Week One on Mounjaro – Headaches, Halloween and Husband-Sabotage

Let’s set the scene.

It’s Day 1. I’ve done the injection. No side effects. No drama. Honestly, a little too quiet. Which obviously made me panic—had I done it wrong?!
Cue me googling “Can you mess up a Mounjaro injection and accidentally inject your elbow?” (Answer: no. But still.)

Day 2.
My stomach started making noises. Not polite little grumbles, oh no. We’re talking full-on whale song 30 minutes after lunch.
And it wasn’t hunger—I checked. Multiple times.
It was more like my insides were trying to communicate with aliens.
Thank God I was home alone or the husband would’ve made jokes I’m not emotionally ready to handle.

Day 3.
Headache. THE. HEADACHE.
Like I’d been hit by a headache truck that then reversed over me for good measure.
I could barely lift my head. Honestly, I started planning who would inherit my leggings collection.
But a few mouthfuls of squash and poof, gone. Very dramatic. I do love a flair for the theatrical.

Oh, and by the way—it’s Halloween.
Whose stupid idea was it to start a weight-loss injection before Halloween? (Mine. Obviously mine.)
So I’m sat there like a slightly pained sugar fairy, handing out sweets with a mountain of chocolate next to me.
Every time the doorbell rang I chirped, “Trick or treat!” like Mary bloody Poppins, while desperately avoiding eye contact with the Maltesers.

Then he walks in.
The husband.
Sits down next to me with a handful of chocolates, a bag of crisps, and a very large red wine. Honestly, romance is dead.

So I crack. I take three mini chocolate bars and a bag of salt and vinegar crisps.
Fine. Whatever. I’ve got this.

Except I haven’t.

I start eating the crisps and suddenly I feel ill.
Like elephant-on-my-chest, what-have-I-done, who’s-stabbing-my-insides level ill.
I go to bed in defeat. Can’t get comfy. I feel SO queasy. Four hours of this!
The moral of this horror story?
If I feel full, I will STOP EATING.
(Side note: I have never written that sentence before in my life.)

Day 4:
Headache returns. Doesn’t knock first. Very rude.

Day 5 – Saturday!
Went out for lunch. Big moment. First time eating out on the meds. I picked something fairly healthy (hold your applause), no starter, no dessert.
Only mistake?
Diet Coke.
Carbonation is not my friend. I took two sips and my stomach said “Absolutely not.”
Also didn’t fancy risking alcohol on the meds. But what do you drink in a pub if not wine or gin?! A pint of still water just doesn’t have the same joy, does it?
The struggle is real.

Day 6:
Headaches have calmed down—turns out I was basically living like a dehydrated raisin.
So now I’m forcing myself to drink water.
Like, actual water. Not coffee. Not Coke. Not wine (my usual hydration strategy).
To be fair, I do excel at gin and wine.
But this week, I’ve managed six whole days without a drink. Even Monday.
Even when work was awful and the husband (again!) poured himself a giant glass of red with all the smugness of a man who has no hormonal cravings whatsoever.

Day 7:
Made it. Alive. Relatively unscathed.
Zero alcohol. A few headaches. The Halloween Incident of Doom.
But overall—honestly? I’m proud of me.

🎉 Drum roll please…
I’m down 3.8lbs!
Very, very happy with that.

It’s not perfect. It’s progress.
I’m learning, I’m adjusting, and I’ve officially survived Week One without throwing the scale (or the husband) out the window.

More updates soon, friends—complete with confessions, awkward pub orders, and hopefully fewer elephants sitting on my chest.

With love (and an unusually large bottle of Evian),
Helen x
One small step at a time.