Until this week, everything was going marvellously. My size 12 jeans were gaping at the waistline, and I could slip into a vintage designer dress that I'd bought optimistically ten years ago, which I could never even get over my hips.
At the gym, a frenemy looked me up and down with barely disguised envy. It was all most pleasing. Since last September, I have lost around a stone and a half, dropping from a to a size I'm the slimmest I've been in 15 years. And, best of all, I've done it effortlessly, thanks to my very secret weapon, Mounjaro. After a lifetime of yo-yo dieting, I felt I had found the secret of easy weight loss , and I planned to use the drug on and off forever.
But then came last week's news that my no-gravy train might be hitting the buffers. The General Pharmaceutical Council, which regulates all pharmacies, including online clinics, has announced regulations to clamp down on people like me getting their newly slender hands on Mounjaro, Ozempic and similar 'fat jabs'. New patients and anyone, like me, ordering a monthly repeat prescription is now required to have their height and weight 'independently verified', by a pharmacist or doctor, via an in-person appointment or, a video consultation.
My reaction? Since last September, I have lost around a stone and a half, dropping from a to a size 12, Florence Green writes As I revealed in these pages last year, I wasn't entirely honest when I secured the miracle that is Mounjaro.
I bought my first month's supply last autumn and I, ahem, stretched the truth a little. To get a prescription, you are supposed to have a BMI of 30, making you obese, or at least one of 27 β overweight β plus a weight-related condition, such as high cholesterol, or raised blood pressure. The online clinic had asked I send them a selfie showing my figure, plus another of me standing on the scales with the numbers clearly visible.
