Well, my darling Jabbers… we made it. ONE. HUNDRED. DAYS. A whole century of jabs, cravings, burps, plateaus, triumphs, and toilets. And how did I celebrate this momentous milestone, you ask? By starting the morning with my head in the toilet. No, not because of champagne or questionable kebabs. Not even because I wanted to admire my new toilet duck. But because my stomach decided, “You know what would be fun? Let’s expel everything she’s eaten since August.” It was like a ga

Ah, my darling Jabbers. We meet again. Day 99. Ninety-nine days of jabs, bloating, burping, bravery, and now… rain. So much rain. Let’s dive right in (quite literally, as you’ll soon see). 5am - Rise and Whine: Another 5am wake-up. Why? Who am I trying to impress? The King? The sunrise? Nevertheless, I heroically rolled out of bed, muttering obscenities and negotiating with my knees, who were not in the mood to bend. First mission of the day: weigh-in. And let me tell you - t

Ah, Day 98. It began, as all glamorous mornings do, with me waking up at 5pm… wait. No. That’s not a typo. 5pm. I woke up to Molly’s butt in my face. The alarm hadn’t even gone off - apparently, I’m now on dog time. There I was, bleary-eyed, fumbling in the darkness, trying to locate my dignity and a pair of socks, before realising: I actually had to function like a human being today. So off I went, driving through the pitch-black abyss, muttering motivational quotes to mysel

Week 14: Plateau? I Hardly Know Her! Gather round, my darling Jabbers, for it is I - your ever-hopeful, ever-hungry heroine - reporting live from the Mounjaro rollercoaster, week 14 edition. And what a thrilling ride it’s been… except the ride seems to have stopped. On the same spot. For two. Whole. Weeks. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the scales and I are currently locked in a passive-aggressive staring contest. Every morning, I approach with optimism and perhaps a touch of del

Slightly different post today my fellow Jabbers! A bit of a reflection really… Ah, Mounjaro. The tiny weekly syringe that launched a thousand lifestyle overhauls - part miracle, part menace, all drama. The jab that promised control, calm, and confidence… and delivered a side order of nausea, introspection, and burps that could rattle crockery. When I started, I imagined Mounjaro would turn me into that woman - you know the one: sipping lemon water, glowing like she’s sponsore

Wow. What. A. Night. Friends, Romans, Jabbers… lend me your disinfectant. Because I have survived the feline equivalent of a zombie apocalypse - but with more hairballs and less sense of mercy. Let’s start with the obvious: I did not sleep. At all. Well, maybe there was an hour in there somewhere, sandwiched between the sounds of retching, the frantic scrabble of paws, and me muttering, “Oh God, not again,” into a roll of kitchen towel. My poor baby Ruby - Queen of Chaos, Duc

(A JABatha Christie special: starring toast, gastroparesis, and one delusional Cruella De Vil) Wow. What. A. Weekend. Honestly, if there were medals for surviving chaos wrapped in glitter and digestive failure - I’d be a gold medallist by now. Saturday - The Witching Hour Begins 🧙‍♀️🎶 It started slow… too slow. A lazy Saturday morning, the calm before the storm. I had plans - big plans - but my stomach apparently had other ones, namely, “let’s retch dramatically for no reas

My darlings, please accept my deepest apologies for the radio silence - I promise I haven’t been abducted by Vecna or enrolled in a champagne appreciation course (though both are equally plausible). The truth is far simpler and far more fabulous: I was celebrating my birthday. And not just any birthday - the kind that leaves your liver writing strongly worded letters to your brain. Let us rewind to Friday, a.k.a. Day 93, a.k.a. “The Great London Adventure.” FRIDAY - Strange

A JABatha Christie Original: Thursday, Sponsored by Fatigue, Felines, and Fear of Coldwater. My darling Jabbers, we’ve made it to Day 92. Ninety-two whole days of jabs, naps, soup, and the occasional near-death experience with carpet vomit. And speaking of carpets - you’ll be delighted to know that there was no sick today! A small victory in the household, as I awoke to Ruby’s usual 5am Podcast of Chaos (working title: Purring, Shuffling, and Random Headbutts: The Feline Awak

The Scale Betrayal Chronicles My darling Jabbers, gather round. I have news. Grim, unjust, soul-crushing news. After a week of saintly behaviour - salads, water, not even sniffing a biscuit - I stepped on the scales this morning and… nothing. Not an ounce. Not a gram. Not even the faint suggestion of a wobble in the right direction. The number glared back at me, smug and unchanging, as if to say, “Cute try, darling. But no.” Now, I know, I know - “weight loss isn’t linear,” “

Ah, Wednesday. Bin day. The day of domestic glamour and olfactory challenges. I awoke to the gentle purr of Ruby - my sweet, spewy alarm clock - perched elegantly upon my chest. A vision of feline serenity… until I realised she had once again redecorated the carpet. And, for added flair, the freshly washed duvet. With undigested food. Truly, a multi-sensory experience. Poor baby. Although… between her nausea and my appetite swings, I’m beginning to suspect she’s been sneaking

My darling Jabbers, please forgive my radio silence these past four days - I assure you I have neither joined a cult nor eloped with a breadstick. It’s simply been… two lazy days and two crazy days. A true yin and yang of Mounjaro life. The scales of chaos and calm delicately balanced atop a pile of cat sick, mashed potatoes, and questionable decision-making. Let’s dive in. Saturday: The Day of the Sick Cat and Cancelled Zen The day began as all great tragedies do: with a noi

Slept like an absolute dream. Honestly, my bed deserves an award. A BAFTA, an MBE, something. It’s the only consistent relationship in my...

Ah, Day 85. A day that began with feline chaos, ended under a duvet, and somewhere in between involved a monumental personal victory, a...

The Case of the Disappearing Me (Down 25.8 lbs!) Twelve weeks. Three months. 84 days of needles, nausea, dry heaving, and cats sitting on...

Worked from home today, which sounds relaxing in theory - in reality, it was a phlegm-filled, retch-powered symphony of coughs, wheezes...

Apologies for the radio silence, my fellow Jabbers! I have been under the weather - and not in a poetic, “moody raincloud over a Paris...

Slept like an absolute baby, with the chunky feline butt of Ruby the Purring Machine firmly planted on my chest. Honestly, if there were...

Weigh-in day, baby! The alarm went off and before I even opened my eyes, I knew today was the day of reckoning. First, though, I had to...

The Plot Thickens (or Should I Say Thins?) Ladies, gents, and fellow carb detectives – welcome to Episode 77 of CSI: My Waistline. This...