Deborah Rustad ad creative
Deborah Rustad
Deborah Rustad

InactiveΒ· since Aug 27, 2026

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My daughter Jessie and I are on the same GLP-1 medication. She has lost 43 pounds. I lost 2. And everyone had the same explanation for it... she's 46 and I'm 68. Well. It took me four months to find out they were all wrong. And when I finally did find out, it had NOTHING to do with the medication, my diet, my willpower... or my age. Let me back up and tell it properly, because I know some of you ladies are living this exact story right now. I'm 68 years old. Type 2 diabetic for eleven years now. My doctor put me on the injections last spring, mostly for my blood sugar, and we both hoped the weight would come along too. I had about 45 pounds to lose... and at my age that's not about fitting into anything. It's my knees. It's my blood pressure pills. It's whether I can keep my garden and keep this house and keep up with my granddaughters. I'll just say it. I felt like this was my last real chance to get it off. Maybe some of you know that feeling. And I want to be fair here!! The medication DID do things for me. My blood sugar numbers came down and my doctor was very pleased with my labs. But that scale did not move. Four months. TWO pounds. And I was eating like a bird, I kid you not. My Jessie started the same medication about six weeks after me. Her doctor is one of those functional medicine doctors... the kind that actually sits with you for an hour. She's lost 34 pounds and counting. We talk every Friday morning after we weigh in, and let me tell you, every Friday I had less and less to say. And everybody had their answer ready for why she was melting away and I wasn't. "She's 46, honey. You're 68. It's different for us." I believed it. Why wouldn't I? By my age you've had a LOT of practice believing that sentence. But here's the thing. The first few weeks, the shots worked on me. Sort of. And that's the part that made everything afterward so confusing. The food noise went quiet. You know the one... that constant little hum about what's in the pantry, what's for supper, whether there's still pie. GONE. For about three weeks I felt a peace around food I hadn't felt in 40 years of dieting. 40 years, ladies. Then my hubby had a health scare, and the noise came roaring back. Mid week. DAYS after my shot. There I am standing in front of the refrigerator at 9 o'clock at night like a woman half my age... on a medication that was supposed to make that impossible. I thought the drug had quit on me. It wasn't even shot day yet. It made no sense at all. And that became the pattern. Calm week... quiet head... the scale gives me half a pound. Hard week... the noise runs right over the medication and the scale freezes solid. Like stress had some kind of manual override on the whole thing. My doctor moved my dose up right on schedule. I compared with Jessie and we were right in step with where she'd been. I checked it twice. I may be 68 but I keep good records, ask anyone. So I posted my numbers in my Facebook group. And I got forty different answers, I'm sure you can imagine. "Are you weighing your food?" I was. With the little scale Jessie bought me. Every single bite in my notebook. "You're eating too much." I was eating less than I have in my entire adult life. And MAINTAINING. Think about that for a minute. "You're not eating enough, your body is in starvation mode." Well which is it?? "Have you tried apple cider vinegar?" Somebody's niece was selling something with a discount code. Three ladies sent prayer hands. God love them. πŸ™ And then the comment I still think about when I'm trying to fall asleep. "Either something is medically wrong or you're not being honest about what you're eating." 68 years old and a stranger on the internet called me a liar. I closed the laptop and sat at my kitchen table until my coffee went cold. At my next appointment I asked my doctor straight out why it wasn't working. And I'll tell you exactly what she said because I've been chewing on it ever since. She said "honestly, you're the first patient I've had that it hasn't worked for." She ran my labs. Thyroid, kidneys, the whole panel. All fine. Better than fine, considering. And then came the sentence every woman my age knows by heart... "At your age, some things are slower. Let's keep monitoring it." Monitoring. There it is. Because when you're 68, nobody gets stumped anymore. Nothing gets investigated. You get MANAGED. Every ache and every mystery gets filed under the same explanation, and the explanation is the year you were born. "Slow responder," she called me. At my age I heard something else. Too late, dear. This works for everybody, but you got here forty years past the deadline. Do you know how that lands at 68? I'll tell you. I don't have four months to hand over for nothing. That's just the honest arithmetic at my age. Jessie can waste a season and shrug it off. I count my time differently now. Four months of eating like a sparrow and injecting a medication that WORKS, filling out my little notebook every day... for two pounds. And meanwhile... here's the part nobody could explain to me. My sleep got WORSE on the shots. Not better. Worse. Now I've been waking at 3am for years, and I chalked that up to age like everything else. But on the shots it became something new. Shot night especially. I'd lie there wired, heart tapping away like I'd had coffee with supper, wide awake over absolutely nothing. Jessie set me up with her old Apple Watch and it kept flagging the same things... elevated heart rate, terrible sleep score. My own body ringing an alarm bell while every blood test said I was fine. The shots were making me more tired in the daytime too, which nobody warned me about either. Wired all night, worn out all day. And at my age everyone just nods and says well... you're 68. And my Facebook group had turned into a highlight reel I couldn't stop looking at. Here's what made it worse than you'd think. It wasn't the young ones. My group is FULL of women my age and