A Year on the Fat Shot
Posted: July 14, 2026 Filed under: Uncategorized, Weight Management, Life's Observations, Health | Tags: making changes, weight loss, GLP-1, Zepbound, Mounjaro, Ozempic, Health, diet, fitness, nutrition 1 CommentIt’s officially been a year since I started taking Zepbound (aka Mounjaro aka Tirzepatide aka the ‘fat shot’) to lose weight and treat my obesity. I’ll cut to the part everyone wants to know, how much weight I’ve lost – I’m down 45 pounds.
Is that good? Well, it’s certainly better than gaining, any amount of pounds, really. And I cannot think of a time since the 90’s that I lost weight and wasn’t either diagnosed with a chronic condition or kept it off for more than 5 minutes. According to the trials, on average, participants lost 50lbs over 18 months (or about 20% of their starting weight). At 45lbs and 17% lost over 12 months, I’m pretty much on track or maybe even a teeny bit better than average. That said, it’s honestly felt a little slow at times. I’m grateful I am not a “non-responder,” the unlucky few who lost no weight in the trials, but I’m also not a “super responder” who dropped huge amounts in a short time. That comes with it’s own set of problems, but I’m not going to lie, there was a part of me that had hoped I might be more “super” in my response. I am where I’m supposed to be and ultimately I’m fine with that.
Has it been hard to lose the weight? No. Not even a little. I simply eat less than I did before. Attempting to lose weight “the old fashioned way” before going on this medication was impossibly hard. I was miserable, hungry, and frustrated all.of.the.time and I failed to lose (or maintain any losses I did have). I guess this lack of struggle is why people like to say the shot is cheating, but that suggests that losing weight is matter of laziness or lack of discipline. I’ve gained weight training to run marathons, an activity that requires both discipline and a marked absence of laziness. Maybe I need to better manage my diet. Sort of like when I cut out dairy, processed meat, and raw vegetables to manage my Crohn’s Disease, or when I stopped drinking all caffeine, any carbonated soda, and largely quit consuming alcohol (Manhattans on your birthday or anniversary don’t count). How can I be so active and change my eating habits so drastically and not lose any weight? It’s like obesity is a disease or something… To be clear, the journey hasn’t been perfect. I have had brief stalls and some minor gains along the way, but the overall trend has been in the losing direction. To anyone who thinks I just didn’t try hard enough without these cheater drugs; first, who cares what you think and, second, 57 years seemed like long enough of failing at the ‘real’ way to try a new approach.
I have been pretty lucky in regards to side effects on Zepbound. I went from being hot all the time to being cold all the time, but hoodies and sweaters keep that manageable. Around the 2nd day after the injection, I often get vasomotor rhinitis (a runny nose), but that is more of a minor nuisance and is transient. Periodically, I will sit down to a meal and the timing is such that I can only eat a bite or two and have to stop. That does not happen often and was more of an issue in the early months than it is now. I still have an appetite. I still enjoy eating and all the other joys of life. I do not journal my food or count calories or macros. Those strike me as the actions of someone on a diet and I refuse to diet. I might lose more or faster if I treated this like a diet, but we all know what happens when the diet ends. My focus is on being as healthy as I can and also still being a normal human. I do try to be mindful of eating protein and fiber, and did bump up my weekly resistance training to 2 classes a week, but honestly those are things any sensible middle-aged menopausal woman should be doing anyway.
Wow, that sounds effortless and without any challenges or problems. Ha. My challenges are all in my head. I spent a long time coming to terms with my size and learning to love myself, regardless of that size. Now, I am back in a place where I am very aware of my weight and am paying closer attention to the number on the scale. I wonder if people notice that I’ve lost weight. Some folks comment, others say nothing and I am not sure if they are being respectful by not commenting on my body or if they simply don’t notice. Probably both are true. While the weight I’ve lost is significant, when you need to lose another 90-100 pounds to get to a healthy range, the current loss is not as impactful in pictures as you might think. It’s also more than a little sobering to lose 45 pounds and still be clinically obese. I do try to look at other non-scale factors. I take measurements monthly and those have changed a little, but also not as much as one might imagine. My current clothes are quite loose, which is fun, but I recently bought a few items in the next size down and they just barely fit, if not are a little snug. I’m in the twilight zone between sizes. It also makes me realize that I was wearing my old clothes FAR beyond their appropriate level of fit. When I look at before and after pictures, I have to confess I am more shocked by how large I look in the old pictures than amazed by how I look now. There is also the annoying reality that I am on the borderline of the maximum amount of weight I can expect to lose on this drug. All of this has messed with my perceptions of my own size. I continue to practice self-compassion in this and all things, but it’s an ongoing process. Some days I am better at it than others.
