TRUST me, I’m not a doctor.
But as the first national newspaper journalist to investigate fat jabs, (and, in so doing, vomit in a Waitrose bag for life on a packed commuter train) I DO know what I’m talking about.
So believe me, the mass roll-out of weight-loss jabs isn’t the great health revolution Big Pharma promises. The only true victors, at present, are Big Pharma.
The plan to let GPs prescribe Mounjaro to those with a BMI over 40 and at least four other health problems — such as Type 2 diabetes or high blood pressure — is whacking a plaster on a severed arm.
Or, indeed, a safety pin on the bulging seams of a fatty’s waistband.
These are miracle drugs. But they address the problem, NOT the cause.
And obesity, as so many will testify, is as much an emotional problem as physical. Where is the help for people who use food as a crutch? No one chooses to stuff themselves with doughnuts 24/7.
Unless there’s a longer-term strategy, one prioritising prevention over quick-fix cure, we shall go from being a nation of porkers to a nation of yo-yo porkers; ‘healthy’ one month, obese again five months after the jabs have stopped.
In other words, the majority of people will need to be on them for life. (Or “lifers”, as one celeb WhatsApp group is named, consisting entirely of those micro-dosing Mounjaro).
GPs, who already claim they’re overworked, won’t have the time to give every patient a dedicated exercise and diet plan. Getting lean isn’t a one-size-fits-all programme.
The fear, then, is that the grossly overweight will be able to plop on their sofas, merrily jabbing once a week — at taxpayer expense — waiting for the lard to drop off.
The same foods that got them here — invariably ultra-processed, fried — are still consumed. Just less of them.
That’s not healthy — it is simply scratching that McDonald’s itch with a Quarter Pounder instead of a Big Mac.
Natural desire
Unless people exercise concurrently, once the weight is off, they’ll be left with uncomfortable excess skin.
In April 2023, during a trip to Los Angeles (where A-listers have been on Wegovy, Mounjaro and Ozempic since 2018) I tried out all three pens.
I wrote about the experience, warning of the deeply unpleasant side effects.
In five months I lost around 8kg, dropping to a tiny size 8.
I hadn’t weighed so little since I was at university. I looked amazing, bar a touch of “Ozempic Face”.
And — with the exception of Mounjaro for which there were blessedly few side effects — I felt horrific. I was sick, repeatedly (once, a nadir, under a table in First Class on a heaving rush hour train), once on a treadmill (jogging) and on one occasion I visibly retched while on a Zoom call to a Hollywood actress.
Plus my eyes went blurry, prompting a quick visit to Moorfields Eye Hospital.
“No pain no gain” has its limits.
Anyway, convinced I’d have entirely reprogrammed my brain — one that thinks about my next snack the very nanosecond it stirs in the morning — I came off them. And promptly shot up a dress size.
I write this as someone who knows how to eat, and goes to the gym come hell or hangover five days a week.
But still I battle daily my natural desire to smash a kilo of peanut butter and eat delicious olive-oily pasta daily.
Fat jabs are 100 per cent a miracle drug. But they do not address the emotional side of eating (or drinking) that so, so many Brits suffer with.
Of course there are exceptions: those who use the jabs positively to break the pattern, kick-starting a fantastic lifestyle overhaul. But they’re the exceptions.
Unless we want a bunch of “lifers”, the NHS MUST use these drugs with caution, and start developing a weaning-off process.
At present, there is none. And that must change.
IT’S ALL WHITE NOW…
THREE months is a long time in showbusiness.
Back in spring, Rachel Zegler’s disastrous turn as Snow White – which saw her slagging off the original film for being “weird” and sexist promptly after getting the million pound big break – had her on the verge of cancellation.
Today she’s being feted on a daily basis, and lauded as the most exciting West End talent in decades.
Playing Evita at the London Palladium, each night huge crowds are gathering on the street to see this young superstar belt out Don’t Cry For Me Argentina.
She is, by all accounts, mind-blowingly good.
MINISTERS spent more than £500,000 of taxpayers’ money on a new makeover of the Government website.
And the “makeover” in question?
From this . . .
To this . . .
Yep, the black to blue refresh, with a dot placed approx two millimetres higher up, is what your hard-earned dollar is paying for.
Cool.
SOUND POLICY
IDEA of the week.
Should Keir, Kemi or Nige fancy a guaranteed vote-winner, whack this on the next election manifesto.
Anyone caught playing music/TV/video games on their tablet/smartphone on public transport, minus headphones should receive an automatic prison sentence.
Genuinely, is there ANYTHING more annoying?
HOST’S RIGHT ON CUE
KUDOS to Martine Croxall.
The BBC News presenter calmly overrode the corporation’s pathetically woke autocue, correcting it from a bulletin about “pregnant people” to “women”.
Martine is a previous winner of Celebrity Mastermind, which explains it.
Unlike the silly young fool who writes BBC News scripts.
MUCH kerfuffle surrounding the Assisted Dying Bill finally getting passed last week.
Why?
For me, it’s really very simple. We treat our aged, ill and cherished pets with love, respect and kindness towards the end of life, we should do the same for ourselves.
It won’t result in hundreds of thousands of dead-before-their-time OAP’s being perfidiously wiped out by greedy grandkids; it will simply mean fewer people dying in greater pain.
TAKING CARE OF MYSELFIE
OBVIOUSLY I’m a sucker for a trend.
Like a lemming to a cliff edge, off I trot to try out what the cool kids do – which is how I stumbled upon the latest-ish TikTok fad for putting a selfie into Chat GPT and asking it what you’d look like under different circumstances.
So off I ventured, instructing my virtual friend to tell me what I’d look like in five years time if I “smoked 40 a day” and “didn’t moisturise”. The results, as you can see, weren’t pretty.
Next, I asked it how I’d fare if “ate only whole foods, exercised five days a week, drank two litres of mineralised water, took weekly facials and had no stress in my life; the results were prettier, albeit somewhat insultingly it gave me an entirely new face.
Finally, I asked Chat GPT to show me 12 stone portlier – see for yourselves.
*Orders fat jab*
BRAT’S WAY TO DO IT
WHO says women’s tennis isn’t a patch on men’s?
Russian-born Yulia Putintseva, aka the sport’s biggest brat, who last year taunted a ball girl, got in another spat after her third round match against Maria Sakkari at the Bad Homberg Open.
After Putintseva refused to make eye contact while shaking hands, Sakkari told her to “act like a human being”, before adding, cuttingly: “Nobody likes you”.
Ms Putintseva promptly told her opponent to “go f***” herself.
Language which will go down a treat next week when Wimbledon starts.