older. Down 42 pounds at 70. Down 65 at 71 with her diabetes in remission, praise God. A 67-year-old posting her before and after in the same blouse. And I was genuinely happy for every single one of them... and every single post quietly took away my last excuse. Because if age was the reason, somebody forgot to tell these women. So what was the reason? What on earth was wrong with ME? One night at 1am I gave up on sleeping and looked up "ozempic non responder." Well. Turns out they exist. In every clinical trial there's a group that takes the drug and barely loses anything. I read that with my heart going and thought... there I am. The one it skips. Of course it's me I even wrote out the message to my doctor asking if we should just stop the injections and settle for the blood sugar help. No point throwing good months after bad. It sat in my phone. I never sent it. Then Jessie came for Sunday dinner. And I asked her the question that changed everything. We were at my kitchen table after the dishes were done, just the two of us. She was wearing jeans I remembered from before her second baby, if that tells you anything. "I need the truth, sweetheart. What are you doing that I'm not doing?" She put down her coffee. "You're going to be mad, Mom." "Why on earth would I be mad?" "Because it's something my doctor made me start before my very first shot. It costs about thirty dollars. And I just assumed your doctor had you on it too, because mine acted like it was standard." Before Jessie's first injection, her doctor told her something that Jessie wrote down in her phone, word for word. She slid the phone across my kitchen table. "Every woman I put on these medications starts magnesium first. Because the shot is about to create the exact deficiency that stops it from working." I read it twice. Then I looked up at her and said exactly what you're thinking right now. "Jessie. I already TAKE magnesium. Every day. For years!" And it's true!! There is a great big bottle of it in my cabinet right between the fish oil and the calcium. Half the women my age take it. Our doctors suggest it for... let's say keeping regular, which these shots turn into a real project, the ladies on them know exactly what I mean. I never missed a day. "What kind?" she said. The drugstore kind. The kind every woman my age has. "That's the problem, Mom. Wrong form. Let her explain it the way she explained it to me, because it changed how I think about this whole thing." So here it is, the way my daughter gave it to me. Your stress response works like a thermostat. It turns up under pressure and turns back down after. Magnesium is the fuel that lets it turn back down. When you're depleted, the thermostat sticks on high... and your body reads that as an emergency. And an emergency means storage mode. Hold onto everything. Release nothing. The shot quiets your appetite. It does NOTHING about storage mode. So you can take your foot off the gas all you want. Stress is still standing on the brake. Now here's the trap, and nobody had ever once walked me through it. Almost all of your magnesium comes from food, and the tank drains over a lifetime. Stress burns it. Broken sleep burns it. Medications drain it... and at my age most of us take a handful every morning, am I right? Even the soil our food grows in has less in it than it used to. By 68, that tank has been draining longer than anybody's. Then the shot arrives and does its job perfectly. Suddenly you're eating half of what you used to. But here's the part that really got me. I was never a big eater to begin with! Women my age already eat less than everybody else on this medication. So the shot didn't cut a full tank in half. It cut a LOW tank in half. Half the food means half the magnesium. And the longer you're on the shot, the deeper the hole gets. "That's why your sleep got worse on the shots, not better," Jessie said. "That's why a hard week runs right over the appetite suppression. Her words, not mine, Mom. She sees it constantly, and she says she sees it most in her oldest patients. The ones everybody writes off as too old for it to work. They are not too old. The thermostat is out of fuel, and the drug is draining the tank." I pushed back. Of course I did, I've been around too long not to. "My labs were normal. She checked everything. She's a good doctor." "She IS a good doctor. But a standard test measures the magnesium in your blood. Almost all of it lives inside your cells, and no routine panel looks in there. You can be running on empty at the cellular level and pass every single test. Nobody checked mine either. Nobody checks anybody's." Everything they tested was fine. The one thing that wouldn't have been fine... nobody tested. And at my age nobody was going to go looking, were they. Monitoring, remember. I said the rest of what I was thinking too. "Sweetheart, this sounds like the things they sell to old women. Miracle this and miracle that. Your grandmother had a whole drawer full of it. If a thirty dollar bag fixed anything, my doctor would have told me." "I said nearly the same thing to mine," Jessie said. "And she told me... I'm not selling you a miracle. Your medication changed how much you eat. When you eat that little, you either replace what's missing or your body fights the drug. That's not a sales pitch. That's arithmetic." Then she took a little light blue bag out of her purse. SPNutrition. Magnesium bisglycinate gummies. "This is bisglycinate. It's the form that crosses the blood brain barrier, which is why absorption is up to 90%. That bottle in your cabinet never made it to where it matters." And she said the gummy part is not a gimmick either. Because you chew it, it breaks down like food, unlike a pill... so your body treats it like food. These shots slow your stomach way down, so that matters more than it sounds. And Lord knows I know about the slow stomach. Two gummies before bed. That was the whole protocol. THAT was the thing I was going to be mad about. Four months of a working medication. A cabinet with the wrong magnesium sitting in it the