Like so many women my age, I have a few inches round my waist which I’d rather I didn’t. But at 42, and with two young children, I take some comfort from knowing that, at a size 12 – I’m just over 10st and 5ft 4in tall – any excess weight is just a little extra padding rather than anything more concerning.
Indeed, I have a BMI of 24, which, according to NHS guidelines, puts me very much at a ‘healthy’ weight range.
So I certainly didn’t consider myself to be eligible for the revolutionary weight-loss drugs the whole world is talking about.
Designed for the seriously overweight and those with type 2 diabetes, these powerful drugs include Ozempic, Mounjaro and Wegovy.
Acting by curbing hunger, stimulating weight loss and stabilising blood-sugar levels, they’re intended for those with a BMI of more than 35, or 30 if you have another obesity-related condition such as high blood pressure.
It was with some amazement, then, that as I sat at home last week I received four separate deliveries of weight-loss jabs in the space of a couple of days. This, despite it being totally unsuitable for me to have been prescribed them.
Worryingly, the whole process of getting my hands on these jabs was incredibly simple – a few clicks (and a couple of white lies), and in some cases uploading a quick selfie, was all it took to get them delivered from seemingly eager private online pharmacies.
My first package contained a one-month supply of the weight-loss jab Wegovy – famously taken by tech billionaire Elon Musk, among others.
It was with some amazement that as I sat at home last week I received four separate deliveries of weight-loss jabs in the space of a couple of days, writes Kate Pickles
Costing £156.97 including postage, it arrived packed in wool swaddling with an icepack for temperature regulation. There was even a ‘Thank You’ card attached, which offers £10 off my next order if I spend £50 or more.
The Oxford Online Pharmacy has every reason to believe there will be a next order – and many more after that. For Wegovy is the ‘big sister’ of Ozempic.
The main component of both drugs is the ‘miracle’ ingredient semaglutide. Initially developed to treat diabetes, its ability to suppress appetite and thus shrink waistlines has earned it a diverse legion of fans including former prime minister Boris Johnson, who extolled the ‘magic potion’ in his first column for this newspaper.
Whereas Ozempic is designed to be used only by diabetics, Wegovy is composed of the same drug – semaglutide – but at a different, higher dose. It is specifically intended for weight loss.
The second consignment of slimming jabs to arrive at my home later that day was a shipment of the more potent drug tirzepatide, sold under the brand name Mounjaro and soon to be issued on the NHS to treat obesity.
Made by Eli Lilly, new trial data issued by the company last week shows those taking it typically lose 20 per cent of their body weight after 72 weeks, compared with 14 per cent on semaglutide.
Such is the anticipated demand, the NHS announced this week it will only be able to afford to give Mounjaro to one in ten of those who need it.
My first package contained a one-month supply of the weight-loss jab Wegovy – famously taken by tech billionaire Elon Musk, among others
And yet here I am receiving a month’s supply after applying for it online just two days earlier from the private Mayfair Weight Loss Clinic, and paying £168.90.
I also received two further packages containing Wegovy from two other registered online pharmacies – one from Simple Online Pharmacy costing £143, the other from Online Pharmacy 4U costing £204.90.
The process of obtaining them was simple: I used my own medical details, and tweaked my weight to raise my BMI to above 30 – a practice which is an open secret on online forums such as Reddit, where there is an entire thread titled ‘Getting Wegovy in the UK if under 30 BMI’.
Of course, these drugs certainly have their place in a doctor’s arsenal, and it’s claimed they will transform the health of obese people.
While there is no suggestion that the online pharmacies named in this piece have broken any laws or regulations, our investigation reveals the shocking ease with which these powerful medications – that have significant potential side-effects including heart palpitations, kidney problems, severe stomach pain and intense constipation – can be obtained by those who simply don’t have the medical need for them.
Such is the anticipated demand, the NHS announced this week it will only be able to afford to give Mounjaro to one in ten of those who need it
These potential dangers were recently brought into sharp focus with the news of the first UK death linked to slimming jabs.
Susan McGowan, a 58-year-old nurse from Airdrie in Scotland, died in September this year after taking just two low doses of Mounjaro.
