Weight-Loss Jabs: A Lifeline or a Worry for Disabled People Like Me?

By Scarlett Red

Right, let’s talk about the jab that everyone and their dog walker seems to be whispering about - Ozempic. Once hailed as the holy grail for people with type 2 diabetes, it's now making headlines as a celebrity weight-loss secret. But here’s the thing: for many disabled people like me, who can’t just "go for a run" or "take up spin classes" (seriously, if I had a pound for every time someone suggested yoga) - could this jab actually be a game-changer?

I live with multiple sclerosis and Behçet’s syndrome, and mobility can be a daily challenge. Sometimes just getting out of bed feels like I’ve done a marathon – without the finish line snacks. So, when something like Ozempic or similar comes along that promises weight loss without hours in the gym, I’m intrigued. Could it give people like me more energy? Help reduce pressure on our joints? Lower the risk of secondary conditions that often come hand-in-hand with obesity and disability?

But – and here comes the big but (not mine, hopefully, if this jab works) – it’s not all plain sailing.

For starters, Ozempic and similar drugs like Wegovy aren’t currently licensed for weight loss alone on the NHS unless you’re in a very specific BMI bracket and have weight-related health issues. And supply issues have meant many diabetics who *actually need* the drug have struggled to get it, while influencers post TikToks about dropping two dress sizes in a month.

Plus, side effects aren’t just “a bit of nausea.” We’re talking fatigue, dizziness, gastrointestinal fun – things that, for someone with a chronic illness, can make life even harder. If you're already juggling pain, fatigue, meds and mobility aids, adding another potential burden could tip the balance. The risks might not be worth it, especially if your body’s already doing overtime dealing with other conditions.

It’s also worth noting that not all disabilities are the same. For some, weight loss can ease pressure on joints and boost confidence. For others, it could lead to nutritional deficiencies or unwanted muscle loss, which can seriously affect function. This isn’t a one-size-fits-all jab, and it shouldn’t be treated as such.

So what’s the solution? More research. Better guidance. And, above all, real conversations with the disabled community – not just assumptions about what our bodies “should” look like. If these drugs are to be offered more widely, disabled people must be part of the decision-making process, not just a footnote in clinical trial data.

Let’s be honest – if I could shed a bit of weight without needing a full NASA-level operation to leave the house, I’d absolutely consider it. But only if it’s safe, properly regulated, and done with disabled people in mind.

We’re not just passengers in this conversation. We’re the ones who have to live with the consequences.