entire time. And the difference between my body and my daughter's was a thirty dollar bag that her doctor treats as standard care. Now I did not order it that night, and I'll be honest with you about that too. I'm 68 years old and I have watched miracle products come and go since before the internet was a twinkle in anybody's eye. I sat with my tea and thought about it for two days. Then I did what I always do. I read. The studies on magnesium and the stress response. The nutrient gaps in people who eat very little. The clinical trial numbers on the group that stalls. It all held up. And there was a 60 day money back guarantee, which at my age I appreciate, because I have returned things before and I will certainly do it again. Two pounds in four months was my risk, ladies. Thirty-five dollars was not. Day one... nothing. I'll be honest about that as well. End of week one, I was falling asleep faster. That long stretch of staring at the ceiling shrank down to about ten minutes. Week two is when it happened. I slept through the night. ALL the way through. No 3am. I honestly could not tell you the last time before that. Even on shot night! Jessie's old watch noticed before I did. And that Friday... for the first Friday in four months... my number moved. Two pounds down. In ONE week. And here's the part I need to be very precise about, because at my age people love to credit anything but you. Nothing about my medication changed. Same drug, same dose, same shot on Sunday night. My diabetes care didn't change one bit. And my age certainly didn't change! The medication didn't suddenly start working. It had been working the WHOLE time. My body finally had the fuel to stop fighting it. Weeks three and four, steady as she goes. A pound, sometimes two, most weeks. Just the way it had been for Jessie from her first month. Another hard stretch came along with my hubby's appointments, and for the first time the food noise stayed quiet right through it. That's when I truly believed it. Week six... I got down on the floor with my granddaughter to do her puzzle, and I got back up without grabbing the coffee table. I stood in my kitchen afterward and had myself a little cry about it, if you want the whole truth. ❀️ The daytime tiredness eased up too. Sleeping through the night will do that at any age. Am I still behind Jessie? Oh yes. She had the answer handed to her before her first shot and I spent four months running on empty. But I've stopped keeping score. My Friday number moves now. That's the only race I'm in. For four months I thought I was the one the miracle skips. And underneath that, I thought exactly what they'd trained me to think... that I was simply too old, the door had closed, and monitoring was all that was left for me. Well. I was NOT a non responder. And I was NOT too old. I had a magnesium deficiency that had been building longer than anybody's, and it got a little worse every single week I stayed on the shots... because eating half the food means getting half the magnesium. And not one person in a white coat thought to look for it. At my age, they'd stopped looking altogether. I still take my injection every Sunday night. Same drug, same dose. My blood sugar care belongs to my doctor and that is staying that way. I still have stress... I still have my hubby's appointments and a garden that will not weed itself. I'm still 68, and glad to be here at all, believe me. And every night before bed, I take my two gummies. Thirty seconds to chew. No sugar either which I like. My magnesium refills, my body comes down off high alert, and the medication I was already taking finally gets to do its whole job. Honestly? That should be standard care for every woman starting these injections. Most of all for women my age, who start with the emptiest tank and the least time to waste. Jessie's doctor treats it that way. Nobody ever said one word about it to me. If you're on one of these medications and your labs look better but that scale will not move... if everyone around you, including women OLDER than you, is getting the results you were promised... if the food noise comes roaring back every hard week... if you already take magnesium, the drugstore kind, every single day, and it has done nothing... if your sleep got worse on the shots and you're lying there wide awake at 3am wondering if you're just too old for the one thing that was finally supposed to work... I'm not saying you definitely have a magnesium deficiency. I'm not a doctor and I don't play one on Facebook. But I spent four months I did not care to lose asking a medication to do a job my body didn't have the fuel to finish. SPNutrition is a small company. They make their gummies in limited batches... pure magnesium bisglycinate, the form that crosses the blood brain barrier, which is why absorption is up to 90%. That kind of quality takes time, which is why when they sell out, the restocks take weeks. Right now they're running a sale. I checked the site this morning and ordered a second bag for my neighbor Fran, who starts her injections right after Labor Day. She's 71. I told her she is not starting a single day without it. I don't panic easily at my age. But I didn't dawdle either, because every time they run one of these sales they sell out fast. They have the 60 day money back guarantee too. Two full months!! That's longer than it took me to feel the difference. If nothing changes, you get every penny back, no questions asked. But if it works? If by the end of week one you're falling asleep without all the ceiling staring... if by week two the 3am wake ups stop and your Friday number finally moves after months of nothing... You'll wish you had started it the same day as your very first shot. I know I do. At my age I don't give months away for free. Anyway, I'm linking an article below that explains the magnesium connection better than I can. Take two minutes and read it, ladies. ❀️ πŸ‘‡ https://spnutrition-us.com/pages/advertorial-magnesium

Found out why GLP-1 shots weren’t working

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