The Daily Telegraph - Saturday
I am not ashamed I lost over
Jacqueline Keddie, 56, found that, like Oprah Winfrey, the injections made her obsession with food disappear
When I read Oprah Winfrey’s comments about the “fighting in her brain” she endured when battling to lose weight I knew exactly what she meant.
Like her, I felt I should be able to figure it out, but just couldn’t, and like Oprah I’ve found using weight-loss jabs to be life-changing. The US star has been shamed for using them, as have I, although in a much smaller way as I’m not a public figure. I work for the NHS in a hospital lab.
My weight issues only really began with the menopause. When I first met my husband, David, 15 years ago I was in my early 40s, a single mum who was slim, fun-loving and confident. We married six weeks later in a whirlwind romance. We were both so happy to have found love in later life.
But then a year and a half into the marriage I hit the menopause. Over the next 10 years I turned into a fat, frumpy old lady. I was struggling with hot flushes and mood swings and felt pretty sorry for myself.
At 5ft 6in my once size 8 figure expanded to size 16. The pounds had piled up around my middle. My limbs were reasonably slim but with my big barrel of a tummy, even bending to tie my shoelaces was a struggle. I knew belly fat was the most dangerous type as it puts a strain on your heart. My own mother had had heart disease and diabetes, and other family members had suffered heart attacks, so I was worried.
What’s more, I broke several bones – my toe, two ribs and my collarbone – simply doing chores. The doctor said I had osteoporosis, and prescribed HRT, vitamin D and calcium tablets. When I was weighed, the scales tipped 12st 9lb, the heaviest I’d ever been. He gently said, “If you lost weight it would help prevent more bones breaking.”
For all the warning signs that my weight would make me physically unwell in later life, it was my mental health that affected me the most. I’d stopped taking pride in my appearance. I rarely bought clothes and when I did I just grabbed baggy T-shirts and leggings from Primark in which to hide. My libido was zero and I always insisted the lights were switched off in the bedroom.
I felt tired all the time, and comfort ate – greasy food from the canteen, chips with curry sauce washed down with red wine in the evenings.
I tried joining a gym but with bad knees and a frozen shoulder it wasn’t working. The idea of joining a slimming group and getting on the scales in front of everyone was not for me either. I tried the Cambridge Diet, a liquid one, but was left hungry and craving junk food. Trying to restrict myself was mental torture and, as Oprah described, there were all these noises in my head: What can I eat? What can’t I eat? I obsessed over any forbidden foods.
The first time I heard about Ozempic was about a year ago; it was a little-known drug the characters on reality TV show The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills talked about. Elon Musk also used it.
I started researching it and found private companies which had