A Year Since Alli

It was one year ago today when I first tried Alli, that over-the-counter pill that magically zaps the fat in your diet and doesn’t let it get absorbed by your body. Let me warn you this story gets a little graphic on the bodily functions front, so skip this post if you’re a wimp about that sort of thing.

Last year I decided to give Alli a try. Afterall, even if their literature stressed it was no wonder drug, how could anyone resist the promise of a low fat diet while still eating all the fat you can swallow. Plus, at that time I simply wasn’t ready to make a “real” commitment to health, so popping a pill sounded like an appealing alternative.

I had been taking the pill with meals for a week. As warned, my bowel movements were oilier than usual…the fat has to go somewhere, right. But overall, the side effects were quite mild compared to the label’s warning. That was until Chinese buffet — Alli’s archenemy.

We had just set up Liam’s booth for the art show in Elkhart Lake and had to drive into Sheboygan for some supplies. While we were there, we opted to feed at one of our favorite Chinese buffets.

I was pretty confident a healthy serving of General’s Chicken and some eggrolls would be no match for Alli. I was right…for about 24 hours. That’s when I could feel my stomach starting to churn as if some intergalactic parasite had hatched in my body ala the movie Alien.

It was almost as if I could follow the food travel through my intestines by simply following the gurgling noises.

About an hour after going to bed that evening in the RV, I urgently woke up as every ounce of grease from the buffet was ready to evacuate from my body…immediately!

I could tell this was going to be a bigger job than our motorhome toilet was up for. Plus, it’s hard to do that kind of “business” with Liam trying to sleep on the other side of the thin bathroom door.

I began my quick-stepped walk to the nearby resort to use their industrial toilets. My gut was twisting and groaning. I waddled onward.

Just as I approached the resort, I had my first thought that maybe I wouldn’t make it to the toilet. I looked to the bushes and considered taking a “natural” detour.

I convinced myself that with the right amount of focus, I could arrive at the throne in time. I sqeezed my cheeks together as I hurried passed the front desk…then up some stairs…then down a hall to the bathroom.

I pushed right into a stall, and just as I began dropping my pants, the wretched liquid began to expel from my body. The first squirt didn’t entirely make the intended target, the bowl, but my underwear and shorts only had one oily spot to the back (there’s a warning for that on the Alli label).

I stayed in that position for about 20 minutes as an almost endless supply of the most offensive-smelling debris sprayed from my body.

It was terribly disgusting, and the cramping and monstrous sounds coming from my gut had me convinced that I might end up disemboweled…I was already imagining my emergency crawl to the front desk with my pants around my ankles and my intestines following behind.

Two hours passed…with waves of “I’m doing fine” to “dear lord take me now” interchanging at will. Finally, the liqud squirts ceased, my belly stopped moaning, and I had used about a roll of toilet paper trying to absorb all the oils coming from my backside.

Once the moment passed, my body was back to normal and the side effects were quite limited. But boy oh boy, I learned that Alli is meant for “healthier” diets as directed. After that sample bottle was gone, my Alli use ended. And although I never had another experience like that night in Elkhart Lake, I never quite trusted my body and weight control drugs.

I also wonder if there are many other men who have tried Alli…and are willing to admit it. Heck, talk about bodily functions seems to be a popular guy thing, right?