Type 2 Diabetes? Whatever.

Sure, it is annoying, but have you ever tried water skiing while talking to a beaver?

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You want to know about me? Really? Nah, you don’t.

  • Meal replacement vegetable soup. Why? Just, why?

    It happened. The vegetable meal replacement was pulled out the box last night and after the debacle trying to get the chicken one to turn into a paste, I used a smaller just to do the initial powder to 50ml hot water mixing. It went…better.

    But not much better.

    Yes I got the paste looking very pastey. And then added the rest of the water and gave it a good old mix. It looked good. Like a mug of sorry.

    Nope. Still lumps. It was better than the first attempt, but I might need to go buy a little hand mixer as those chewy lumps are as wanted as a swift kick in the joy department. Sure, there is something for everyone. This, is not for me. I am a lover, not a kick receiver.

    Taste. Well, this is the first one which on the ingredients actually lists things. Carrots. Leaks. Onion. Spices. Pyridoxine Hydrochloride. All my favourites.

    But what did it taste like? Well, it was a thick gloopy cup of. It was a thick gloopy cup.

    Smell? Yes. Yes it did. Being that I am in this position because I avoid vegetables like I avoid being ran over by a car, I can’t really tell you if it is close. Maybe? Maybe not?

    Fortunately, I have just the one taste test left (mango shake) before the world falls apart next Thursday (11th September) when it starts for good and I can’t sneak real food. This weekend will be all the foods. ALL. THE. TIME.

    Next week, a grown man will cry. Probably stamp his feet. Bay at the moon.

    Be more of an insufferable dick than normal.

    Yay!

  • Next taste test. Strawberry. Feeling a little fruity?

    So close to the end of the taste tests. Just this and Mango to go.

    And then decide which 2 I want to drink for the next 3 months. Three. 3. Months. Three months.

    On the plus side, I will have finished the initial course just in time for Christmas. The time for excess sweets, food, drink. You know, “The Christmas way”.

    So what do we think about strawberry flavoured meal replacement shakes? Well, not too shabby at all. It was alllllriiiight. Would I want to drink it every day? Do I want to drink any of these every day? Probably not. But there was a good sweetness to it and I have that “I WANT SWEET THINGS” thing going on which kind of put me in this place in the first place. So that would help. It was tastier than I expected.

    Did it taste like strawberry? Hell no.

    What did it taste like then? It is hard to explain. Imagine if Mummy strawberry cheated with a big strong cucamelon from a travelling circus. The baby, a Strawcamelon, went into business making strawberry flavoured drinks which tastes like strawberries, which in itself is pretty messed up, and this is what it thinks it tastes like.

    Have I sold it to you yet?

    Also, today I woke up with my stomach telling me “I am SO DONE with this”. I haven’t even started the course yet. I am just doing a couple of days trying out the shakes and soups. Epic.

  • Banana flavour. Not just for kids milkshakes.

    OK. So. Banana. It smells like banana.

    By smells like banana, I mean that banana smell everything which is “banana flavoured” but has no trace of banana in smells like. And we all know that one. Don’t lie, even you do.

    After the vanilla and latte flavour taste test yesterday, I was concerned. But today, chocolate and banana have upped the game a little.

    Are they tasty? Of course not. Are they palatable? I will drink them. And then have a glass of water. Are they filling? Well, if I want to fill a 200ml container, yes. They will fill it well.

    I will be honest, I finished this shake quickly. Partly because I just got back from a walk and I was thirsty, but also because it really isn’t that bad.

    I still want a sandwich. With chicken. And bacon. On soft white bread. With a beer on the side. And a film I don’t fall asleep watching on the TV. Or a spoonful of peanut butter where I walk around with it like Brad Pitt in Meet Joe Black. Or to be slim and wealthy.

    Just recently, I can’t even do the film part.

    Mango shake up tomorrow. And vegetable soup up tonight. The soup is the first one to list actual ingredients I understand.

    I don’t like vegetables.

  • Taste Test. This time it is chocolate.

    Yep, we got to the chocolate milkshake. It is time. Surely this one will be good.

    So far there were taste tests on the Vanilla and Latte flavours. The vanilla tasted…well, go read the post. And the latte tasted more like the vanilla.

    “Chocolate will be different” I told myself as I emptied the powder into the mixer.

    More vigorous shaking.

    OK. Let’s see.

    Hmmm, you know, it is not that bad. Does it taste like the vanilla one? Nope. Does it taste like the latte one? Nope. Does it taste like chocolate? Nope.

    Sure, they aren’t going to be melting a Cadbury dairy milk bar (for non-UK, just change Cadbury dairy milk for your favourite chocolate bar) and shipping it to me as powder. And UK chocolate tastes different to US chocolate which tastes different to Swiss chocolate which tastes different to Belgium chocolate. Maybe this is chocolate from a secret country. North Korea?

    I think that when I start this for good next week I will be fine for a few days before mentally going downhill rapidly as I spiral into a need for real food and validation.

    But it is palatable. Probably my favourite so far.

