformin. Nothing. Then a year ago, I tried Ozempic. Ozempic made me so sick, I literally thought I was dying. I went away with some girlfriends to Miami, which I’d been looking forward to for months. I couldn’t leave the hotel room. My dear friend who I was sharing a room with? She moved out. I couldn’t stop vomiting and more, around the clock. It was terrible. Disgusting. So not worth it!

When I emailed that doctor, he was fairly blasé about it. It happens. Should be better in 3-4 days. DAYS?!!? Every hour was terrible.

What about non-medical intervention? Yes, that’s what I’ve been doing since I was nine years old. And back then, I was not overweight. Apparently I told my mother I was ashamed of my thighs and, given the diet culture of the 1980’s, she immediately whipped out the calories and carbohydrate’s guide, had me write down everything I ate, look up every calorie value, and add it up daily. Then she started taking me with her to Gilda’s aerobics.

Again, I was nine.

My summer at sleep away camp at age eight was when I learned to stress eat. I was so miserable that the only time of day I looked forward to was when the warm cookies came out.

When I was 14, I gained 20 pounds when my parents divorced. I wrote about how that felt and my mom found my musings and encouraged me to send in my essay to Seventeen magazine. They bought it! Two years later, it ran.

Things I tried:

• Counting calories

• Nutritionists

• Atkins

• Weight Watchers (and even became a Leader after losing 25 pounds only to gain it all back)

• The Carbohydrate Addicts Diet

• The Zone

• The Four Squares meal delivery service

• I started a group called Moms Don’t Have Time to Lose Weight in a private Instagram account, adding up our weight loss each week for a grand total to celebrate.

• I started a podcast with the same name.

Workouts I’ve become obsessed with:

• Running

• Spinning

• Step aerobics

• Slide (does anyone remember that? with the black booties?!)

• Pilates

• Cardio yoga

• HIIT

• Personal and group trainers

• Online workouts

• DanceBody

• Trampoline class

• Every class offered by Equinox from 2005 to 2015

• Barry’s Boot Camp

• Tae bo

• TRX

• The elliptical

• The Stairmaster

• Weights

• Tennis

Back to the doctor.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You need to see an endocrinologist who specializes in women’s health.”

Ugh. Great. Another doctor. But I went. I had no choice. It was a medical issue. My cholesterol levels were high. My sugar levels. Everything was out of whack.

At the next doctor’s visit, the beautiful, young doctor looked at my bloodwork and listened intently to what I was saying. I recited the details of my weight history — hiding food under my bed in middle school, yo-yo dieting, severe restriction in my late 20s and early 30s, all of it.

“You know,” she said, “you’re pre-diabetic, so your weight is going to keep going up. It’s not about willpower or anything you’re doing wrong. It’s your blood and your relationship to insulin plus menopause. We need to do something to help you.”

She recommended Mounjaro. Few side effects. Super effective. She then recommended I also take a stimulant called Vyvanse to control the binge eating and cravings.

“You’ll lose 30 pounds by the summer,” she said, typing it all into her computer.

I laughed, disbelieving.

“You honestly think I can do that?”

She looked me dead in the eye.

“Yes, or I wouldn’t be a good doctor.”

I went home, told no one, and filled the prescriptions.

The good news is that the Mounjaro had zero side effects. The injection was easier than a kids’ epi-pen. I basically lost my appetite. Unlike Ozempic which made everything just taste bad to me, Mounjaro allowed me to enjoy food but just stop eating before I went crazy.

Like, I could take a bite of a delicious chocolate chip cookie — and then stop. Just stop cold. I didn’t want it anymore. I was satisfied with only some of it. Ha! Do other people live like this naturally? I wondered. No wonder weight wasn’t an issue!

The bad news is that the stimulant was bad news. I do not need more focus. The stimulant felt like I was drinking six cups of coffee a day. I couldn’t fall asleep before 12:30 am and would be back up by 4:30 am. It felt physically impossible to tear myself away from the computer in a manic sort of way. My mouth had a weird taste all the time. Worst of all, I was irritable, rude, and just not myself. I went off it after two weeks.

And yet.

The weight just disappeared. It was like out of a fantasy. The insurmountable became a no-biggie. From September 16th to October 19th, I lost about 12 pounds. Maybe more. All my clothes fit again. Dresses I hadn’t worn in two years, zipped right up.

How did it work?

I wasn’t hungry. I stopped eating breakfast, not on purpose but because I was satisfied with my cup of coffee and didn’t even think about it.

In fact, I didn’t think about food. Like, at all. I stopped snacking. My portions were small. I never went back for seconds. A big meal was two pieces of sushi, a roll, and some rice. I wouldn’t eat the rest of the day. And I ate really slowly.

Did I work out? Not once. I have an Achilles injury so I would walk miles every week, but no cardio.

When I asked the doctor if I needed a meal plan, she said, “Your issue isn’t not knowing what to eat. You don’t need a nutritionist. Just eat whatever. You’re just going to lose weight no matter what.”

I really didn’t believe her. But it happened. A miracle.

My weight seems to be stabilizing where I am now, but hopefully it’ll stay on the downward trajectory. I’m hoping to just get back to my pre-pandemic weight. Not my pre-baby weight or my Weight Watchers goal weight circa 2004. That ship has sailed. But I would like to reduce my cholesterol, get rid of the pre-diabetes diagnosis, and be at a manageable weight for the rest of my life.

Not svelte. Just comfortable.

Mounjaro is a miracle.

Full stop.

Just please, don’t jinx it.