perimenopause | Jabathachristie

Day 101 & 102: The Weekend Extravaganza

(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

7 hours ago6 min read

Day 100: Vomit, Victory & Very Questionable Life Choices - 100 days jabbed, bloated, and still standing (barely).

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

4 days ago4 min read

Day 99: The Day I Drove Through a Lake, Ate a Croissant, and Questioned My Life Choices

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

4 days ago4 min read

Day 98: Smurfs, Spreadsheets & Serial Killers

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

4 days ago3 min read

Day 96: The Great Vomit Uprising (a.k.a. The Monday That Never Slept)

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

Oct 203 min read

Day 93-95: The Birthday Trilogy (feat. Champagne, Stranger Things, and Mild Regret)

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

Oct 195 min read

Day 92: The Calm Before the Demogorgon

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

Oct 164 min read

Week 13 Weigh-in - dose 7.5mg

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,” “

Oct 162 min read

Day 91: Of Sick Cats, Sourdoughs, and Suspicious Aligners

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

Oct 163 min read

Day 87-90: Two Lazy, Two Crazy

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

Oct 156 min read