Archives for August 5, 2024

Nittany Turkey back atcha with another week of reporting Mounjaro progress, served alongside a 15 mg dose of opinionated diatribe. You know what they say about opinions? Well, I’ve gotta have one, and this is my platform for sharing it.

This is NOT a commercialized platform in any way, shape, or form. I don’t display ads or get click-through revenue. If I recommend products I use, it is because I use them and like them. Similarly, I do not offer medical advice, just a recap of my own experiences with Mounjaro for the treatment of Type 2 Diabetes.

I also write about Zepbound and compounded tirzepatide, which are all the same drug as Mounjaro. They are merely packaged differently. Mounjaro and Zepbound, both products of Eli Lilly & Co., are branded versions of tirzepatide. Mounjaro is approved for Type 2 Diabetes, while Zepbound is approved for weight loss. I have written lots about the social media influenced pop culture surrounding these drugs, fueled by direct-to-consumer advertising by big pharma and our societal penchant for hopping blindly onto the latest fad in can’t-fail weight loss treatments.

Today, I’ll recap my progress on Mounjaro therapy, which is neither a “journey” nor an “adventure”, I’ll introduce the concept of an exit strategy, and then I’ll serve up another editorial.

My Progress on Mounjaro

Having taken Mounjaro at the 2.5 mg loading dose for nine weeks, my progress stalled in both glucose and weight. Typically, you start on 2.5 and move up to 5 mg after the first four weeks. I, being an old fart who is wary about dangerous side-effects because of my long laundry list of comorbidities, stuck with the 2.5 dose for twice the typical time. While my numbers tell a subtle story of stalled progress, one thing stuck out like a sore thumb. The appetite suppression associated with Mounjaro evaporated.

Last Sunday night, Jenny and I went out to dinner for our anniversary. My unsuppressed appetite wanted everything on the menu, but I settled on a Caesar Salad, 14-ounce ribeye, asparagus drizzled with a balsamic reduction, and whatever the hell “smashed potatoes” are. I cleaned my plate like my mother always told me I should, which is why I got so fat in the first place. Thinking back to my first week on Mounjaro, I could not finish restaurant meals. So, I felt that this, coupled with the numbers, signaled time to up the dose.

My doctor agreed and I am proceeding cautiously, on the lookout for side-effects or anything unusual. I will certainly report anything out of the ordinary.

The numbers, already, Turkey!

OK, OK… who’s counting, already! Here you are with my progress for the week. Average blood glucose increased from 100 to 101, which still ain’t bad. Morning “dawn effect” readings averaged 101 as well. Weight dropped by one pound, which was due to a midweek lack of appetite caused by some bad heartburn. (On the whole, I blame my gigantic anniversary dinner transgression while Jenny focuses on the “smashed potatoes”). My blood pressure is trending nicely downward due to weight loss, averaging 125/71.

An encouraging sign is that this morning’s glucose reading was 89, the first sub-90 wake-up reading I can recall. Could be a coincidence, or it might be related to my having injected the first 5 mg dose of Mounjaro last night. So, let’s see where this 5 mg dose takes me. Thus far, I have experienced no noticeable side-effects. I’ll continue to report on my progress.

My Mounjaro Treatment Philosophy

I don’t want to be on Mounjaro for the rest of my life. It still amounts to injecting a foreign substance with many known and unknown side-effects into a well-aged body — a substantial risk for an old fart. No doubt, the big fooda/big pharma/big doctra/big governmenta conspiracy would love to view me as a guaranteed revenue stream, but I hope to avoid going down that rabbit hole. Thus, as I approach my goals, I intend to develop an exit plan.

That’s a tricky situation, because of the potential for reversing any positive accomplishments. I need some intelligent guidance (hint: it won’t come from social media) while I develop the plan. My doctor will be of limited value, because he is a member of the “prescribe, prescribe, prescribe” culture of this country’s current medical milieu. Like most modern docs, he is not comfortable with patient-driven care, and while I will accept input from him, I will make the decisions.

In the end, one way or another, I die. Between now and then, I will endeavor to do what is necessary to make life for me and those around me more enjoyable. One immense benefit of the Mounjaro, which seems to baffle my doctor but has been reported in studies, is a reduction in generalized inflammation. This could be a secondary effect, but it has been an obvious feature from the start of my therapy. It has enabled me to increase exercise, have more energy, and be less pissed off all the time. My pain levels are much lower now.

So, I will be gathering information from credible sources and working on the exit plan. I would like to be subjecting myself to the foreign intruder for no more than a total of fifteen to sixteen months, an arbitrary period based on what I think I can accomplish. Of course, at my age, shit happens, which will surely necessitate adjustments.

Mounjaro/Zepbound Shortages Lifted

Eli Lilly & Co. CEO David Ricks fired a shot across the bow of compounding pharmacies that dispense generic tirzepatide. Last Thursday in an interview with Bloomberg. Ricks declared that the shortages that enabled the compounders to legally sell the drug would soon be over. Once Mounjaro and Zepbound come off the FDA’s shortage list, US 503b compounding pharmacies can no longer legally sell the drug under the shortage exemption. They will have a sixty-day grace period to fill existing orders.

So sure enough, on Friday, the FDA shortage list reflected that both Mounjaro and Zepbound 10 mg and 15 mg doses, which previously had shown up as being in short supply, no longer had that designation.