    The bar was low.

  • Chicken soup for the soul. Or, not.

    Here we go. The “Main meal” option. Soup. Delivered in powder form.

    “Mix 50ml of hot water with the powder and mix until a paste”. I tried. I really tried. What I was left with after my mixing attempt was more like a lumpy paste I was going to use to do some wallpapering. While blind. And being attacked by squirrels.

    I then added the other 150ml of water and mixed like there was nothing left to live for. I mixed and mixed and watched as the water turned more “soupy”. I got this! Except no, I really didn’t.

    The plus side: With all these replacements, you never get to chew anything you eat so the less-than-tasty lumps I was spooning out got to be chewed. But that plus needs to go because it was really not good and a more watery soup would be better.

    The not quite plus side: 250ml of soup. For the main meal.

    The taste? Sure, I can tell you about that. It was chicken. If that chicken had spent its life on antidepressants. I mean, you knew it was sort of chicken flavoured.

    Does it have chicken in it? No. It has chicken stock. That is the flavour. The rest of the ingredients I can’t pronounce but are probably things my body needs. I particularly like how it is “weird name (vitamin whatever), weird name (vitamin whatever), rinse, repeat…..black pepper”.

    Before I had it I wasn’t that hungry. After I had it I was hungry. I drank a pint of water, went to bed and spoke to my Teddy bear Collective (that is their name. They came up with it because they wanted to sound “edgy”) about it. They had a general consensus that it will get easier once I forget how tasty other foods are. And to man up and remember that there is no need to have a Teddy bear Collective because I am a grown man.

    What do they know? The stuffed little….

  • Next up. Latte flavour. Because they don’t have a beer option.

    This round, the contender to face me is Latte Flavour. Ridiculous stage name, but I guess everybody has a backstory.

    I should state that I had the vanilla one this morning and this one is lunch. I should also state that I am going to eat real food tonight as I haven’t even started the plan yet, this is just the taste test “So I can see which tasty flavours to order for the next 3 months”. Awesome.

    Like before. There was much vigorous wrist action to help get rid of the lumps and to make this palatable.

    Sniff test:

    Well. It sort of smells the same as the vanilla one with a slight coffee smell permeating through to my nostrils like some naughty hitchhiker. You know it is there, but you haven’t opened the back of the lorry to confirm for real.

    Taste test:

    Imagine the vanilla one. But a little different. More of a…how can I put this…tang. Like a coffee tang but not. Maybe with time I will find the nespresso pods I drink are actually the garbage and this is first rate. Maybe I won’t. I have no other choice but to find out.

    In fairness to the breakfast one, while after drinking it I wanted both toast and the destruction of the world, it did actually keep me more satiated after giving it time to sit in my stomach and the receptors to say “Look. If I promise to not make you feel hungry, will you not send that my way again?”. I have some bad news for the receptors. By “some bad news” I mean “You are not going to like this one bit. This is life kiddo”.

    Am I slim yet? Oh, I should probably mention that part. I need to lose….oh god, you are all from all over the place. Hold on, let me get my browser to give me all the goods on translations.

    4 stone 7 pounds

    63 pounds

    28.5763 Kilograms

    28 dwarf rabbits

    7 domestic house cats

    Maybe I could buy a dwarf rabbit for each Kg I lose. That way I will have a small (literally and figuratively speaking) army by the end of this.

  • OK. Taste time. Vanilla. Just like me.

    You can’t go wrong with vanilla can you? Plain, normal, “just one of us”.

    Well, in this case, it went like this.

    I took the new trusty shaker out. Washed it. Looked at it. Hoped that 200ml of water was going to fill it.

    Exclusive: It didn’t. Because it holds 600ml. So breakfast just turned into a shot glass of milkshake.

    I put the water in. I put the powder in. I lobbed in the little mixer ball.

    Being a man, the next part was rather easy as many of us have practiced our entire lives.

    I grabbed it and gave it some damn good wrist action. I used vigor only used for…..anyway. I digress.

    There is now a creamy white liquid where the powder and water once stood from the vigorous wrist action. OK, seems I didn’t digress. I should get this back on track.

    Sniff test:

    A full body with tones of vanilla and wanting.

    Taste test:

    Yeah OK, it is sort of vanilla. I mean, this is subjective isn’t it. What does vanilla actually taste like? Cheap vs expensive ice cream are vastly different. Vanilla with chocolate tastes different. Vanilla flavouring in a cake tastes nothing like it. But my god. CAKE! Maybe this milkshake is bang on point? No idea. Do you have any ideas? I can live with the taste and it is a nice texture. It isn’t peanut butter or marmite on toast. My stomach doesn’t feel like I have had food.

    It is going to be a long day. But I am allowed black coffee which hey, that can inhibit appetite. Right? RIGHT?

    Is it lunchtime yet?

  • So just how did we get here?

    A long time ago (about 2 years) in a car, I pushed on a mucous cyst on the base just under my fingernail. It had been there for ages. How long? Look, the details don’t matter. But what does matter is that it had gone from just sort of being there, doing its thing. To being a little squishier than before.

