Have you heard of Orlistat? If you haven’t, here’s a treat! If you have, poor you…
I haven’t updated my ‘Cysters Are Doing It For Themselves’ series for ages. This isn’t because I fell off the wagon, walking around with carbs and dairy dangling from every orifice, or chucked my gym shoes in the bin for being completely unhelpful in my bid for unfattydom (not a word, but I like it.) It’s partly down to laziness-I had big plans to type up recipes, and buoy up my fellow Cysters with tribal hollers of ‘we can fucking do this,’ whilst getting a hashtag trending, about empowering PCOS losers (in the weight loss capacity obvs,) to carry on the ‘fight’ and the ‘journey,’ and other empowerment buzzwords. But I lost impetus, and also went a bit batshit and needed a break from writing. It was also mainly because I had nothing much to add, as after the initial loss of 28lbs, there have been about three months where I’ve lost nothing.
Nada. Sweet FA. I’d tried moving the scales around the house, in the hope that one room would hold some voodoo power, and tell me I weighed less. I’d imagine weightlessness (jeez, the desperation,) when weighing myself, and try and lift all my bodyweight towards the ceiling. I even announced them to be ‘fucking faulty,’ and got myself weighed properly, only to have a tantrum of frustration to be told they were, in fact, correct.
So off I trot to the GP, to see if there is any straw clutching thing that can be done. And she prescribed Orlistat. If you don’t know what this is, it basically takes 1/3 of the fat you eat, liquefies it into fluorescent orange oil, and you crap it from your body. I know.
I sat there as she prescribed it, half devastated that this was the only option left to me (because my diet isn’t that fatty right?? I don’t need them, they’re pointless, right??) and half smug that I wouldn’t be shitting the contents of a room full of 80’s disco goers clothes, because my diet is so fucking good.
I tried to be optimistic. At best, the tablets would take whatever fat got through my diet barrier, and would help, at worst, I might get a slightly grumbly stomach (which happens if you aren’t eating enough fat, apparently.) It turns out that Orlistat doesn’t like salmon. It doesn’t like avocado. It doesn’t seem to like you cooking anything with olive oil. It waits like the omnipresent predator that is, and liquefies the tiniest bit of fat that happens upon its evil clutches, and evacuates if from your body before you can scream ‘SHART!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’
Every single meal became a silent prayer for my sphincter muscles to brace. I needed to stick a military training officer up there to scream at it to toughen the hell up. If I needed to go, I had to GO GO GO. And getting there in time was the easy part-imagine your entire south region then being covered with an oily lava, that just won’t for the love of GOD, come off. ‘Why are you in the shower again mummy??’ became the biggest FAQ of every day.
I’m actually happy with my diet as it is, and I feel pretty unwilling to cut out anything more (haven’t I already lost enough-cheese, I really fucking miss you. Never has anyone understood me more.) If I cut out the remaining good fats from my diet, I’ll basically be living on nuts, raw vegetables, and despair. Imagine if I ate a McDonalds with these bastards??? I’d illuminate the whole of Bristol with fluorescent lava, in one tiny bum pump.
Enough, I’m not taking them (although interestingly, after the first five days, the scales did finally shift in the right direction by 3lbs.) But I already have to wear a pad for body combat, because of the likelihood I’ll roundhouse, punch, and piss myself. Double incontinence at 34 is not on my bucket list, I don’t have time for this (literal) shit. If I continue like this, you might as well check me into a care home, write my care plans for my double incontinence, and call me Mildred. Orlistat, it’s been a blast (from my ass at least,) but I don’t wish to form any long lasting partnership here. Off you trot back to Satan’s asshole, or wherever it was you came from.