Four Pints and a Full English
A medical appointment turned into a full English, four pints of Guinness, and cheese on toast for good measure. My wife and I compared notes on Mounjaro — she gets the hunger without the want, I get it the other way round.
Had an early medical appointment, which is a strange thing to call the best bit of a great day. Breakfast after: two sausage, two bacon, two eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes, toast. Proper breakfast, none of your poncy avocado nonsense. Then on to the pub for the afternoon — four pints of Guinness.
Cheese on toast for dinner, salt and a spicy pepper grinder, which somehow felt exactly right after all that.
The best part of the day wasn’t the food, though. It was comparing notes with my wife, who’s also on Mounjaro. She’s gone from morbidly obese to overweight, which is a genuinely serious achievement. And her experience of the medication is almost the mirror image of mine.
Her body still sends hunger signals. Her mind just isn’t that interested in food. Mine’s the opposite — my stomach’s largely stopped asking, but my head still remembers what things taste like and fancies them anyway. Hunger and wanting aren’t the same thing, and apparently they can split in either direction.
Nice to have someone to compare that with. Not competing over numbers, just two different versions of the same medication doing two different jobs.
Neither of us has told anyone we’re on it. For me it’s mostly circumstance — I’m only in the office on Mondays, so the gradual change hasn’t really registered with anyone. For her, I’m honestly not sure why, but we’ve never felt any need to make it public between us either. We talk about the embarrassing bits, the digestive disasters, the differences, without having to explain or defend any of it to anyone else.
As for today’s digestive department: a full English, four Guinness and cheese on toast in one day is probably asking for trouble tomorrow. We’ll see.