My family loves food. Bland, basic, all-American food, with a heavy dose of Mexican staples like enchiladas, tortillas, and some glorious dish called Steak Ranchero. This is what I grew up eating, and I hated almost all of it. I was a picky eater as a child, I never finished my plate, and would only eat ice cream if given the option. As I’m sure you can surmise, this lead to a not-so-great relationship with food. 

In college, I took my pickiness to the next level, living off the iceberg salad bar, ice cream cones, Dominos pizza, and Vodka with a hefty dose of cigarettes in between. Surprisingly, this was the most success I ever had at maintaining my goal weight. After graduation, an epic break-up, a not so nice boyfriend, and countless failed dreams, I discovered the comfort of food. 

20 years, 60+ pounds, and countless Super Burritos (Black beans, no meat, light rice, extra cheese, and hot sauce) later, I finally gave away my favorite dress and decided it was time to call Uncle. 

So, here I am, jet lagged from my red eye flight last night, watching a video about using the Wegovy injector pen, and obsessively rubbing an alcohol wipe on the skin of my upper thigh. I hate needles, despite my history of body piercings, and I am not sure how I am going to react having to inject myself, but I count to three and push down hard.

The pain is nothing as the yellow indicator line slowly moves down. I am relieved, and scared of the gruesome side effects reported by my Reddit compatriots. I have a plan to not become one of the victims, but I am also realistic about the science and odds I’m going to suffer from painful constipation at least once during this journey. 

I hear the second click and watch the yellow line disappear. I sit for a moment and assess my body - no change. My appetite - same. It’s time to walk the dog, so I get up, feel a bit of sting in my thigh where the medicine was injected and shake it off. Too late to change my mind, I grab the leash and walk out the door.

I woke up with a mix of excitement including Christmas Morning-like jubilation and that feeling when you wake up and realize you did not study for the test. I was not hungry or exhausted like my fake friends on Reddit reported. I am jetlagged, so I could be fatigued, and that’s being masked by the after effects of a 3 hour time difference. 

I downed a liter of water (I really hate constipation) and took the dog for a walk before I made my coffee. I was not very hungry when we got back, so I just had my coffee and a protein drink (I’m also scared of malnutrition). The day went on, and I just wasn’t hungry, until I was Hangry. It was a wild ride. 

I met a friend for dinner at a local fish-fry restaurant, and it took me forever to finish a single light beer, and even longer to eat a decent amount of my grilled fish sandwich, with fries (I am only human). I left a lot on the plate and went home a bit overfull. I guess it’s working or the placebo effect is very strong.

Today was a day. I make cakes and cupcakes (hence the name of this site) for friends on their birthdays, or whenever they ask. When I make the cakes, I tend to sample a lot along the way, and I was concerned about how that would react with the Wegovy. 

The cake and cupcake baking was a trial by fire. I have been doing this since Covid, and today testing my abilities. Everything went wrong, so I spent the day troubleshooting and correcting, but not really sampling. I did eat a lot of the fillings I made, but not nearly as much as I would have in past baking adventures.

I was late for the dinner due to the mishaps related to the baking, but when I arrived, I ordered sensibly, had a small glass of wine, and managed to have a good time. We left the restaurant for a bar, and there I had a seltzer or two, but really was not interested in drinking.

Around midnight I drove myself home, sober, not hungry, and feeling pretty good about this whole Wegovy journey.