There are things I tend to find out about early, like the latest top 40 hip-hop hits. And then there are things that I’m slower to pick up on, like children’s fantasy novels. Case in point, my experience with Harry Potter: I *just* read the 6th and 7th books last week on vacation — and now I’ve got all the curses and charms floating through my head. Last night I was asking my husband where he put the neosporin, and wishing I could cast an “Accio!” charm to make it leap into my hand. Alas, I am not a wizard, and my wound continues to fester.
But anyway, I bring this up in the context of Symlin — because when you take symlin, as I’ve been doing now for nearly three weeks, you start having a very different relationship with food. Granted, for the past few days my relationship has been one of nausea, where if I look at food after I eat it I sort of want to hurl. But previously I’d just been experiencing a weird sense of satiety, an ability to look right in the face of a freshly baked cookie and say, “You know what? I think I’ll pass” — with no feeling of self denial at all.
And I got to thinking that symlin’s effect on appetite is almost like a spell — you jab yourself with a magic wand (or, rather, needle) and then all of a sudden, no appetite. Gone. Eating decisions are suddenly no longer about self control.
I’m feeling a little less romantic about my symlin this week, given its tendency to make me feel barfy — but I’m still amazed at how one simple shot can completely change your attitude toward food, with no will power required. It’s like I’m Hermione.
Now, about that neosporin. . . .