After researching the drug and seeking medical advice, she purchased a prescription via a registered online pharmacy.
Her death certificate lists multiple organ failure, septic shock and pancreatitis as immediate causes of death, with the jab cited as a ‘contributing’ factor.
Doctors say she was desperately unlucky, suggesting pre-existing gallstones may have lead to pancreatitis. Extreme side-effects like these are, apparently, very rare.
But doctors also warn that these jabs are causing growing A&E admissions – often by young women who have used the drugs without medical need or supervision.
Indeed, as our investigation has uncovered, it’s all too easy to exploit the woefully inadequate safeguards around these drugs.
We twice ordered from ten online pharmacies, choosing authorised websites which appear in common search engines after using simple terms like ‘weight-loss jabs’, or names of the products.
Boots, Superdrug, Asda, and the pharmacies Numan, MedExpress and Dr Frank’s refused our orders. But each time we were successful with the same four online pharmacies: Mayfair Weight Loss Clinic, Oxford Online Pharmacy, Online Pharmacy 4U and Simple Online Pharmacy.
They all have an initial consultation, which some boast ‘takes less than five minutes’.
As I discovered, the consultation consists of a series of tick-box questions about my health, including if I have ever suffered any of a list of conditions such as pancreatitis – as developed by the late Susan McGowan – or if there is a family history of thyroid cancer (semaglutide is also known to increase the risk of thyroid tumours).
There are also questions over whether I have ever made myself sick or taken laxative medication to lose weight, a nod to the significant threat this poses to those with eating disorders.
I tick ‘no’ to all. But there’s no way of checking whether I’m telling the truth. Unlike a GP or NHS weight-loss service, these private pharmacies have no direct access to medical records.
All but one ask for GP contact details, presumably so they can attempt to conduct checks or at least inform my doctor of the prescription.
But the speed at which some prescriptions were approved – some within minutes and often within 24 hours – raises serious doubts over whether the GP was actually consulted.
The next stage is to ‘visually assess weight against BMI and other medical history’.
All but two pharmacies say they require photographic evidence – either a headshot, a ‘waist-up’ selfie or a full body shot, depending on the website, before the order is reviewed by one of their doctors.
Some now request dated, body-length photos and ID to verify weight claims and to prove a customer is who they say they are.
The photographs I uploaded, which were in no way amended, are enough to cause six of the ten pharmacies to conclude ‘it would not be appropriate’ for me to be treated remotely.
‘Unfortunately as a remote provider we were not able to verify you fit the criteria and required BMI to ensure safe prescribing and follow-up care and have therefore cancelled your order,’ is the response from Asda, for example.
But worryingly, pharmacy teams at two providers – Mayfair Weight Loss Clinic and Oxford Online Pharmacy –almost immediately conclude
I pass the checks without requesting photographic evidence, dispensing the medication within 24 hours.
Mayfair Weight Loss Clinic boasts it is a ‘highly reputable weight management clinic in London’ and its slick website features a glamorous, slim young woman measuring her abdomen with tape.
The team, it boasts, ‘have combined the latest clinical evidence and years of knowledge in weight management to design a bespoke online consultation process’ to provide patients with ‘appropriate and effective’ treatments.
But in reality, it was astonishingly easy to buy Mounjaro – potentially deadly if prescribed without proper medical supervision – from the clinic in a matter of minutes.
No ID or photos were needed. Prospective customers are required only to submit their height, weight and answer nine ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions on their medical history.
Even more concerningly, Mayfair allows patients to deny consent for the pharmacy to contact their GP.
Instead, you tick a box promising to speak to your doctor, but no proof of contact is required.
Mayfair was asked to comment, but there was no response at the time of writing.
The company’s website says orders are reviewed by GMC- registered Dr John Lekkas, adding that it’s registered with the General Pharmaceutical Council. It also insists ‘when prescribing any treatment, our healthcare professionals follow and adhere to the healthcare authorities’ guidelines’.
Meanwhile, Simple Online Pharmacy requests ‘additional confirmation’ of my weight in the form of a ‘full body selfie’ or a photograph of scales while I am standing on them ‘with the weight clearly on display’.
