I can add another unpleasant side-effect to the list I suffered after starting weight loss injections: NADINE DORRIES

On Saturday, I wrote about my experience on one of the new Ozempic-like weight-loss jabs. It was accompanied by a photo showing the dramatic transformation in my figure after just four weeks.

Despite some unpleasant side-effects, I shared with Mail readers my delight at the results and how I felt I'd turned my life and health around.

I'm certainly no snowflake when it comes to abuse on social media but even I was taken back by the response.

'Stop taking drugs that should be used to treat people with diabetes,' admonished one post. 'Well done on your support for Big Pharma,' sneered another. Yet another: 'Why don't you lose weight in a good way, with diet and exercise.' (Like I hadn't tried that!) And these are just some of the milder comments.

It would appear that fat-shaming women has now been replaced by jab-shaming. You don't have to be a member of Mensa to work out that the majority of users of the new injections are women, so wheel out the ducking stool!

Since I started my weekly injections of Mounjaro — I'm now six weeks in and 14 lb down — and have been speaking about it openly, numerous women, young and old, have confided in me that they, too, are using the jabs.

The difference is that they are doing it in secret. They haven't told husbands, partners, friends or family, despite the fact that most, like me, had long-term health issues which impacted both their day-to-day wellbeing and longevity.

Some were embarrassed, some ashamed. One woman whispered: 'I feel as if I'm cheating, and no one likes a cheat.'

I've learned that being a diet bore and picking at a lettuce leaf is acceptable — but, whoa, it's definitely not done to admit that 'I jab my belly once a week and the weight is dropping off'.

What you are actually saying is: I'm receiving maximum benefit with minimal effort. And that just isn't on.

We are women. We are supposed to be martyrs. Inflicted with unpredictable hormones, we were born to suffer.

And God forbid that vanity should be our motivation — which generally seems to be the assumption.

I turned to the jabs after my GP flagged up several health concerns. I was two-stone overweight, pre-diabetic, with cholesterol levels refusing to fall to an acceptable level even on statins, and signs of non-alcohol-related fatty liver disease. Plus I'd already had a hip replacement.

Every woman I've spoken to has her own story to tell about their weight issues. Menopausal women who find shifting pounds so much harder than they did when younger. Women who juggle careers with running homes and raising children, who can't find the time for a haircut, let alone fit in a diet and exercise regime.

Women who are carers, giving almost all of their energy to someone else. One young woman told me that she had polycystic ovary syndrome, with accompanying insulin resistance, which made losing weight an even greater challenge for her.

And yet these women all felt that by turning to the jabs they were doing something wrong.

This cannot continue. One in four adults in England is obese. Overweight patients cost the NHS almost £7 billion a year. Extra poundage is a thief of lives and joy, linked to a long list of chronic and life-threatening disease, from diabetes, stroke and cancer to joint problems, poor sexual function, mental health issues... and on and on.

During the pandemic, we learned that obesity tripled your risk of being hospitalised and was linked to increased fatality from the virus.

As a former nurse, I understand the very real concern of doctors that Ozempic, Wegovy and Mounjaro are being used by individuals who aren't overweight but just want to lose a few pounds for cosmetic reasons — and see the jabs as a fast-track way to do it.

And, yes, unscrupulous online pharmacies and clinicians who are prescribing them to people who don't meet the clinical criteria should be clamped down on.

But let's not lose sight of those people whose health these jabs have the power to transform.

My advice to women thinking about using them is to seek medical advice first, do your research and be aware of the side-effects before you start — and, importantly, to be honest about having the jabs if that is what you decide to do.

That way, you will be an inspiration and an encouragement to other women.

We need to call out jab-shaming and nip it in the bud now, because many women's lives may depend on it — and so does our NHS.

Harsh to be axed for a sex 

I am the butt of jokes in my house when it comes to sport. I can't count the number of times I've been asked 'Aren't there dishes to be done?' whenever I've tried to join in a conversation about cricket or football. It always gets a laugh — not least from me.

But maybe I should cancel members of my family, just like Eurosport cancelled veteran sports commentator Bob Ballard after he made a quip about the Australian women's 4x100m freestyle relay team — who'd just won Olympic gold — taking their time to leave the Paris Aquatics Centre.

'You know what women are like... hanging around, doing their make-up,' he joked. Yes it was ill-judged. But kicking him out of the Games, with presumably career-damaging consequences, is far worse.

When the new series of Strictly — the 20th — kicks off next month, it's going to be down to us devoted fans to spiritually raise the show up to its glitterball heights again after the scandals of the past few months. I'm sure we won't let the new crop of celebrities and their professional partners down.

The Conservative leadership contest is under way. I'm saying nothing…yet.