The soaring popularity of weight-loss and diabetes drugs like Ozempic has been accompanied by a wave of social media success stories. But a darker, less-publicised narrative is emerging, revealing severe and sometimes permanent side effects that patients say they were never warned about.
A Lifeline with Unforeseen Consequences
In 2018, Emily, a 33-year-old teacher from Toronto, Canada, was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. Weighing 280 pounds (20 stone) and struggling with joint pain, she feared following her uncle's path of diabetic complications. Her doctor presented Ozempic, a once-weekly injection, as a game-changer for blood sugar management and potential weight loss. Seeing it as a lifeline, Emily began treatment without hesitation.
The side effects, however, struck almost immediately. Her doctor had not mentioned them. She experienced frequent vomiting and debilitating headaches, especially after her dose was increased to 0.5 milligrams as per manufacturer Novo Nordisk's guidelines. Despite this, she persevered because her blood sugar levels normalised and she lost 10 pounds in the first weeks.
The Descent into Severe Illness
For 18 months, Emily managed the nausea, even losing 80 pounds. Then, new symptoms emerged: foul-smelling sulphur burps and increased bloating. Embarrassed, she considered stopping the drug, but her doctor advised against it, citing research that suggested staying on Ozempic was necessary to maintain benefits.
The situation deteriorated drastically. Two years in, vomiting began occurring during her workday. She was eventually hospitalised in September 2022 with extreme dehydration after vomiting for 30 hours straight. Doctors diagnosed her with cyclical vomiting syndrome, yet repeatedly failed to connect her condition to Ozempic. She was prescribed anti-nausea drugs and even haloperidol, an antipsychotic.
Her weight plummeted a further 50 pounds to 150 pounds, forcing her to take a leave of absence from work. A new gastroenterologist finally suspected a link to the medication. Tests revealed she had developed gastroparesis, or stomach paralysis, with her digestive system moving food extremely slowly. By early 2023, she was vomiting up to 200 times a week and her weight fell to 130 pounds.
A Permanent New Reality
Further tests confirmed the severe, likely irreversible damage to her digestive system. Her doctor gave her a 99 per cent chance of never recovering. Emily's life has been fundamentally altered: she cannot work, struggles to eat, and lives in social isolation, grieving her healthy past self.
She now runs a support group for around 500 people who developed gastroparesis after taking Ozempic or similar GLP-1 drugs. She reflects on society's obsession with weight, questioning what was so wrong with her former body that functioned and made her happy.
This case, detailed in Aimee Donnellan's book 'Off the Scales: The Inside Story of Ozempic and the Race to Cure Obesity', highlights a critical issue. The rapid rollout of GLP-1 drugs represents an unprecedented healthcare experiment, where side effects become known only after widespread public use. Furthermore, drugs like Wegovy, Zepbound and Mounjaro use these compounds at higher doses not previously tested over long periods.
While doctors are now adapting—recommending weight training, higher protein intake, and slower dose increases—the learning curve has been steep and paid for by patients like Emily. Her story underscores the complex trade-offs and hidden risks behind the headlines of a modern medical 'miracle'.