    We both know what that means.

    Yep. I played with it. Because, well, I could. So I did.

    And then it burst. Liquid came rushing out like a pee you have held in for 4 hours and now it is time to set it free. “Wonderful. I wonder if that will now go away” I thought to myself. Not knowing what was about to happen next.

    I could leave this here, but I feel like you want to know.

    Well. What happened next was nothing for 24 hours. And then, my finger started to hurt. Then it got a bit red. And a bit swollen. The whole finger. Bend it? No chance. Squeeze nutcrackers on it? Hell no. Flick the love spuds of a lion with it? Of course not. You never do that.

    I started taking some pain killers. Because it’ll go away on it’s own. Right? It’ll just go away? With pain killers?

    It didn’t.

    A few days later I went to a pharmacy about some stronger drugs. “You may want to go to the hospital”. “Do they have better drugs?” “That is infected”.

    Dammit.

    So to the hospital I went. While there, I got asked questions. “Age?” 40 something “Weight?” Ha! Nice try. “When did it start?” Yes, it did! “Are you diabetic?” “Not according to my last blood test”

    Shortly after, I had a bit of a moment. One of those “Hey! I am just going to collapse over here, ignore me”. They all panic. I have a huge sweat appear. They pin prick my finger (not that one fortunately) and do a check. “You are diabetic”. “Who. the. WHAT. now?”

    I won’t go into the bit where they operate twice on my finger, the first time ripping my fingernail off, cutting down my finger and sucking the infection out.

    OK maybe I just told you and now you know. Anyway, they did that twice. Not the nail part, it just doesn’t grow back that quickkly.

    And I was sent on my merry way home a few days later with some epic drugs. Thanks UK NHS!

    At that point, I was in the Diabetes system. Nurses fawned over me. Dr’s wanted to get to know me. I ate metformin for breakfast and dinner. Life stresses (we aint going into them, you would need therapy afterwards) caused high blood pressure. My cholesterol level got higher. More drugs!

    2 years later, I had my checkup. “Your HBA1C is very high. We need to do something about it”.

    Crap. “Rightio skipper, what are the choices?”

    “You have 3. The first is more drugs. They make you pee a lot.” “No thanks”

    “The second is you go away and completely change your diet on your own” “Hmm. OK. But, I live alone. This might be fun. I like a challenge. What is the third?”

    “The third is that you go on a total meal replacement (TMR) for 36 weeks. The first 12 are completely removing all food and do a rapid weight loss meal plan. The second 12 weeks are adding small amounts of food in. The final 12 weeks are checking if you can continue with the diet introduced in the second 12 weeks” “So you could have put that into the phrase – Total hell on earth – and I would have understood.” “yes.” “Fine. Lets do that.”

    And here we are.

    Today, the “starter pack” arrived. I got a free shaker! That is where the excitement ended. In the pack are:

    6 shakes to try. Chocolate (I bet it aint!), Strawberry, Banana, Vanilla, Mango, Latte. Yu…..m.

    2 soups to try. Chicken and Vegetable.

    How utterly exciting.

    I will be starting the main course on the 9th September, but will be trying these from tomorrow for a couple of days, just to see what happens. And then this weekend I am eating everything possible.

    Like a last meal.

    Before I enter purgatory.

  • Oh. Hi. What ya doin’?

    So here we have it. I haven’t written a site for years. By years, I mean years. Sorry, I probably didn’t need to explain that years bit to you, but you see, the first post on a site is meant to make people return for more. I can already tell that you read that years bit and thought “Yeah, going to need to keep up with this site, he sounds great. The explanation of the years bit was first class.”

    So what do we have here? Well. Some of us incredibly handsome blokes are what is referred to in medical terms as “A bit fat. A bit unhealthy. A bit unfit. A bit like they need to go on a total meal replacement through OVIVA. That, dear reader, is why this site exists. On September 9th, I will be going from “YEAH! CRISPS! CHIPS! BEER! BURGERS!” to “Another lonely day without you dear food. Just another milkshake and soup for me. For 12 weeks. 12.” And it doesn’t end there. After 12 weeks, they are going to say “Yeah, all good. Except, you need to stay on it and slowly introduce regular foods again”.

    Regular foods. REGULAR. FOODS. You know what that means? I tell you what it won’t mean. It won’t mean YEAH! CRISPS! CHIPS! BEER! BURGERS!”. It’ll mean “You look like a guy who wants greek yoghurt and some berries”.

    So what is this site about? Yeah, this is to tell you what a mess it is going to be. It’ll be raw. It’ll be honest. If you don’t understand British sarcasm and cynicism, it’ll be likely offending. Because I am going to be going from “YEAH! CALORIES!” to “850 calories a day. For 12 weeks. With no snacks”. I will also probably say how much I hate people who eat food I like. I don’t hate them. Well, not all of them.

    You want in? Wanna watch the downfall of a man who threw away all his smaller clothes about 6 months ago because “I will never need them again”? You got it.

    LETS. DO. THIS.