I had high hopes for my recent annual wellness exam in May. After all, the ultimate point of starting this journey was to stay alive and well as long as possible. I have tried to cut back my blood pressure meds since starting the shot, but every time I do, my blood pressure jumps back up and I have to return to the previous dosage. More than one provider has assured me my blood pressure will go down as my weight does. Maybe after the next 45 pounds… My A1C did drop to the healthy range, which is awesome, but it was only a little above normal before and my PCP was only mildly to not impressed by that change. My cholesterol did drop quite a bit, but is still in the way too high range. We also added the ApoB and Lp(a) lab tests this time around which sealed the deal on my starting a statin. Instead of dropping meds, I added a new one. Sigh. My GERD is markedly improved, but trying to wean off that med has also proven unsuccessful. So, I still take an annoyingly high number (to me anyway) of prescription medications. However, I was reminded that sometimes not getting worse is actually an improvement. Without the Zepbound and the weight loss, who knows what my health stats would have been. It would not take a crystal ball to predict they easily could have been worse. Plus, the real take-away from all of this medical mumbo-jumbo is that I am taking care of my health. I am getting monitored and taking steps to address any issues. Steps that are just as important for skinny folks as they are for those of us in larger bodies (not to mention aging ones).
All of that said, am I glad I took the leap and started taking a GLP-1? So far, the positives have far outweighed the challenges. Do I think this class of drugs is a magic panacea for all weight-related woes? Sorry folks, there is no such unicorn drug. Just like bariatric surgery is great for some people, but was not the right choice for me, these powerful drugs may be a miracle for some and a nightmare for others. They are a tool in a hopefully expanding toolbox for treating obesity. I am grateful they have proven effective for me, and that I have the means to afford them. I do wish they were not so cost prohibitive to those who could benefit but don’t have the means to shill out a car payment sized monthly amount, but I hope that limitation will improve as new drugs come on the market and existing ones start to get generics. A year in, I am better off than before I started and you can’t ask for much more than that.
Who Suffers the Most?
Posted: April 6, 2026 Filed under: Brain Cancer, Health, Life's Observations | Tags: Caregiving, GBM, Glioblastoma Leave a comment
I have been thinking much on the subject of loss, in regards to brain cancer patients and their primary caregivers. The question came up in a recent support group conversation about whether it is the patient, or their closest (primary) caregiver who suffers the most. Due to both the cognitive and physical impact of brain cancer, patients often have to give up favorite activities or subject matter expertise for which they were known professionally. Think of the accountant who can no longer manage their finances, or the ski instructor who can no longer ski, let alone instruct. Brian had to sell his motorcycle and no longer sails.
I chatted with Brian on the matter, and we each have our own takes, but the general consensus was “it depends.” For Brian, he found the best path to happiness (for him anyway) was to embrace his current situation and look back on his former life with fondness versus regret. He has many happy memories of riding his motorcycle and no regrets for selling it when he could no longer ride safely. He has kind of a unique take on life, but he does not think of having to set aside various activities in a negative light. He prefers to appreciate the goodness that he has now. With that in mind, he commented that he thinks I am often more hung up on his losses than him. It is true that I am not nearly as Zen about this all as he appears to be. He could also be riding the wave of denial, but it seems to be serving him at the moment, so who am I to challenge it.
Initially, I was fired up to expound that caregivers can experience even more loss than their patient, and I was ready to rattle off various scenarios in which I suffered more. (How noble of me, lol.) But the more I (over)thought about it, the more I feel like this horrible journey is not a suffering contest. There is no prize for the one who suffers the most. You can always find others who suffer more than you, but that does not diminish your own pain. Think about the famous person who seemingly has everything and then ultimately takes their own life (Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain come to mind as examples). I have lost much in this journey of care-giving for a spouse with Glioblastoma, including leaving my career, but I feel extremely lucky that Brian has been stable as long as he has. At the same time, the specter of recurrence hovers ever in the background. I try to honor the positives and acknowledge the negatives and live somewhere between the two ends of the suffering/celebrating spectrum. Some days I am better at it than others.
It also feels disingenuous to even suggest anyone other than the brain cancer patient would suffer any more than the patient would. They are literally losing part of their mind – the thing that makes them them, and ultimately lose often their very life to this diagnosis. Is it even possible to suffer ‘more’ because you bear witness to their loss as well as experience your own? But yet I have to ask, why do we proclaim that the patient suffers more, or even try to compare suffering between patient and caregiver? It seems to me that we all suffer in one form or another and there is not a need to designate the patient as the ultimate sufferer.
