I’ve Been Burping Through Meetings (and other side effects) for 2 Years on Zepbound (And I Regret Nothing)

The Symphony of Unexpected Sounds

Let me paint you a picture of my current reality. Last week, during what should have been a serene fitness center class, my digestive system decided to provide an impromptu percussion solo. The instructor paused mid-stretch, twenty pairs of eyes turned toward me, and I had two choices: crawl under my mat in mortification or embrace the moment. I chose the latter, offering a sheepish grin and a whispered apology that somehow made everyone chuckle.

These gastric serenades have become my signature move, appearing at board meetings, family dinners, and nice restaurant dinners, with the timing of a seasoned comedian. The sounds are deep, resonant, and occasionally carry notes that would make a sulfur spring jealous. Yet instead of feeling embarrassed, I have learned to view them as proof that my medication continues working its magic inside my system.

My friends have started placing bets on when the next performance will occur. My sister keeps a mental scorecard during holiday gatherings. My dog has learned to anticipate the sounds and no longer jumps in surprise. We have all adapted to this new normal, and honestly, our family dinners have never been more entertaining.

When Your Stomach Becomes a Mystery Novel

Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of my Zepbound journey involves the complete reimagining of my relationship with hunger. Before starting this medication, my appetite followed a predictable script: wake up hungry, eat breakfast, feel hungry again in three hours, repeat until bedtime. Simple, reliable, boring.

Now, my hunger operates like a plot twist in a psychological thriller. Some mornings, I wake up and completely forget that food exists until my phone reminds me it is already afternoon. Other days, I consume half an apple and feel as satisfied as if I had just finished Thanksgiving dinner. My stomach has become an unreliable narrator in the story of my daily nutrition.

This unpredictability initially frustrated me. I would find myself standing in front of the refrigerator at 2 PM, trying to remember if I had eaten anything that day. I started setting phone alarms titled “Remember food exists” and keeping emergency snacks in my desk drawer like some sort of nutritional prepper.

However, this forced unpredictability taught me something valuable about genuine hunger versus habitual eating. Before Zepbound, I ate because the clock suggested it was mealtime, because I felt bored, or because something smelled appealing. Now, I eat when my body actually requests fuel, creating a more authentic dialogue between my physical needs and my food choices.

Adventures in Digestive Geography

Two years into this journey, I have become an expert in bathroom logistics across three states and countless public venues. I can tell you which gas stations have the cleanest facilities along the Interstate, which restaurants keep their restrooms well-stocked, and which coffee shops you should avoid after 2 PM if you value personal comfort.

My digestive system operates on what I can only describe as a seasonal schedule. Spring brings weeks of concerning constipation that require strategic planning and fiber supplementation. Summer introduces sudden moments of urgency that transform me into an Olympic sprinter racing toward the nearest facilities. Fall and winter seem to rotate between these extremes with the randomness of a weather pattern.

I have developed contingency plans for every scenario. My car contains an emergency kit worthy of a wilderness expedition. I scout bathroom locations upon entering any new building with the focus of a military strategist. My family and friends learned to interpret my subtle hand signals that indicate immediate tactical retreat is necessary.

Yet these bathroom adventures have given me stories that entertain friends for hours. I have bonded with fellow GLP-1 users over shared experiences in pharmacy aisles while comparing fiber supplement brands. We exchange knowing glances in public restrooms and offer each other encouraging nods that say “we understand the struggle.”

The Return of an Old Acquaintance

Nausea visits me like that college friend who randomly shows up at your door after months of silence. Not constantly, not predictably, but just often enough to keep me on my toes. Last month, it appeared while I was contemplating a second slice of pizza, gently suggesting that perhaps one piece was sufficient for this particular evening.

These waves of queasiness have become my internal quality control system. They rarely arrive when I am eating something nutritious and appropriate for my body. Instead, they tend to manifest when I am considering food choices that my pre-medication self would have made without hesitation. The nausea serves as a gentle reminder that my body has new standards and expectations.

Rather than viewing these moments as inconvenient interruptions, I have learned to appreciate them as helpful guidance from my newly calibrated internal compass. My body has become more discerning, more aware, and more willing to communicate its preferences clearly.

The Perpetual Winter Experience

Nobody mentioned that losing significant weight would transform me into someone who requires hoodies in July. My internal thermostat apparently reset itself somewhere along this journey, leaving me perpetually chilly in situations that once felt comfortable. My hands have become ice cubes that I must warn people about before handshakes or hugs.

I now keeps extra blankets strategically placed throughout the house for my benefit. I have invested in a collection of fingerless gloves for year-round computer work. My car seat heaters run constantly, even during summer months, much to the confusion of passengers who step into what feels like a mobile sauna.

This constant coolness initially annoyed me, but I have come to view it as a badge of honor. Each shiver represents a milestone in my health journey. Every additional layer of clothing symbolizes the layers of health complications I have successfully shed. I would rather bundle up in blankets than return to the joint pain, fatigue, and medical concerns that once defined my daily experience.

The Mathematics of Trade-Offs

When I step back and examine the complete equation of my Zepbound experience, the numbers tell a compelling story. Yes, I still produce sound effects that could rival a construction site. My hunger cues operate on their own mysterious schedule. My digestive system keeps me guessing daily. I carry enough cold weather gear to outfit an Arctic expedition.

However, the benefits column of this equation contains items that transform my entire existence. My blood pressure readings now fall within normal ranges for the first time in years. My cholesterol numbers have impressed doctors who previously expressed concern about my cardiovascular future. My energy levels allow me to participate in activities that once left me exhausted before I began.

Most importantly, I wake up each morning in a body that feels like mine again. Not the body I struggled against for years, fighting cravings and losing battles with willpower. Not the body that ached with inflammation and fatigue. This body responds when I ask it to move, supports me through long days, and partners with me rather than working against me.

Embracing the Imperfect Perfect

The truth about long-term GLP-1 use is that it requires accepting a new version of normal. This normal includes unexpected sounds, bathroom reconnaissance missions, and enough winter clothing to supply a small arctic expedition. It means learning to laugh at situations that would have mortified me two years ago and finding humor in the daily adventures my digestive system provides.

These side effects have not stolen my quality of life. Instead, they have given me a different kind of life, one where I appreciate small victories and find comedy in unexpected places. They have connected me with a community of people who understand the unique challenges and victories of this journey.

I would choose this path again without hesitation because the alternative was a slow decline into increasingly serious health complications. The side effects are not the enemy in this story. They are simply the supporting characters in a much larger narrative about reclaiming health, discovering resilience, and learning that perfection is less important than progress.

Every burp, every bathroom dash, and every chilly moment reminds me of how far I have traveled on this journey. They are not obstacles to overcome but rather companions on a path toward better health. And honestly, life is never boring when your digestive system has such a robust sense of humor.