Living with Fatty Liver Disease and My Fight for a Future with My Family

My name is Adam, and I’m 43 years old. If you had asked me a few years ago about my health, I would have shrugged it off. Like many people, I thought I was invincible. But here I am, living with fatty liver disease, and it has shaken me to the core. It’s a battle I never thought I’d have to fight, but it’s one I face every single day, not just for myself, but for my wife, my kids, and the future I want to share with them.

I was diagnosed with non-alcoholic fatty liver disease (NAFLD) at the age of 38, and to say it was a wake-up call would be an understatement. My weight had spiraled out of control over the years, hitting 345 pounds. I’d always been a big guy, but I didn’t realize the damage I was doing to my body. Looking back, the signs were there—constant fatigue, feeling sluggish, and just not feeling “right.” But I ignored them, always thinking I could get around to fixing it later.

"The diagnosis hit me like a freight train—I wasn’t ready to hear that my liver was failing."

When the doctor told me I had cirrhosis, I felt like the ground was pulled out from under me. Cirrhosis? I wasn’t an alcoholic, so how could this be happening to me? I soon learned that my cirrhosis was the result of NAFLD, which can silently progress to cirrhosis over time. NAFLD is becoming one of the leading causes of liver damage, and it can affect anyone—regardless of their drinking habits. It was like I’d been living with a silent killer, one that had been slowly chipping away at my health while I carried on, blissfully unaware.

The worst part wasn’t the diagnosis itself—it was what came next. The doctors told me I might need a liver transplant. At first, I didn’t fully grasp what that meant, but the more I learned, the more the fear set in. There’s a massive shortage of livers, and the waiting list for a transplant is long. I was told that unless my condition got worse, I wouldn’t even be eligible to join the transplant list. The reality was brutal: my only hope was to wait and see if I’d get sicker.

"How do you prepare yourself for a future where you might not be around for your children?"

I have two kids, ages 14 and 11, and the thought of leaving them without a father breaks me. I can’t bear the idea of them going through life without me by their side, cheering them on at their soccer games, walking them down the aisle one day, or spoiling my grandkids the way I always imagined I would. It’s that fear—of leaving them too soon—that drives me to keep fighting.

When I first got the diagnosis, I’ll admit, I wallowed in self-pity. I couldn’t believe I had let my health get this bad. But then something clicked. I realized that if I didn’t do something now, I might not get the chance to turn things around. So I made a promise to myself and my family that I would change.

"I decided that my story wasn’t going to end with this disease—it was just going to be part of the journey."

I started with my diet, cutting out junk food and switching to a high-protein, low-carb lifestyle. It wasn’t easy. There were days when I wanted to give up, when the cravings hit hard, but every time I looked at my kids, I remembered why I was doing this. Slowly, I started to see results. The weight started to come off. I added walking and light exercise into my daily routine, and before long, I was feeling stronger, more energetic. Over the course of a year, I lost 110 pounds.

But as great as the weight loss was, the reality is that my liver still has cirrhosis. Losing weight has helped slow the progression of the disease, but it hasn’t cured it. I still go to the hospital regularly for checkups, and the doctors continue to monitor my liver function. I’ve had complications—some days are harder than others—but I’m still fighting. I’m now on the transplant list, though the wait feels like a lifetime.

"I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I’ll keep fighting for as long as I can."

Fatty liver disease is something many people don’t take seriously until it’s too late. I’m sharing my story because I want people to understand just how dangerous it can be, and how important it is to take care of your health before you reach the point of no return. I waited too long, but that doesn’t mean it’s too late for others. If you’re reading this and think it couldn’t happen to you—trust me, it can.

I’m hopeful that one day I’ll get the liver transplant I need, but until then, I’m focused on being here for my family, living a healthier life, and doing everything I can to manage this disease. My fight isn’t over, and I’m not ready to give up.