But perhaps I am missing the point. I certainly believe that honoring the self-hood of the patient is paramount. As the primary caregiver, I cannot count the times I have had to protect my patient from well-meaning others, outside the inner circle, who either vastly under (or over) estimate their capabilities And the idea of losing one’s personhood is truly gut wrenching. To imagine it happening to ourselves is almost unfathomable and then to watch it happen to our loved one defies understanding. That said, do we truly ever know the suffering of another person and who are we to say our own suffering is ‘less than?’
Supposedly, Viktor Frankl said, “Never compare suffering. Everyone has their own Auschwitz.”
Brené Brown said, “Empathy is not finite, and compassion is not a pizza with eight slices.”
Maybe the greater question in all this is why is self-compassion so hard? Why do we look for ways to extend it to others and believe there will be none left for ourselves?
Tips for Getting a Colonoscopy
Posted: November 22, 2014 Filed under: Health | Tags: colonoscopy, healthcare 1 CommentThis is not a very sexy post, but neither is getting colon cancer, so let’s just leave it at that. If you want something more entertaining in the colonoscopy-lit genre, may I suggest Dave Barry: A journey into my colon — and yours. As Dave and anyone else who has ever had a colonoscopy can tell you, the procedure is no big deal. If you need one, go get one. On the scale of awkward and painful, I’d take a colonoscopy over a root canal any day.
What follows are a few tidbits that made my own experience a few months back easier and/or I wish I had known beforehand.
Planning
- Pick a Friend – they will tell you this when you call to schedule, so it may go without saying, but you will be sedated during the procedure and will need someone to take you there and take you home. No transportation buddy, no procedure.
- Pick a Day – I suggest a Friday. You will feel right as rain after the procedure, but you will be tired from both the sedation and being up all night in the loo.
- Pick a Time – this is the one I wish I had asked about more carefully. I am a morning person and figured early was better. However, I did not realize that my prep was a two-step process and selecting an 8am procedure meant I would have to get up at 4am to take a second dose of the prep. Ask the scheduler to help you factor the prep times into your selection of a procedure time. Note: you also don’t want to pick a time that is too late as your prep will then interfere with your ability to live a normal life greater than 2 feet from a bathroom.
- Pick your Poison – turns out there is more than one way to clean out your colon. Some prep solutions are more or less awful than the next. Make no mistake, to date, there is no good tasting bowel prep, but ask about the prep they are selecting for you and what are the pros/cons and options. (I had Suprep, which tasted like a liquid salt lick, but the internet says is less awful than some of the other options.)
The Week Ahead
- Go Vegetarian – or at least drop the red meat. The less you have in your colon, the less work the prep has to do. Save the surf-n-turf for a celebratory post-procedure meal and stick to lighter fare before-hand.
The Day Ahead
- No Food for you – this will be part of your instructions, but you will be on an all clear liquids diet the day before the procedure. You can eat jello, but no red or purple jello. And believe me there is only so much green jello a person can eat. Chicken broth and Sprite were my faithful companions.
Prep-time
- Chill it – mix up the prep ahead of time and put it in the fridge (unless your prep requires otherwise – see ‘pick your poison’ above). For whatever reason, chilled prep seems to go down better than room temperature prep.
- Suck it – having a straw made the prep go down way easier and faster than trying to drink it out of the container.
- Drink it – the prep is awful tasting and it is extremely tempting to bail out on finishing it all, but if you do not complete the prep and your colon is not clean enough, they will reschedule or repeat the procedure. What is worse than having to drink all that gross prep? Having to drink it again less than 10 years later…
Go-time
- Short Attention Span Theater – As far as what to do when you are traipsing back and forth from the bathroom, some folks suggest taking an iPad with you and just stay in there for the duration. I did not find that necessary or desirable. However, whatever you decide to do, it will be punctuated by frequent interruptions. I put on some of my old favorite movies that I had seen a million times and therefore could safely pop in and out of the plot without missing anything.
- Baby your butt – one of the best bits of advice I got was to buy baby wipes. You will spend a lot of quality time on the throne during the prep and your bum gets a bit tender from all the wiping.
Procedure Day
- Weigh-in – They will weigh you at the hospital when they take your vitals it will be the one day in your life you will be excited about getting on a scale.
- Take a little nap – they will hook you up to an IV and give you a sedative and then you will wake up and it’s all over. There is no discomfort or after-effects as, get this, there are no nerve endings inside your colon.
That’s it. Go home and have steak and eggs for breakfast. Relax on the sofa and watch a movie all the way through. Pat yourself on the back for doing something that’s really not so difficult and may save your life. Encourage a friend to do the same.