I opt for the latter. While the Mail is choosing not to reveal how we got around this request for proof, suffice to say the picture is easily manipulated to show my weight as 12st 5lb.
Again, my order sails through.
Not one of the online pharmacies we approach require a face-to-face, online or even phone consultation to talk through why I might want the appetite-suppressing medication, or to outline potential risks.
My colleague Miles Dilworth also tries the same ten pharmacies. His real height is 5ft 11in and he weighs in at 11st 4lb, making his BMI around 22 – way below the threshold. He enters an adjusted height of 5ft 9in and weight of 14st 8lb to give him a BMI of more than 30.
Simple Online Pharmacy asked for a photograph from the waist up and within minutes of the photo being submitted, his order was approved, suggesting any checks were cursory at best.
A company spokesman told the Mail: ‘We have checks and protocols in place for prescribing (including ID checks, real-time images and notifying a patient’s GP), all of which happened with these patients.
‘We are carrying out a full review into this particular case as we seek to enhance our ability to identify falsified patient information.’
Online Pharmacy 4U was another of the four pharmacies to send us jabs. Its website states it has a ‘permanent full- time dedicated on-site superintendent pharmacist, as well as extremely efficient highly qualified online prescribers giving you peace of mind’.
Yet our investigation would suggest verification checks in place were minimal, as our order met with no obstructions.
After we contacted the clinic, a company spokesman said the firm was ‘refining’ its procedures and had added ‘extra verification measures’, including ‘torso and full-body photographs to verify physical measurements more accurately’.
A company spokesman added: ‘We also conduct comprehensive checks on each patient’s medical background, including accessing Summary Care Records, to confirm eligibility and safety as part of our standard protocol.’
Although Oxford Online Pharmacy, which claims to be ‘one of the UK’s leading online pharmacies’, did ask for our GP contact details, the clinic did not ask for ID or photographs to verify our claim that we had BMIs of above 30.
Its owner Stuart Gale told the Mail his company has ‘robust checks and balances in place to minimise the chances of those who are not eligible for certain medication accessing them’, including ‘an ID check, NHS records check and screening by doctors and pharmacists’.
Mr Gale added that ‘in light of this recent development, we have updated our processes to further strengthen the existing robust checks and balances we have in place, which will now include recent photo ID checks and weight verification, as well as an NHS records check and screening by doctors and pharmacists’.
Oksana Pyzik, a lecturer at the UCL school of pharmacy, says there’s no doubt online clinics are ‘putting patient safety at risk’.
‘Regulatory bodies still have not caught up to the realities of how online health providers find loopholes to sell blockbuster weight-loss jabs,’ she says.
I certainly didn’t consider myself to be eligible for the revolutionary weight-loss drugs the whole world is talking about, writes Kate Pickles
‘It is deeply concerning how easy it is for patients to ‘fake’ criteria or manipulate photographs to access weight-loss jabs online.’
Mandatory ID checks, cross-referencing of medical records and live video consultations should be the bare minimum, she says.
A spokesperson for the General Pharmaceutical Council said: ‘We require all pharmacies, including those operating online, to ensure that the way in which pharmacy services are delivered safeguards the health, safety and wellbeing of patients and the public.
‘We expect pharmacies to follow this guidance, and we are issuing an updated version in the New Year which will set out additional safeguards around high-risk medicines, including medicines used for weight management.’
Health Secretary Wes Streeting has previously admitted he ‘lives in fear that one day someone will die because of misusing these drugs in the search to look good for social media’.
He admits much closer clinical oversight and regulation is needed but has yet to reveal plans on how the Government intends to achieve this.
Commenting on the Mail’s investigation, Mr Streeting said: ‘I am deeply concerned by these alarming findings. Retailers have a responsibility to make sure serious medicines like these are never sold without the proper checks taking place first.
‘We know weight-loss drugs can be a game-changer in the fight against obesity, but they should only be used responsibly and under medical supervision – not for the Instagram-perfect body.’
There’s no doubt ‘fat jabs’ will become a major part of the fight to tackle obesity-related issues in the years to come, but it’s vital they are dispensed with safety uppermost.
And the jabs I received? They went in the bin. With such drugs, the message should be, if you don’t really need them, don’t take them.