This is the latest salvo from Lilly against those opportunists who are horning in on their territory. These operations exploit the massive, multi-billion-dollar weight-loss market for profit, benefiting from Lilly’s gigantic expenditure. Lilly invents a drug, ramps up manufacturing, develops a huge market through advertising, incurs huge development costs, and spends megabucks securing FDA approval, lobbying congressmen, and operating like big, bad, evil Big Pharma. Then, the vultures of telehealth operations and their compounding pharmacy partners swoop in to exploit the FDA loophole and as many desperate fat people as they can sign up.

Big Bad Pharma Wants to Protect Its Mounjaro Turf

I fully understand Eli Lilly wanting to protect its turf, and I have no problem with it. Meanwhile, vloggers are crying in their beer, which, by the way, some think they can drink while losing those twenty unwanted pounds. Their channels for cheap, compounded tirzepatide might be shut down soon. Then, my oh my, what will they do?

No legitimate doctor is going to prescribe a drug with potentially life-threatening adverse effects for cosmetic weight loss. (Along those lines, I recently saw one mid-twenties clown on TikTok saying how he was using compounded tirzepatide to get down to 155 lbs from 176; another on YouTube who I’ve mentioned in previous columns, was using it to reduce his body fat from 10% to 5%!). Well, boo-hoo! I hope Lilly succeeds in driving the cosmetic weight-loss industry back to herbal remedies, crash diets and other faddish pseudo-solutions.

The market fears that they and similar outfits might need to go back to concentrating on boner pills.

—TNT

Stock prices for Hims & Hers Health, Inc., one of the bigger suppliers of compounded tirzepatide along with generic Viagra with market cap of $3.78 billion, fell 16% in the wake of the Ricks interview. The market fears that they and similar outfits might need to go back to concentrating on boner pills. As of the publication time of this article, HIMS (NYSE) is trading about as low as $15.87, down from the August 1 high of $22.02, a 28% dive out the window.

Social Media Up in Arms

Social media wonks are outraged, displaying all the spoiled attributes of the entitlement society. Some of the more activist YouTubers exhibit signs of a messianic complex. Their self-appointed role as our savior impels them to think they can influence this multi-billion-dollar market by calling for a grass-roots effort to lobby the FDA and “prove” that shortages exist. But this is big-boy stuff, not influencer bullshit. They’re up against big pharma and big bucks. Will David take down Goliath? You answer that question.

And for meeker colleagues, their “journeys” and “adventures” are about to blow up, with predictable consequences. The wealthier ones will always be able to get their drug candy, so no effect there. The ones who are merely solvent and who have feathered their nest with YouTube revenues and referral fees from opportunistic telehealth providers will find either foreign or black-market channels for the fixes they seek. Then, they will tell their peers how to do it, further stoking their video revenue machine. They might get even more kickbacks that way, too. However, a few who are truly in need — and I don’t mean for cosmetic weight loss — will suffer, and I feel bad for them. I’m talking about those who are morbidly obese, with BMI northward of 40 and A1c to match.

Think of it this way. If we can shake the frivolous, cosmetic users out of the system, will there still be shortages? The unprecedented demand for the latest fad in weight loss magic bullets, GLP-1 agonists, is caused by a veritable plethora of relatively healthy yo-yo dieters hopping on the bandwagon of the latest fad. “But, but, dieting never worked for me!” Yeah, that’s the bullshit line. Think of it this way: For the $500 to $1,200 per month they are paying for a magical cure, they could have a gym membership, a personal trainer, and a regular appointment with a cognitive behavioral counselor. Moreover, they would have enough scratch left over for a healthy food budget. They could eat healthily while incurring no adverse drug effects.

But, noooooooooooo, they want magic.

Influencer, influence thyself!

What I hope will now dry up is the proliferation of YouTube vlogs proselytizing tirzepatide, especially the sponsored ones. I imagine that they’ll flail around for a while before the eventual shake-out. The worst are the ones offering dangerous advice on how to split doses, increase dosing frequency, and eat whatever you want. They’ll help you find a compounding pharmacy with a teledoc who will rubber-stamp your Mounjaro requisition, with referral fees flowing back to them. They’ll evaporate along with the compounded drugs they push. Finally, I sure as hell do not need any more middle-aged women man-splaining how these drugs work, middle-aged men with backward baseball caps calling me “you guys” while reporting the recycled incretin news of the day, or other so-called “influencers” attempting to advise me with anecdotal crap they heard from other influencers. Influence THIS!

Coming Soon: Over-the-Counter Mounjaro!

Over-the-counter Mounjaro is not so far-fetched! These drugs might well be offered over-the-counter in the future, because they are just about that freely distributed now. After all, you go to an integrated telehealth facility with a staff doc who doesn’t know you from Adam, you talk with a nurse or some other extender, and they give you your drugs — for a fee. Given our instant gratification society and our irresponsible lawmakers, coupled with the greed of big pharma and the conspiratorial complicity of a food industry that is poisoning us, why bother with perfunctory consultations and rubber-stamped prescriptions? Just drop the pretenses, cut out the middle-man and go OTC! Get your private-label CVS-branded Mounjaro today!

After all, how many states legalized recreational marijuana? How far are we from legalizing recreational Mounjaro? Follow the money.

That will do it for another fun weekly rant. Thanks for making this non-influencer feel that his words are being read. Whether you agree or disagree, about the novel weight-loss drug market, I hope I gave you some food for thought. I further hope that reports of my progress have offered encouragement to other Type 2 diabetics who seek solutions.

I’ll be back next week with more progress reports and more drivel.