Pain makes you unhappy. And I should know. For 15 years I have suffered from sciatica – the stabbing or sometimes stabbing pain in the buttock extends up my leg and makes walking or standing unbearable; lower back pain, a hangover from a broken vertebra I suffered a year ago; as well as arthritic fingers that make typing difficult (very bad for a writer, of course).

Not to mention swollen ankles and feet, caused in part by arthritis and the medication I take for my heart.

I had resigned myself to taking paracetamol twice a day with codeine on hand when the pain was very horrible. I also had gotten into the habit of turning down invitations to parties because I found it embarrassing to be the woman sitting in the corner like a wallflower.

Friends have accused me of being arrogant, of just sitting around and waiting for people to come to me. This is not the case.

But now I’m starting to hope that in the not-too-distant future I’ll feel confident enough to not only attend events, but to walk around and stand like everyone else.

After all, over the last six weeks I’ve been able to ditch codeine altogether, taking paracetamol purely as a comfort blanket rather than out of necessity.

As miraculous as it may seem, the sciatic pain is now completely gone. And the surprising remedy? Mounjaro, the new weight loss medication that I have been taking for two months.

As miraculous as it may seem, the sciatic pain is now completely gone. And the surprising remedy? Mounjaro, the new weight loss drug I’ve been taking for two months, writes JENNI MURRAY

I haven’t had any of the problems I had when I took Ozempic a year ago. I had hoped to lose the three stone I had gained, knowing that losing weight would take the strain off my joints.

But Ozempic caused constipation, horrible headaches and I was sick almost every day. I couldn’t continue.

I was reluctant to try another drug which would have to be injected once a week, which was not available on the NHS except for people with type 2 diabetes, and which would cost me a few hundred of books per month.

It was my physiotherapist, who knows my pain, who suggested Mounjaro to me. She had read research on the drug that uses a different GLP agonist than Ozempic and Wegovy. It’s tirzepatide as opposed to semaglutide.

She told me that it would reduce appetite like the others, but that Mounjaro also had an effect on inflammation in the body and therefore relieved pain. A number of his clients used it and reported that their pain had definitely reduced.

Intrigued, I asked the GP if it might be available on the NHS as a painkiller. She said, “No.”

It was surprisingly easy to acquire it without a prescription at the pharmacy. They say they have a team of doctors who assess who is suitable and who will benefit from their treatment. I filled out a form giving details of my height, age and weight and sent photos of myself and my scale. I listed the medications I take for my heart and pain and it seemed like none of them would react badly with Mounjaro.

I hope it was their concern for my well-being and not the £230 a month that caused the High Street pharmacy to approve me so quickly, but the first packet of pens, needles and a rubbish bin sharps arrived with admirable speed.

The first month, with the lowest dose of 2.5ml, definitely reduced my appetite. I stopped thinking about food all the time, cut out sugar completely and after four weeks I had lost half a stone.

But by far the most significant effect has been on my pain levels.

Within two weeks, the sciatic pain was gone. I couldn’t believe it and waited for it to come back. This is not the case.

The pain in my lower back started to ease, the pain in my fingers started to disappear, and my hands seemed less swollen. My ankles and feet returned to normal and I no longer hurt myself.

I now only take a few paracetamol for occasional back pain. It’s truly extraordinary.

For my second month, I increased my dose to 5 ml on the recommendation of my doctor. My appetite diminished a little more and some of the cravings I had for the chocolate brownies and beautiful bread that used to be regular fare started to disappear completely.

Only once did I give in to temptation. Five weeks after taking the drug, a friend recommended what he called “the best pizza place ever.” I ordered a garlic margherita.

It arrived and smelled wonderful. I opened the box with great anticipation, figuring that an occasional treat wouldn’t do me any harm. I managed to consume a quarter of it. It was delicious, but my body refused to let me eat more. What a waste.

My consumption of expensive cakes, pretty breads and Deliveroo takeaways is now a thing of the past. I started cooking again. Chicken soup with carrots and celery is one of my favorites and the only expensive food I buy is a steak that I fry once a week in butter and garlic with broccoli on the side.

I ate out twice in the two months I took my treatment and chose small, healthy meals, no chips or puddings. I think my friends are afraid I’m becoming boring, but I’m convinced that reducing my food bill easily makes up for the £230 I spend on medication each month.

Oh, and I’ve now lost another half a stone, which makes me a full stone lighter. But it’s not the weight loss that will convince me to continue taking Mounjaro. It’s pain relief.

I look forward to strengthening and straightening my hunched back and regaining the straight figure I was once so proud of. As the pain in my knees and hips begins to subside, I’m even tempted to put leashes on my dogs and walk them rather than depending on others to do it for me. Not yet, but soon, I hope.

I already feel a little like before. I can easily get up from my chair and walk around the house and garden. I can climb my own stairs without fear of the pain it would cause.

I didn’t expect Mounjaro to cheer me up so quickly, but it did. Next month’s dose will arrive this week and will ease my pain and misery even further. Losing weight will be a bonus. It’s the pain relief that is the most welcome surprise.

A thought for Margot’s mother-in-law

Hollywood star Margot Robbie opted for style and comfort when seen after giving birth

Here is Margot Robbie dressed neatly but beautifully in practical clothes to take her new baby in her pram. I wonder, however, how her mother-in-law, Mrs. Ackerley, of Surrey, is coping with the expected grooming in California. It must be a bit of a pain having to be a gorgeous movie star for the paparazzi when you’re there to be a helpful, sleeves-rolled-up, busy grandmother.

A judge, supporting Greater Manchester’s Robert Ogden in his unfair dismissal claim for swearing at a colleague, suggested that people in the North swear more than those in the South. Not true. But I’m tired of hearing the F-word in every TV show or movie I see. The word loses its power if it is just chatter.

It’s my Sunday evening sorted!

Mark Rylance as Thomas Cromwell and Damian Lewis as Henry VIII in the new Wolf Hall

The new series of Wolf Hall, based on the late Hilary Mantel’s novel The Mirror And The Light, starts this weekend, so that’s my Sunday evening set. I spoke to Hilary about how long it took her to finish the last episode. Was it, I asked, because she had fallen in love with Thomas Cromwell and couldn’t bear to lead him to execution? She paused, then said, “Mmm, maybe you’re right. »

There have been proposals for councils to ban fireworks at home and only allow public displays. It’s time for this to happen. It’s like the Blitz here in North London. Too many fireworks and too many terrified animals.

My Madge is back on her feet…

Jenni’s beloved companion, Madge the Chihuahua, is recovering from treatment for cataracts.

Madge, my 10-year-old chihuahua and I are always busy morning, noon and evening administering drops in his eyes, now free of cataracts.

She moves effortlessly and her plastic collar comes off on Sunday. The veterinary ophthalmologist said she was making great progress. “She will only have a long view,” he added. “If she had to have glasses, she would need strong lenses – 59 and up.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I don’t think she’ll be embarrassed about not knowing how to read.”